I'm sure you know by now that I love sports. A lot.
I particularly love this time of year. Baseball, football, NASCAR are all going, and hockey is just around the corner. And for the past week, the tennis US Open has been going. It's so exciting!
But that's where the curse comes in. I can only watch so much at a time! On any given weekend, there are usually two NASCAR races (usually one on Saturday afternoon and one Sunday afternoon), and now there are college football games on Saturday and pro games on Sunday. This weekend, there was all tennis 'round the clock, more so than usual because of all the rain delays (thank you, NY weather).
This time of year is also so full of optimism. Raider Nation likes to tell ourselves that every year is going to be The Year because the year before was a rebuilding year. (We've currently been rebuilding for so long now, we should have a freaking mansion.) Everyone is undefeated, and even if you drop the first game, well, hey - it's just the FIRST game. There are still fifteen to go!
And this is the weekend NASCAR set the Chase field, which means we know which drivers have a chance to win the championship. Again with the optimism. I love it! Of course, that came with a flipside, too. With the good, I had to take the bad - a driver I hate won this weekend, and two guys I hate got into the Chase. Boo.
And speaking of weird sports goings-on - well, I don't want to tempt the universe by naming things specifically, but some odd things were happening this week. It made me wonder if I had landed in a parallel universe! That whole blessing/curse thing CAN go too far, you know!
Showing posts with label nascar. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nascar. Show all posts
11 September 2011
29 May 2011
A Day of Racing (the non-spoiler edition)
As per usual, my day today was spent watching a LOT of racing. Since I didn't get to sleep until about 3:00 a.m., I didn't get up in time to watch the F-1 race in Monaco. But I heard the results, and now I'm kind of glad because it would have ticked me off.
Then, on to Indianapolis for the Indy 500. There was only one goal here - DO NOT LET DANICA WIN. Fortunately, I had many allies in this goal. I was sure that as long as we worked together, we could achieve this goal. We almost won before the race even started -- on Bump Day. Danica's car had problems in technical inspection and missed her spot in qualifying. Then the skies opened up, and they thought she wouldn't be able to qualify. Unfortunately, it stopped raining, they were able to get the track dried off, and she qualified for the race. So now it was time to make sure that she didn't win. Preferrably, she didn't even do well.
One of the things that pisses me off about IRL racing is that the cars can be forty seconds behind the leader and still be in something like tenth place AND on the lead lap. In NASCAR, if you're forty seconds back, you're at least one lap back (if not two), and you are most definitely NOT in tenth place. (You're probably something like 20-something place.)
Another things that I've grown to dislike about IRL is that when Dario Franchitti is interviewed, if his wife (Ashley Judd) is around, they will actually frame the shot to centre it around her. Yesterday, they were doing the post-race interview of Dario. Ashley was standing in the background talking to some people, and the camera MOVED so that Ashley was in the centre of the shot and Dario was now on the right third of the shot. And then Ashley started posing. Stabbity stabbity stabbity.
As soon as that race ended, it was on to Charlotte for two hours of pre-race coverage before the NASCAR race started. Then the race itself, which took about 5.5 hours. As the race drew to an end, I figured I wasn't going to be happy with who won because of the guys in the top ten positions, there were about two or three that I liked - not great odds! So then it became a game of "who do I dislike the least."
The best part is some of my friends and my Mom play a game where we pick a driver we think will do well in the race. I picked a totally illogical pick because I "had a feeling." And he ended up having a really decent night! In fact, he finished better than all the other picks, which were completely logical and made much more sense!
After all that helping people drive, I am exhausted! Off to bed I go!
Then, on to Indianapolis for the Indy 500. There was only one goal here - DO NOT LET DANICA WIN. Fortunately, I had many allies in this goal. I was sure that as long as we worked together, we could achieve this goal. We almost won before the race even started -- on Bump Day. Danica's car had problems in technical inspection and missed her spot in qualifying. Then the skies opened up, and they thought she wouldn't be able to qualify. Unfortunately, it stopped raining, they were able to get the track dried off, and she qualified for the race. So now it was time to make sure that she didn't win. Preferrably, she didn't even do well.
One of the things that pisses me off about IRL racing is that the cars can be forty seconds behind the leader and still be in something like tenth place AND on the lead lap. In NASCAR, if you're forty seconds back, you're at least one lap back (if not two), and you are most definitely NOT in tenth place. (You're probably something like 20-something place.)
Another things that I've grown to dislike about IRL is that when Dario Franchitti is interviewed, if his wife (Ashley Judd) is around, they will actually frame the shot to centre it around her. Yesterday, they were doing the post-race interview of Dario. Ashley was standing in the background talking to some people, and the camera MOVED so that Ashley was in the centre of the shot and Dario was now on the right third of the shot. And then Ashley started posing. Stabbity stabbity stabbity.
As soon as that race ended, it was on to Charlotte for two hours of pre-race coverage before the NASCAR race started. Then the race itself, which took about 5.5 hours. As the race drew to an end, I figured I wasn't going to be happy with who won because of the guys in the top ten positions, there were about two or three that I liked - not great odds! So then it became a game of "who do I dislike the least."
The best part is some of my friends and my Mom play a game where we pick a driver we think will do well in the race. I picked a totally illogical pick because I "had a feeling." And he ended up having a really decent night! In fact, he finished better than all the other picks, which were completely logical and made much more sense!
After all that helping people drive, I am exhausted! Off to bed I go!
06 April 2011
Ignore this post
This post won't make sense to anyone except one other person.
But in an attempt to kill.. uh... well, several birds with one stone:
JOEY, WILL YOU MARRY ME?
But in an attempt to kill.. uh... well, several birds with one stone:
JOEY, WILL YOU MARRY ME?
19 February 2011
Mrs. Tennison and The "Just About" Debate, Part II
So, once again, I get slaughtered in the "Just About" debate. Sigh.
It's okay. Y'all are entitled to your wrong opinions. :P
Today has been a mixed day. NASCAR is back in full swing, but today's race meant Danica time, and I wasn't that thrilled with most of the Top Five finishers, with the lone exception being the guy who is now the Nationwide points leader.
Mom started working a doll fair today. It's a three-day fair where everyone who has a table is selling something to do with dolls. As most of you know, she makes American Girl doll clothes and accessories (the accessories are mostly doll bed sheets since AG sells doll bed, but no sheets. Poor dolls!). She called me from the fair, which was odd, so I ran to the phone. (If you've ever been with me when Mom calls, you know she has a rather special ringtone.) She asked if I remembered when I was in school. Now, think about this for a second. Is this anything that most people in their mid-30s who haven't suffered brain damage have forgotten?
Me: Uh, yes.
Mom: Do you remember being in [the gifted programme I was in.]
Me: Yes, Mother.
Mom: Do you remember Mrs. Tennison?
Me: Uh-huh.
Mom: Well, she's here.
Me: Mrs. Tennison is there? Oh, wow! I remember her! She was mean!
Mom: She was???
Me: Yeah. Well, not mean, just, you know... not the warm fuzzy type.
Mom: Do you want to talk to her?
Me: Let me make sure I have the right person. Is she kind of short and overweight? And black hair? And glasses? And a big nose? with a mole?
