It’s an odd word: Old School.It has both good and bad connotations. However, my definition give the words the honor they deserve.To some, old school can sound very ridged, aging, tiresome, and even conservative.But to me, the words old school float across the air like race gas fumes escaping from the tank. The words linger in the air— honor and keeping one’s word. The words rev a sense of loyalty and righteousness.Old school ushered us into Moto Station in Murray, Utah.It was a bit nerve-racking to drop off the boy to a new sitter. The Suzuki would be in good hands. It would be subjected to the DYNO, fitted for parts, a tortuous tire change, and transported to the race track all within 24 hours. I teared up as I waved good-bye to our boy.We called Kory Cowan to check on the boy’s progress. He was gracious and patient with us.The next day, Suzuki boy arrived at the race track, delivered to us safely from the sitter’s loving, rugged hands. The boy was ready to race and looked quite happy.Yes, Moto Station “bike sitting” gets five old school stars from me—very honorable in keeping our boy in tune.