This Man Has Eaten Entirely Too Much Candy

I had planned to use this space to say something clever, but last night, I ate my weight in Sour Patch Kids and pulled an all-nighter watching rally videos on YouTube. Tired? Yes. But I'm also Jalopnik's newest contributing writer.

My name is Sam Smith. How did I get here? Why is my brain so fried? What the hell was I doing with a garbage bag full of candy in my house yesterday, and how did I manage to go through all of it in one sitting? What does a titanic sugar crash feel like on no sleep whatsoever? More important, which YouTube videos did I watch, and were they any good?

This Man Has Eaten Entirely Too Much Candy

Some answers:

1. Me: I'm a writer. Always have been, always will be, always wanted to be. By way of illustration, I have four memories of my life before the age of six. Two of them involve weird old British cars, one has me sticking a piece of chocolate-chip cookie up my nose in the back seat of a BMW 2002, and one centers around being told to "put that lousy book away and pay attention" during first-grade math. (Predictably, I cannot balance my checkbook but possess an extensive library of vintage car books.) Five years later, I discovered Peter Egan, Gay Talese, and Ayrton Senna, and my life changed forever.

2. Candy Overdose and Sleep Dep: It feels like the music of Warren Zevon, were the music of Warren Zevon wrapped around a gold brick, attached to the front of a speeding fire truck, and hosed down with the juice of a hundred lemons. Then the sugar wears off and you want to die. (The sensations are similar, but your teeth ache and the whole world smells like Lemon Pledge.) Oddly enough, a good long week of margaritas seems to accomplish the same thing.

3. The videos: Yes, the videos rocked. (Try searching for "Ari Vatanen Climb Dance," but don't do it if you've got someplace to be.)

This Man Has Eaten Entirely Too Much Candy

My road here was a long and twisted one. I've done time as an Alfa Romeo mechanic, helped edit a major car magazine in southeast Michigan (Sam's talking about Automobile Magazine. — Ed.), and held an amateur racing license for most of the past decade. I live in San Francisco but grew up in the Midwest, which means that I miss driving in the snow and occasionally freak out when I can't find good barbecue. I have an unhealthy attachment to rally racing, weird old motorcycles, German film cameras, and the BMW E30 M3. I learned to drive in a car with a crash gearbox, and I love the smell of bourbon. I have a tendency to pay for things in nickels, but I hate change.

I'm happy to be here. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go take a nap.

Photo Credit: Andrew Yeadon/Automobile Magazine