Mom: I don't see a mole. But maybe it got cancerous and she had it removed.
Anyway, I got to talk to Mrs. Tennison for about ten minutes, and it was really lovely. I didn't ask her about her mole, though. That seemed rude. She told me when I came back to town, I should look her up in the phone book and come visit her. I just might. I really enjoyed her class, and [the gifted programme] was always a respite from the rest of the school.
We were bussed to [the gifted programme] every Wednesday (each school in the district went on different days). It was a special programme where we didn't do regular classes. We got to do Logic (instead of Maths) and play with these things called computers (this WAS the mid-80s, remember) and had Creative Writing (instead of English) and every one else was either a nerd or a geek, too. Going back to my regular school on Thursday was SUCH a letdown.
I really may look up Mrs. Tennison come December.
It's okay. Y'all are entitled to your wrong opinions. :P
Today has been a mixed day. NASCAR is back in full swing, but today's race meant Danica time, and I wasn't that thrilled with most of the Top Five finishers, with the lone exception being the guy who is now the Nationwide points leader.
Mom started working a doll fair today. It's a three-day fair where everyone who has a table is selling something to do with dolls. As most of you know, she makes American Girl doll clothes and accessories (the accessories are mostly doll bed sheets since AG sells doll bed, but no sheets. Poor dolls!). She called me from the fair, which was odd, so I ran to the phone. (If you've ever been with me when Mom calls, you know she has a rather special ringtone.) She asked if I remembered when I was in school. Now, think about this for a second. Is this anything that most people in their mid-30s who haven't suffered brain damage have forgotten?
Me: Uh, yes.
Mom: Do you remember being in [the gifted programme I was in.]
Me: Yes, Mother.
Mom: Do you remember Mrs. Tennison?
Me: Uh-huh.
Mom: Well, she's here.
Me: Mrs. Tennison is there? Oh, wow! I remember her! She was mean!
Mom: She was???
Me: Yeah. Well, not mean, just, you know... not the warm fuzzy type.
Mom: Do you want to talk to her?
Me: Let me make sure I have the right person. Is she kind of short and overweight? And black hair? And glasses? And a big nose? with a mole?
Mom: I don't see a mole. But maybe it got cancerous and she had it removed.
Anyway, I got to talk to Mrs. Tennison for about ten minutes, and it was really lovely. I didn't ask her about her mole, though. That seemed rude. She told me when I came back to town, I should look her up in the phone book and come visit her. I just might. I really enjoyed her class, and [the gifted programme] was always a respite from the rest of the school.
We were bussed to [the gifted programme] every Wednesday (each school in the district went on different days). It was a special programme where we didn't do regular classes. We got to do Logic (instead of Maths) and play with these things called computers (this WAS the mid-80s, remember) and had Creative Writing (instead of English) and every one else was either a nerd or a geek, too. Going back to my regular school on Thursday was SUCH a letdown.
I really may look up Mrs. Tennison come December.
12 February 2011
A Satisfying Day
I got more accomplished today than expected, because of help from Ria and Naomi.
I got great news from a close friend.
I got to hear my mom and Ria argue about who hung up on who.
I laughed myself into an asthma attack.
It was all amazingly satisfying.
I got great news from a close friend.
I got to hear my mom and Ria argue about who hung up on who.
I laughed myself into an asthma attack.
It was all amazingly satisfying.
04 January 2011
A very NASCAR Christmas
As Ria could tell you, not very many of the Christmas presents in our family are a surprise. Part of it is a byproduct of year-round Christmas shopping, and part of it because we spend a lot of time together (or did before I moved to Philadelphia - but the rest of them do). So when we're together and someone says "Oooh, I like that!" someone else will say, "Want me to get it for you for Christmas?" and we will, but then we'll take it home, wrap it up, and the other person will have to wait until Christmas day to open it.
When we were in Charlotte for Race Week, we bought each other a LOT of stuff for Christmas. I got Mom a Joey Logano stuffed teddy bear. She got me Kyle Busch pajama pants and a Carl Edwards coat, and her husband bought me a Kyle Busch hat. "Joey bear" as he was dubbed came home to Philly with me (because I didn't trust Mom not to leave him alone until December), but the rest of the haul went to Missouri to be wrapped up.
In October, when I met Jack Roush in the pits at Kansas Speedway (which I WILL get around to blogging about someday), I got a really good picture of him. I decided to get this picture printed and framed for Mom's husband because he hates Roush with a passion. So I thought it would be a fun gag gift:
Anyway. First, I opened the Kyle Busch hat. So I put it on:
Then, I thought it would be funny to have both a Kyle hat and a Carl jacket on. So I put the hat back on. Then some point later, I opened the Kyle pajama pants. So I promptly put them on, too. For some reason, I doubt I'll be starting any fashion fads:
This prompted my mother to tell a story about when I was a kid. ALLEGEDLY, I was given some underwear, and I was very excited about this. So I put them on over my pants and wore them for the rest of the day. I asked Grandma if this was true, and she said it was. I said, "Grandma! You were supposed to bail me out!" She said, "Oh, I was?" Duh.
When we were in Charlotte for Race Week, we bought each other a LOT of stuff for Christmas. I got Mom a Joey Logano stuffed teddy bear. She got me Kyle Busch pajama pants and a Carl Edwards coat, and her husband bought me a Kyle Busch hat. "Joey bear" as he was dubbed came home to Philly with me (because I didn't trust Mom not to leave him alone until December), but the rest of the haul went to Missouri to be wrapped up.
In October, when I met Jack Roush in the pits at Kansas Speedway (which I WILL get around to blogging about someday), I got a really good picture of him. I decided to get this picture printed and framed for Mom's husband because he hates Roush with a passion. So I thought it would be a fun gag gift:
 |
| Upon opening it, he said, "A picture of the ugliest man in the world!" |
Anyway. First, I opened the Kyle Busch hat. So I put it on:
Then, after awhile, I got warm, so I took it off. And after awhile, I opened the Carl coat. And I had to try it on:
Then, I thought it would be funny to have both a Kyle hat and a Carl jacket on. So I put the hat back on. Then some point later, I opened the Kyle pajama pants. So I promptly put them on, too. For some reason, I doubt I'll be starting any fashion fads:
This prompted my mother to tell a story about when I was a kid. ALLEGEDLY, I was given some underwear, and I was very excited about this. So I put them on over my pants and wore them for the rest of the day. I asked Grandma if this was true, and she said it was. I said, "Grandma! You were supposed to bail me out!" She said, "Oh, I was?" Duh.
29 October 2010
The Dover Race
Sorry it's been awhile. My life has been complicated for the past few weeks, but more on that later. Back to my vacation time with Mom. When we left off, Mom and I were about to enjoy the Dover race package that I had won, compliments of NAPA. The proper name was the NAPA Race Day Experience, or NRDE. We were welcome at the NAPA chalet all day, which was located in Hospitality Village. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
We woke up at 4:00 a.m. and left my flat at 4:30 a.m. after a short pit-stop (ha ha) at Sunoco (The Official Fuel of NASCAR) (where my mom ACTUALLY tried to buy the clerk's uniform off his back!!!) for breakfast. We pulled into the Dover parking lot exactly two hours later. Breakfast service at the chalet started at 8:00 a.m., so we planned on napping in the car for an hour, which would give us half an hour to wake up and find the chalet. However...
