The Travel Inn in Edmond, Oklahoma was a mandatory stop for my grandfather on most trips to town. He might not have to stay long but he had to say hello to many old friends. Grandpa described to me one time when he was leaving his favorite stop and heading home. He had stayed a while and had enjoyed a few or maybe several beers.
He said that he was driving along and somebody came up behind him and then pulled around and passed him like he was just sitting there. He said that he gave it some gas and in turn passed the offender and stayed ahead of him.
My grandfather explained, “I had to pass him. I was already speeding when he passed me.”
I don’t know that I can explain his logic but perhaps I can better understand why some of my cousins enjoyed racing so much. Some of it must have been hereditary.