Yea ♡

This is 40. Little kid me would’ve laughed if you said 2025 was real… or that I’d actually get here. I used to try picturing 40-year-old Frankie...what I’d look like, what I’d be doing...and it felt like science fiction. If you’d told 13-year-old me on the Malcolm set that I’d walk away from Hollywood, race trucks full-time in NASCAR, own a freaking olive oil store, become a husband, a dad, and somehow still get recognized as “that kid from the show” two decades later… I would’ve called you crazy. Most days I’m still waiting for someone to tell me this is all a prank. But here’s the thing: the wild childhood is in the rear-view, the chaotic twenties are a blur, my thirties were where I finally figured out who I am when the cameras aren’t rolling… and now 40? 40 feels like the starting grid. I’ve got the best little family, the fastest chapter of my racing career ahead, and a hunger I haven’t felt since I was that kid begging for one more take. This isn’t the finish line. This is engines on, green flag dropping. Let’s go. Thank you all for being part of this absolutely unbelievable ride.