Right in front of us were these tailgaters who were literally sitting on their tailgate and hitting the Corona. The fellow on the left insisted on shouting "PUT THE LIME IN THE COCONUT!" every few minutes. Not, mind you, singing the entire song - no, no; just that one freakin' line. After a few repetitions of that, I wanted to put my lime in his coconuts, if you know what I mean:
They were literally about five feet in front of our car. Mom decided she couldn't sleep with them staring at us. I mean, it isn't as if they were staring at us on purpose. They were just kind of mindlessly staring ahead (except when something caught their attention to the side, which is when I took the opportunity to take this picture), and that's where we happened to be. Then, of course, they decided they needed a trash bag out of the back of their truck. That's when the view REALLY improved:
While I was busy snapping this picture, Mom was dying laughing at something happening to our left, which I did NOT get a picture of (sadly). You know those port-a-potty tents? Those little tents that you can take camping with you that hide port-a-potties? These people who had camped out in the parking lot hadn't staked theirs down, and it fell over. Mom laughed so hard I thought she was going to (sorry, I can't help myself here) pee her pants. She was all, "I hope no one was in there!" Meanwhile, to the right of the guys in front of us, we watched a guy (who had a grill in the bed of his pick-up truck) pull up about five inches, get out, shake his head, then back up three inches. Hope that helped, buddy.
We finally made our way to the NAPA chalet, where we received a really nice goody bag. The bag itself is a nice backpack, and in it is lip balm, a set of earplugs, a mini Sharpie, a decal, a diecast, a hat, a koozie, a poncho, and a coupon for wiper blades. They gave us breakfast, an offer for a track tour (which Mom and I skipped), and a lunch buffet (burgers, hot dog, potato salad, pasta salad, mac and cheese, coleslaw, brownies, etc.). We also got to enter a drawing to win Martin Truex, Jr.,'s helmet, and we could submit a question for the Q&A session. Speaking of the Q&A session - most of the people there were people who are NAPA employees or who are somehow affiliated with NAPA, but you could tell they definitely weren't race fans. The guys at our table had actually gone online, printed out information about Truex, and were studying for Q&A session. Mom and I were cracking up.
Martin made his appearance, answered a few questions (no, we didn't have to answer questions about him - shocking, I know), gave away his helmet, and dashed away to the Drivers' Meeting. I felt bad because a few people booed when they announced he didn't have time to sign autographs, but it was written on the information we received with the schedule of events that no autographs would be given, so I don't know what was wrong with these people.
I will say that the hospitality workers were pretty awesome. No sooner did you clean your plate than they whisked it away to the trash for you. As soon as you approached the drink barrel, one would approach from nowhere to ask you what you wanted (God forbid you should actually get your hand cold digging for your own drink!). If you were headed to a trash can with something, they'd take it from you. It was actually uncomfortable at times - "No, really - I can throw it away myself, but thanks!"
Before Martin showed up, we had wandered around to some of the other chalets to see if any of the other drivers were making their appearances. We caught the tail end of Jeff Gordon's appearance at the DuPont chalet. If you look VERY carefully, you can see his silhouette smack-dab in the middle here (ignore the grumpy-looking woman in the foreground; I don't know what her issue is):
If you follow me on Twitter, you know that after Martin's appearance, I SPRINTED like all hell (not easy to do with a year-long groin injury) to the Interstate Batteries chalet to try to catch the future Mr. Min (aka: The Elusive One), but I was told I missed him by about two minutes. Drat.
All of these activities pretty much took us to time for driver introductions. We made our way to our seats, with a quick stop at the restrooms first. And we had to laugh at the sign on the bathrooms:
The race itself was great. Our seats were amazing, and unlike at Kansas Speedway, when the national anthem ended there wasn't a race to sit down first because the seats are so close together (and bleacher style) that you want to claim your butt-space before your neighbour gets her/his butt down before you do. This will be a spoiler for those NASCAR fans who are REALLY behind on race news, but I was very pleased when The Guy Who Drives Chad's Car won the race.
After the race, we got to watch the cars go into the haulers and the haulers pull out. The way this is done at KSS, you can't see this at all. I took several pics of different haulers, but I'm only posting the most beauteous one of them all (and I took about six pics of this one):
Then we got kicked out of the speedway. Literally. The usher guy asked us to leave about four times. We were busy pointing and laughing at something and weren't done yet. It was really Ria's fault. She wouldn't answer her phone.
We woke up at 4:00 a.m. and left my flat at 4:30 a.m. after a short pit-stop (ha ha) at Sunoco (The Official Fuel of NASCAR) (where my mom ACTUALLY tried to buy the clerk's uniform off his back!!!) for breakfast. We pulled into the Dover parking lot exactly two hours later. Breakfast service at the chalet started at 8:00 a.m., so we planned on napping in the car for an hour, which would give us half an hour to wake up and find the chalet. However...
Right in front of us were these tailgaters who were literally sitting on their tailgate and hitting the Corona. The fellow on the left insisted on shouting "PUT THE LIME IN THE COCONUT!" every few minutes. Not, mind you, singing the entire song - no, no; just that one freakin' line. After a few repetitions of that, I wanted to put my lime in his coconuts, if you know what I mean:
They were literally about five feet in front of our car. Mom decided she couldn't sleep with them staring at us. I mean, it isn't as if they were staring at us on purpose. They were just kind of mindlessly staring ahead (except when something caught their attention to the side, which is when I took the opportunity to take this picture), and that's where we happened to be. Then, of course, they decided they needed a trash bag out of the back of their truck. That's when the view REALLY improved:
While I was busy snapping this picture, Mom was dying laughing at something happening to our left, which I did NOT get a picture of (sadly). You know those port-a-potty tents? Those little tents that you can take camping with you that hide port-a-potties? These people who had camped out in the parking lot hadn't staked theirs down, and it fell over. Mom laughed so hard I thought she was going to (sorry, I can't help myself here) pee her pants. She was all, "I hope no one was in there!" Meanwhile, to the right of the guys in front of us, we watched a guy (who had a grill in the bed of his pick-up truck) pull up about five inches, get out, shake his head, then back up three inches. Hope that helped, buddy.
We finally made our way to the NAPA chalet, where we received a really nice goody bag. The bag itself is a nice backpack, and in it is lip balm, a set of earplugs, a mini Sharpie, a decal, a diecast, a hat, a koozie, a poncho, and a coupon for wiper blades. They gave us breakfast, an offer for a track tour (which Mom and I skipped), and a lunch buffet (burgers, hot dog, potato salad, pasta salad, mac and cheese, coleslaw, brownies, etc.). We also got to enter a drawing to win Martin Truex, Jr.,'s helmet, and we could submit a question for the Q&A session. Speaking of the Q&A session - most of the people there were people who are NAPA employees or who are somehow affiliated with NAPA, but you could tell they definitely weren't race fans. The guys at our table had actually gone online, printed out information about Truex, and were studying for Q&A session. Mom and I were cracking up.
Martin made his appearance, answered a few questions (no, we didn't have to answer questions about him - shocking, I know), gave away his helmet, and dashed away to the Drivers' Meeting. I felt bad because a few people booed when they announced he didn't have time to sign autographs, but it was written on the information we received with the schedule of events that no autographs would be given, so I don't know what was wrong with these people.
I will say that the hospitality workers were pretty awesome. No sooner did you clean your plate than they whisked it away to the trash for you. As soon as you approached the drink barrel, one would approach from nowhere to ask you what you wanted (God forbid you should actually get your hand cold digging for your own drink!). If you were headed to a trash can with something, they'd take it from you. It was actually uncomfortable at times - "No, really - I can throw it away myself, but thanks!"
 | |||
| Martin Truex, Jr. |
Before Martin showed up, we had wandered around to some of the other chalets to see if any of the other drivers were making their appearances. We caught the tail end of Jeff Gordon's appearance at the DuPont chalet. If you look VERY carefully, you can see his silhouette smack-dab in the middle here (ignore the grumpy-looking woman in the foreground; I don't know what her issue is):
 |
| Jeff Gordon, I promise! |
All of these activities pretty much took us to time for driver introductions. We made our way to our seats, with a quick stop at the restrooms first. And we had to laugh at the sign on the bathrooms:
 | |||||
| Go Fast; Team Tylenol: Feel Better Fast |
 |
| The Guy Who Drives Chad's Car doing his burn out. Chad had given him strict instructions NOT to hurt the chassis. "Burn all the rubber you want. DO NOT HURT MY CHASSIS." |
 |
| The most gorgeous hauler I ever did see. |
20 August 2010
DrPH News
On Wednesday, I officially got news that my application for the DrPH programme for which I had applied was rejected. I think it was nice of them to let me know a full 34 days before classes were to have started. But the chair of the programme did handwrite a note of the bottom of the form rejection letter that reads "please call me if you'd like to discuss," and a neighbour of mine who's a professor told me this is a VERY encouraging sign.
Thank you to those of you who supported me through the roller-coaster of emotions this summer while I waited.
And now that I know that I won't be attending school, I'll start the job search in earnest. I had been hesitant to do so because I didn't want to start a job only to tell them that I had to leave because I found out that I was beginning school. And then, a few years later, have a bad reputation in the public health community for having shafted XYZ organisation.
So, now that my days are unscheduled for the next however long, I have contacted Michael Waltrip Racing (you may remember that I won a RaceDay Experience when I was in North Carolina) to claim tickets to the Dover race. Mom is going to fly out here, and we will go to that race together. Then we will fly to Kansas City together to attend the Kansas race together (those races are back-to-back weekends.
It's been a banner year: I lost a job, lost Oscar, got rejected from a school, and for those of you especially close to me, you know about The Big Drama going on this week that I won't be blogging about for matters of personal security.
Thank you to those of you who supported me through the roller-coaster of emotions this summer while I waited.
And now that I know that I won't be attending school, I'll start the job search in earnest. I had been hesitant to do so because I didn't want to start a job only to tell them that I had to leave because I found out that I was beginning school. And then, a few years later, have a bad reputation in the public health community for having shafted XYZ organisation.
So, now that my days are unscheduled for the next however long, I have contacted Michael Waltrip Racing (you may remember that I won a RaceDay Experience when I was in North Carolina) to claim tickets to the Dover race. Mom is going to fly out here, and we will go to that race together. Then we will fly to Kansas City together to attend the Kansas race together (those races are back-to-back weekends.
It's been a banner year: I lost a job, lost Oscar, got rejected from a school, and for those of you especially close to me, you know about The Big Drama going on this week that I won't be blogging about for matters of personal security.
22 June 2010
At long last - NASCAR HOF
As promised, here's the blog post on the NASCAR HOF.
When you enter, there's an exhibit of the various cars through the years. If you aren't paying attention, it seems as it the cars are just on a really cool inclining curve. However, for those who stop to - ahem - READ the signs that are posted (MOM, I'm talking to YOU!), you'll note that the incline is marked and represents the grade of different tracks on the circuit. And when the incline reaches 33º, there's a section where you can walk on the "track" - or, rather, attempt to. This isn't a great pic, because it's hard to see the whole "track" and the grade in a one-dimensional pic, but I think you can get the general idea:
On the floors above are exhibit halls. They had some of Dale Earnhardt's personal items, some of the cars, and the trophies. Mom and I got a kick out of the difference between the trophies from back in the day and now. Between exhibit rooms, they had hallways filled with memorabilia you can look at. And interspersed are placards with various drivers and owners who have allegedly made an impact on the sport. I say "allegedly" because at one point, I heard Mom say, "Oh my God," and I said, "What?" She said, "You'll see when you get here." About five seconds later, I said, "Holy crap. They'll let anyone in here."
There's a really great interactive area where you can practice being a jackman; try your hand at play-by-play (I wanted Mom to be Mike Joy to my DW, but she refused. She said she'd sit there and pretend while I did it by myself, but I thought it be lame to just do all the talking.); and there's a HUGE ASS board where you can see the owner's points, driver's points, manufacturer's points and how they can move around from race to race based on bonus points, etc. There were race car simulators where you could race your friends and family. And there's a Lowe's hauler you can walk through. (And unlike when I was at the grounds of Hendrick, I did not kiss the ground that Chad Knaus walked on. I knew this was a replica hauler. So shaddup.) And there's a Lowe's pit box. Where the genius that is Chad Knaus sits and works.
They really maximised all the space. For instance, even the elevator had an exhibit showing the evolution of the NASCAR logo throughout the years. And in the area in front of the stairwell, they had an exhibit showing the evolution of the firesuits throughout the years.
Please click here to take a look at the (over 100) pics I took at the HOF. I've barely touched on all of the things that are there, including the hilarious offer that DW made when a bunch of drivers all anted up when some stuff in one of the garaged mysteriously walked away. There are some really lovely tributes to fallen NASCAR comrades that I captured, and I hope you won't miss those. But I've tried to use this space to capture the entire feel of the HOF, albeit (somewhat) briefly knowing that not all of my readers are NASCAR fans.
In the coming days: a look at some recent knitted finished objects and a tribute to Michael Jackson on the anniversary of his death.
When you enter, there's an exhibit of the various cars through the years. If you aren't paying attention, it seems as it the cars are just on a really cool inclining curve. However, for those who stop to - ahem - READ the signs that are posted (MOM, I'm talking to YOU!), you'll note that the incline is marked and represents the grade of different tracks on the circuit. And when the incline reaches 33º, there's a section where you can walk on the "track" - or, rather, attempt to. This isn't a great pic, because it's hard to see the whole "track" and the grade in a one-dimensional pic, but I think you can get the general idea:
On the floors above are exhibit halls. They had some of Dale Earnhardt's personal items, some of the cars, and the trophies. Mom and I got a kick out of the difference between the trophies from back in the day and now. Between exhibit rooms, they had hallways filled with memorabilia you can look at. And interspersed are placards with various drivers and owners who have allegedly made an impact on the sport. I say "allegedly" because at one point, I heard Mom say, "Oh my God," and I said, "What?" She said, "You'll see when you get here." About five seconds later, I said, "Holy crap. They'll let anyone in here."
There's a really great interactive area where you can practice being a jackman; try your hand at play-by-play (I wanted Mom to be Mike Joy to my DW, but she refused. She said she'd sit there and pretend while I did it by myself, but I thought it be lame to just do all the talking.); and there's a HUGE ASS board where you can see the owner's points, driver's points, manufacturer's points and how they can move around from race to race based on bonus points, etc. There were race car simulators where you could race your friends and family. And there's a Lowe's hauler you can walk through. (And unlike when I was at the grounds of Hendrick, I did not kiss the ground that Chad Knaus walked on. I knew this was a replica hauler. So shaddup.) And there's a Lowe's pit box. Where the genius that is Chad Knaus sits and works.
They really maximised all the space. For instance, even the elevator had an exhibit showing the evolution of the NASCAR logo throughout the years. And in the area in front of the stairwell, they had an exhibit showing the evolution of the firesuits throughout the years.
Please click here to take a look at the (over 100) pics I took at the HOF. I've barely touched on all of the things that are there, including the hilarious offer that DW made when a bunch of drivers all anted up when some stuff in one of the garaged mysteriously walked away. There are some really lovely tributes to fallen NASCAR comrades that I captured, and I hope you won't miss those. But I've tried to use this space to capture the entire feel of the HOF, albeit (somewhat) briefly knowing that not all of my readers are NASCAR fans.
In the coming days: a look at some recent knitted finished objects and a tribute to Michael Jackson on the anniversary of his death.
05 June 2010
The Red Bull Event (Finally)
Sorry the blog has been quiet. There was a change in travel plans; instead of me flying home on Wednesday as originally planned, Mom and Dale decided to just drive me back to Philly and then go home via the PA Turnpike then good ol' I-70. Although I got home a day earlier than planned, I think the sitting in a van for two days straight (and navigating from the backseat - since Mom's Garmin is STOOPID and Dale is blind in one eye and left his hearing aids in his suitcase because he "didn't want to have them in when we were at the track" although we were actually driving AWAY from the track) left me exhausted.
I still need to blog about the FABULOUS trip to the NASCAR Hall of Fame, so that will be the next blog post. But I keep referring to the truly awful Red Bull Racing Team Fan Appreciation Event (in conversations, in IMs, in Twitters, etc.), so I thought I should actually spill the beans on it.
The event was billed to start at 2:00 p.m. with driver appearances from 3:00 - 4:00 p.m. (drivers being Brian Vickers, Casey Mears, Scott Speed, and Cole Whitt). There would be a raffle for Red Bull prizes and memorabilia, a driver Q&A, an autograph session, and we would "learn the art of four tires and fuel."
We got there a little before 2:00 p.m. so we could figure out what was going on. We found out that most of the event was on this courtyard-like level, while the autograph session would be taking place down a double flight of stairs leading to the merchandise hauler (that had been brought in from Souvenir Alley at the track and staffed by the same LOVELY people - sense the sarcasm?). We were told that to get a ticket to the autograph session, you had to buy something from the hauler OR wait until 2:50 p.m. and hope there were tickets leftover and get one then. Now, let me back up to earlier that morning in the motel room: I had told Mom that I was putting my receipt from the Red Bull Team Shop in my track bag for when we went to the Speedway since Scott generally has autograph sessions there on race day, but you have to buy something from the hauler, and I would ask if buying $52.80 worth of stuff at the shop wouldn't count. And I was putting my receipt in the bag that day since I had seen it and it was on my mind, and I was afraid I'd forget on actual race day.
So upon hearing that now I need to buy something from the hauler to get a ticket for THIS autograph session, I'm really glad I had put my receipt in my bag that morning. So Mom and I go downstairs to the hauler, and I start to say to the guy that I'd heard from the woman upstairs that the conditions for getting an autograph were XYZ. He interrupts me and says, "You don't HAVE to buy something. You can get in line at 2:50 and hope there are tickets left." I said, "Okay, but what I want to know is if --" and that's as far as I get because he interrupts me and says, "Do you UNDERSTAND? You don't HAVE to buy anything. You can get a ticket free. OKAY?" I said, "Will you just let me ask my question?" He finally did, and then said, "She didn't give a ticket then?" I said no, but what I really wanted to say was, "Well, gee, Mister, she did, but I wanted an extra one for my imaginary friend, and that's why I'm down here arguing with you about it."
Mom and I go upstairs to check things out for awhile, grab some free Red Bulls for later (I can't drink them, but Mom and Dale can). Then we found out that the Q&A would be on the courtyard level beginning at 3:00 p.m., but the autographs would be at the hauler beginning at 3:15 p.m.... where people with tickets were already lining up. And, you know, the people with tickets were the same people who really wanted to hear the Q&A sessions (there were two sessions - one with just Cole Whitt and then the second one with the other three). And, honestly, they aren't REALLY going to make fans choose between getting autographs or hearing their driver speak, right?
Mom and I in the autograph line and then we start wondering if the line we're in is maybe the line for people who DON'T have tickets yet. So we ask the people in front of us if they have a ticket; nope. But the people behind us DO. So I stay in line while Mom goes to the front to find out what's going on. She comes back to report that the woman in the trailer was astounded that there were TWO types of people in the line, but said that she would be out shortly to organise us into two separate lines.
So I go upstairs where guys are giving out wristbands for alcoholic drinks. I asked for one (admittedly mostly because they had been asking everyone else if they wanted one and I'd passed through SEVERAL times without being asked once). I got carded, which is fine, but I got a side dish of attitude with it, which is NOT fine. Then I got the "Look, I'm just doing my job" line. I flashed my ID, along with "Yeah, I AM 35," got my wristband and walked off.
Now, I find the raffle table. The raffle tickets are a buck each and the proceeds go to the Speedway Children's Charities. Since you HAD to be present to win, I asked what time the drawing was (since I knew we had to leave early-ish because of the World of Outlaws race), and I was told 2:30 and 3:30. I bought two tickets, and only AFTER I bought the tickets did it dawn on me to wonder how I would be present to win at 3:30 if I was in line getting an autograph at 3:15.
So now I'm still trying to figure all of this out, I'm upstairs by myself, Mom is sitting downstairs in line by herself, I'm getting ready to Twitter about what a disorganised mess this all is when a guy in a Red Bull outfit comes up to me and asks, "Do you have a ticket for today's autograph session?" I said, "I do, yes, thank you. And, by the way, can you tell me a little bit about how this event is working?" He explained that as long as you had a ticket, you were guaranteed an autograph and didn't need to be waiting downstairs in line so I COULD hear the Q&A and get an autograph. I told him that he might want to explain that to the people in the merchandise hauler because they didn't seem to understand. I also asked him how I was supposed to be present for a raffle drawing at 3:30 and get an autograph at 3:15, and he admitted that was a good question. And he pointed out the person to whom I should address that question. I told him that, thus far, he had been BY FAR the friendliest, most knowledgeable Red Bull rep at the event, and that I really appreciated his time. He said that, as one of the people who helped organise it, he was sorry to hear that it was really frustrating for the attendees, but that he would be passing along the feedback because it was important to Red Bull that they portray a good image.
I go back downstairs to Mom (Red Bull in hand) who tells me that the hauler guy hadn't separated them into two lines. Instead, he just came out (WAY before 2:50, mind) and handed out tickets to anyone who didn't have them. Then he came back about ten minutes later and collected ALL of them again. And about five minutes after that handed them all out again.
By this time, they draw the first raffle at 2:30 and when they're done, they announce that they'll draw the rest of the prizes at.... 4:30 p.m. WTF???? So I go directly to the raffle table and ask them if I heard correctly. Yes, I had. And this is when I pretty much go postal. And this is when Red Bull Lady says the exact wrong thing to me, which is "Well, if you only bought two tickets, you only lost two dollars." The other raffle table lady points to Milan (the guy from earlier), and I think his Spidey sense was tingling because he was already headed our way and he said, "Is there something I can help with?"
I explained that it wasn't the two dollars. It wasn't the donation to Speedway Children's Charities. It was the principle of the thing. It was yet ANOTHER example of just how disorganised and chaotic their entire event had been. He explained that he didn't know who had told me 3:30 but they were wrong, but he believed that's what I had been told based on me asking him that question earlier. He explained that things were running late now (Casey, Brian, and Scott hadn't started their Q&A) because they were at a television appearance that was running late, but they had been texted that they needed to be here NOW. I said that I understood that a tv thing was out of their control and I certainly didn't hold them accountable for that. But not being able to coordinate a simple autograph session with a Q&A? Or give people accurate information about a raffle drawing? For a three-hour event? Really?
I go downstairs to relay the newest development to Mom only to hear the hauler guy telling the people in line, "The drivers are upstairs RIGHT NOW doing their Q&A and will be signing in just a few minutes." I said, "Excuse me, but they aren't even here right now. They're at a television appearance. They've been texted and told they're running late. As soon as they get here, they'll do the Q&A, and THEN they'll be here."
Mom said that the whole time I'd been upstairs, the guy came down the line about every five minutes doing a headcount. The people in line were alternating theories on whether he was too dumb to remember the original count or whether he was trying to wait for a certain number of people.
FINALLY, the Casey and Brian got there and the Q&A started. Now, see, when they said Q&A, I had thought that the fans would get to ask some questions. Nope, instead some Red Bull guy asked some lame-o questions for about five minutes. And then we all went downstairs to get our autographs.
Oh, and the art of four tires and fuel? Never learned it.
After, Mom and I came upstairs (there was a candied apple place on the courtyard that Mom wanted to hit) and while Mom and I were talking, Milan wandered over with a prize from the raffle for me (a pair of driving gloves!). I have to say that Milan is excellent at his job - trying to de-escalate situations, telling us that he had spoken to his supervisor about our complaints, talking to my mom about how sorry he was, using a calming voice, etc. He explained that it was important to Red Bull that people leave with a good impression of the brand, and that he hoped the good-will gesture would go a long way.
I have to say that I feel good-will toward Milan but not so much toward Red Bull or toward the merchandise hauler staff or toward the Red Bull shop staff (the ones who told the other people in the store with us that Scott has a life and that's why he wasn't in the shop that day).
Anyway, that's the story of why Scott is lucky to still have me as a fan after all of that.
Oh, and we DID make it The Dirt Track. And that race got rained out. So it was a winner of a day.
But the highlight of my day? When Scott gave a thumbs-up when he saw the Scott Speed backpack and Scott Speed BlackBerry carrier my mom made me.
For the rest of the pics from that day (Speed Street, The Worst Event Ever, and The Dirt Track), click here!
I still need to blog about the FABULOUS trip to the NASCAR Hall of Fame, so that will be the next blog post. But I keep referring to the truly awful Red Bull Racing Team Fan Appreciation Event (in conversations, in IMs, in Twitters, etc.), so I thought I should actually spill the beans on it.
The event was billed to start at 2:00 p.m. with driver appearances from 3:00 - 4:00 p.m. (drivers being Brian Vickers, Casey Mears, Scott Speed, and Cole Whitt). There would be a raffle for Red Bull prizes and memorabilia, a driver Q&A, an autograph session, and we would "learn the art of four tires and fuel."
We got there a little before 2:00 p.m. so we could figure out what was going on. We found out that most of the event was on this courtyard-like level, while the autograph session would be taking place down a double flight of stairs leading to the merchandise hauler (that had been brought in from Souvenir Alley at the track and staffed by the same LOVELY people - sense the sarcasm?). We were told that to get a ticket to the autograph session, you had to buy something from the hauler OR wait until 2:50 p.m. and hope there were tickets leftover and get one then. Now, let me back up to earlier that morning in the motel room: I had told Mom that I was putting my receipt from the Red Bull Team Shop in my track bag for when we went to the Speedway since Scott generally has autograph sessions there on race day, but you have to buy something from the hauler, and I would ask if buying $52.80 worth of stuff at the shop wouldn't count. And I was putting my receipt in the bag that day since I had seen it and it was on my mind, and I was afraid I'd forget on actual race day.
So upon hearing that now I need to buy something from the hauler to get a ticket for THIS autograph session, I'm really glad I had put my receipt in my bag that morning. So Mom and I go downstairs to the hauler, and I start to say to the guy that I'd heard from the woman upstairs that the conditions for getting an autograph were XYZ. He interrupts me and says, "You don't HAVE to buy something. You can get in line at 2:50 and hope there are tickets left." I said, "Okay, but what I want to know is if --" and that's as far as I get because he interrupts me and says, "Do you UNDERSTAND? You don't HAVE to buy anything. You can get a ticket free. OKAY?" I said, "Will you just let me ask my question?" He finally did, and then said, "She didn't give a ticket then?" I said no, but what I really wanted to say was, "Well, gee, Mister, she did, but I wanted an extra one for my imaginary friend, and that's why I'm down here arguing with you about it."
Mom and I go upstairs to check things out for awhile, grab some free Red Bulls for later (I can't drink them, but Mom and Dale can). Then we found out that the Q&A would be on the courtyard level beginning at 3:00 p.m., but the autographs would be at the hauler beginning at 3:15 p.m.... where people with tickets were already lining up. And, you know, the people with tickets were the same people who really wanted to hear the Q&A sessions (there were two sessions - one with just Cole Whitt and then the second one with the other three). And, honestly, they aren't REALLY going to make fans choose between getting autographs or hearing their driver speak, right?
Mom and I in the autograph line and then we start wondering if the line we're in is maybe the line for people who DON'T have tickets yet. So we ask the people in front of us if they have a ticket; nope. But the people behind us DO. So I stay in line while Mom goes to the front to find out what's going on. She comes back to report that the woman in the trailer was astounded that there were TWO types of people in the line, but said that she would be out shortly to organise us into two separate lines.
So I go upstairs where guys are giving out wristbands for alcoholic drinks. I asked for one (admittedly mostly because they had been asking everyone else if they wanted one and I'd passed through SEVERAL times without being asked once). I got carded, which is fine, but I got a side dish of attitude with it, which is NOT fine. Then I got the "Look, I'm just doing my job" line. I flashed my ID, along with "Yeah, I AM 35," got my wristband and walked off.
Now, I find the raffle table. The raffle tickets are a buck each and the proceeds go to the Speedway Children's Charities. Since you HAD to be present to win, I asked what time the drawing was (since I knew we had to leave early-ish because of the World of Outlaws race), and I was told 2:30 and 3:30. I bought two tickets, and only AFTER I bought the tickets did it dawn on me to wonder how I would be present to win at 3:30 if I was in line getting an autograph at 3:15.
So now I'm still trying to figure all of this out, I'm upstairs by myself, Mom is sitting downstairs in line by herself, I'm getting ready to Twitter about what a disorganised mess this all is when a guy in a Red Bull outfit comes up to me and asks, "Do you have a ticket for today's autograph session?" I said, "I do, yes, thank you. And, by the way, can you tell me a little bit about how this event is working?" He explained that as long as you had a ticket, you were guaranteed an autograph and didn't need to be waiting downstairs in line so I COULD hear the Q&A and get an autograph. I told him that he might want to explain that to the people in the merchandise hauler because they didn't seem to understand. I also asked him how I was supposed to be present for a raffle drawing at 3:30 and get an autograph at 3:15, and he admitted that was a good question. And he pointed out the person to whom I should address that question. I told him that, thus far, he had been BY FAR the friendliest, most knowledgeable Red Bull rep at the event, and that I really appreciated his time. He said that, as one of the people who helped organise it, he was sorry to hear that it was really frustrating for the attendees, but that he would be passing along the feedback because it was important to Red Bull that they portray a good image.
I go back downstairs to Mom (Red Bull in hand) who tells me that the hauler guy hadn't separated them into two lines. Instead, he just came out (WAY before 2:50, mind) and handed out tickets to anyone who didn't have them. Then he came back about ten minutes later and collected ALL of them again. And about five minutes after that handed them all out again.
By this time, they draw the first raffle at 2:30 and when they're done, they announce that they'll draw the rest of the prizes at.... 4:30 p.m. WTF???? So I go directly to the raffle table and ask them if I heard correctly. Yes, I had. And this is when I pretty much go postal. And this is when Red Bull Lady says the exact wrong thing to me, which is "Well, if you only bought two tickets, you only lost two dollars." The other raffle table lady points to Milan (the guy from earlier), and I think his Spidey sense was tingling because he was already headed our way and he said, "Is there something I can help with?"
I explained that it wasn't the two dollars. It wasn't the donation to Speedway Children's Charities. It was the principle of the thing. It was yet ANOTHER example of just how disorganised and chaotic their entire event had been. He explained that he didn't know who had told me 3:30 but they were wrong, but he believed that's what I had been told based on me asking him that question earlier. He explained that things were running late now (Casey, Brian, and Scott hadn't started their Q&A) because they were at a television appearance that was running late, but they had been texted that they needed to be here NOW. I said that I understood that a tv thing was out of their control and I certainly didn't hold them accountable for that. But not being able to coordinate a simple autograph session with a Q&A? Or give people accurate information about a raffle drawing? For a three-hour event? Really?
I go downstairs to relay the newest development to Mom only to hear the hauler guy telling the people in line, "The drivers are upstairs RIGHT NOW doing their Q&A and will be signing in just a few minutes." I said, "Excuse me, but they aren't even here right now. They're at a television appearance. They've been texted and told they're running late. As soon as they get here, they'll do the Q&A, and THEN they'll be here."
Mom said that the whole time I'd been upstairs, the guy came down the line about every five minutes doing a headcount. The people in line were alternating theories on whether he was too dumb to remember the original count or whether he was trying to wait for a certain number of people.
FINALLY, the Casey and Brian got there and the Q&A started. Now, see, when they said Q&A, I had thought that the fans would get to ask some questions. Nope, instead some Red Bull guy asked some lame-o questions for about five minutes. And then we all went downstairs to get our autographs.
Oh, and the art of four tires and fuel? Never learned it.
After, Mom and I came upstairs (there was a candied apple place on the courtyard that Mom wanted to hit) and while Mom and I were talking, Milan wandered over with a prize from the raffle for me (a pair of driving gloves!). I have to say that Milan is excellent at his job - trying to de-escalate situations, telling us that he had spoken to his supervisor about our complaints, talking to my mom about how sorry he was, using a calming voice, etc. He explained that it was important to Red Bull that people leave with a good impression of the brand, and that he hoped the good-will gesture would go a long way.
I have to say that I feel good-will toward Milan but not so much toward Red Bull or toward the merchandise hauler staff or toward the Red Bull shop staff (the ones who told the other people in the store with us that Scott has a life and that's why he wasn't in the shop that day).
Anyway, that's the story of why Scott is lucky to still have me as a fan after all of that.
Oh, and we DID make it The Dirt Track. And that race got rained out. So it was a winner of a day.
But the highlight of my day? When Scott gave a thumbs-up when he saw the Scott Speed backpack and Scott Speed BlackBerry carrier my mom made me.
For the rest of the pics from that day (Speed Street, The Worst Event Ever, and The Dirt Track), click here!
29 May 2010
Well, that sucked
Yesterday... kind of a bust.
The Red Bull event... kind of sucked. BELIEVE ME when I say I will give the full details on that later. For now, we got in last night at 10:00 p.m. and it's now nearly 6:30 a.m., and we need to get going.
The World of Outlaws race... kind of rained out.
Pics from Thursday are here (the motel's internet wasn't working Thursday night, so I couldn't blog, and there wasn't enough time Friday morning). Unedited, uncaptioned. Pics from NNS practice, NSCS practice, another NNS practice session, and then NSCS quals.
Pics from last night are here. They ARE edited and captioned.
Enjoy!
The Red Bull event... kind of sucked. BELIEVE ME when I say I will give the full details on that later. For now, we got in last night at 10:00 p.m. and it's now nearly 6:30 a.m., and we need to get going.
The World of Outlaws race... kind of rained out.
Pics from Thursday are here (the motel's internet wasn't working Thursday night, so I couldn't blog, and there wasn't enough time Friday morning). Unedited, uncaptioned. Pics from NNS practice, NSCS practice, another NNS practice session, and then NSCS quals.
Pics from last night are here. They ARE edited and captioned.
Enjoy!
26 May 2010
Shops: Day Three
Let's cut to the chase. My pics from today are here. Edited and captioned.
Today's plan: Roush, Petty, and MWR.
Today's actual route: Roush, Petty, Earnhardt Ganassi with Felix Sabates, and RaceWorld (aka: MWR or Mikey's shop).
We hit Roush first (but not without a not-minor scuffle between Mom and her GPS). I scored another Christmas present (my first Christmas present was some Kyle Busch pajama pants) in
the form of a Carl Edwards Aflac jacket. After hitting the gift shop, we hit the museum and talked to some of the Roush employees. We managed to meet one from Lawrence, KS (home of KU - BOO!!!), and we asked her what was going on today. We'd noticed that people were sitting in chairs outside, which puzzled us since Roush's fan appreciation day isn't until tomorrow. It ends up that people were ALREADY lining up and preparing to camp out in the autograph line; the autographing begins at noon tomorrow, and we had arrived around 10:30 a.m. this morning. We decided we wouldn't want to sign things for the people who were sitting in the sun all day today and all morning tomorrow.
Then he hit Petty, which is directly next door to Roush - as in you don't even have to leave the driveway. Roush and Petty share a gift shop, so in the Petty building, you just browse the lobby to grab some pictures and hero cards. The End.
On to EGR, which we hadn't planned on going to (my NASCAR friends will understand why, even though they host my beloved James), but we found out that they were mere minutes from the Roush/Petty campus. On to EGR. The gift shop is... odd. You walk in and James' stuff is on the left and JPM's stuff is on the right. There's a great divide in the middle, and that's it. And, really, there isn't that much stuff. Mom and I were both pretty surprised. Even from the visitor's lookout deck, there wasn't much going on in the shop. It was... odd. And the atmosphere there was just weird. Sterile, almost.
Finally, on to the FanFest at Mikey's shop.
If you ever get a chance to go to a FanFest at MWR, GO. Make plans, do not change them, do not reconsider, do not let anyone talk you out of it. Part of it was like a mini-hospitality village - SO many free give-aways. There were moon bounces and air slides for kids, there were animals from local shelters (to be adopted, but also there for kids to adore and pet), a silent auction, and OH MY GOSH - the food and the raffles. But before I get ahead of myself, I was in fact able to print out my email affirming that I won an autograph wristband, and we claimed our prize. We wandered the silent auction, and I went NUTS when I saw that one of the prizes was a guitar autographed by Michael Jackson and his band, including Slash.
I got my autograph hat autographed by Trevor Bayne, David Reutimann, Michael Waltrip, Tim
Brown, Ryan Truex, Martin Truex, Jr., and Michael Waltrip. The first session was Trevor and David, and I mentioned to them that I had flown in from Philadelphia to watch them race. David asked me where their cheesesteaks were. I said, "Well, I didn't know how you'd like them. Onions, mushrooms, peppers?" Trevor said, "Onions are good," and David said, "That all sounds good to me!" and I told them that next time I came down, I'd come bearing cheesesteaks.
The food to be bought was Cold Stone Creamery ice cream; cotton candy; and some other random fairground types of food. And for supper: barbecued pork sandwiches or hot dogs that came with macaroni and cheese or coleslaw, a bag or chips, and a beverage - all for five bucks. The best part was when I asked what kind of meat the hot dogs were made of (since I don't eat pork). "I don't know. I think it's standard hot dog meat." So I just opted for mac and cheese. She gave me a HUGE serving of pasta and just charged three bucks for it.
By that time, it was time to move to the stage area for the announcement of the raffle prize winners. There had been four boxes in the RaceWorld lobby: a Race Day experience, an Aaron's prize, a TireMonkey.com prize, and a $100 gift certificate to the RaceWorld shop. Each box said you could enter only once per person and you HAD to be present to win. So Mom and I dutifully filled out four slips, put one in each box, and hoped for the best, although we had no idea what any of the prizes except the gift certificate were.
By the time we got our meals, and found a seat, they had JUST started to call out the winner's names. They started by giving out some stuffed Lucky Dog's, and I was disappointed that I had missed an opportunity to enter a drawing for a free Lucky Dog. Then they started giving out some other random prizes, and Mom and I finally figured out that we HAD entered for these prizes, and they WEREN'T just drawing one person from each of the four aforementioned boxes. So we settled in for awhile.
Some really cool, kick-ass prizes went by, and Mom and I figured it was okay since we'd been pretty lucky so far. I'd won the Driver Intro passes (although we didn't use them),
I'd won the autograph passes to Mikey's FanFest tonight, and really - how greedy can one family get? Then they called Mom's name (or some mangled variation of it) for a $100 gift certificate to Mikey's gift shop. It was the last of five such certificates they were giving away; I yelled at Mom, "THAT'S YOU!" (you know, just in case she had forgotten her name). After that, I settled back in because I figured after THAT kick-ass prize, really - just how greedy can one family get? I mean, seriously??? And then they announced the biggest prize of the night: a Race Day experience. Tickets to a future race, a meet-and-greet with Martin Truex, Jr., and some other race day perks that I don't remember (it's kind of a blur). And THEN. THEY. ANNOUNCED. MY. NAME.
I'll admit it. I screamed. And ran like hell to the stage. I got a card from the Director of Fan Relations with instructions to email him, and he'll email me back with a list of the 8-10 races from which I can choose to go to and claim my prize. In that email, he'll also outline all of
the perks of the prize. I am SO psyched!!!!!
Then we went to the gift shop because we found out that Mom had to redeem her gift certificate tonight. So... shopping spree time! Here's the haul (the Trevor Bayne shirt was a gift for me; he's the newest member of my Harem):
Today's plan: Roush, Petty, and MWR.
Today's actual route: Roush, Petty, Earnhardt Ganassi with Felix Sabates, and RaceWorld (aka: MWR or Mikey's shop).
We hit Roush first (but not without a not-minor scuffle between Mom and her GPS). I scored another Christmas present (my first Christmas present was some Kyle Busch pajama pants) in
the form of a Carl Edwards Aflac jacket. After hitting the gift shop, we hit the museum and talked to some of the Roush employees. We managed to meet one from Lawrence, KS (home of KU - BOO!!!), and we asked her what was going on today. We'd noticed that people were sitting in chairs outside, which puzzled us since Roush's fan appreciation day isn't until tomorrow. It ends up that people were ALREADY lining up and preparing to camp out in the autograph line; the autographing begins at noon tomorrow, and we had arrived around 10:30 a.m. this morning. We decided we wouldn't want to sign things for the people who were sitting in the sun all day today and all morning tomorrow.Then he hit Petty, which is directly next door to Roush - as in you don't even have to leave the driveway. Roush and Petty share a gift shop, so in the Petty building, you just browse the lobby to grab some pictures and hero cards. The End.
On to EGR, which we hadn't planned on going to (my NASCAR friends will understand why, even though they host my beloved James), but we found out that they were mere minutes from the Roush/Petty campus. On to EGR. The gift shop is... odd. You walk in and James' stuff is on the left and JPM's stuff is on the right. There's a great divide in the middle, and that's it. And, really, there isn't that much stuff. Mom and I were both pretty surprised. Even from the visitor's lookout deck, there wasn't much going on in the shop. It was... odd. And the atmosphere there was just weird. Sterile, almost.
Finally, on to the FanFest at Mikey's shop.
If you ever get a chance to go to a FanFest at MWR, GO. Make plans, do not change them, do not reconsider, do not let anyone talk you out of it. Part of it was like a mini-hospitality village - SO many free give-aways. There were moon bounces and air slides for kids, there were animals from local shelters (to be adopted, but also there for kids to adore and pet), a silent auction, and OH MY GOSH - the food and the raffles. But before I get ahead of myself, I was in fact able to print out my email affirming that I won an autograph wristband, and we claimed our prize. We wandered the silent auction, and I went NUTS when I saw that one of the prizes was a guitar autographed by Michael Jackson and his band, including Slash.I got my autograph hat autographed by Trevor Bayne, David Reutimann, Michael Waltrip, Tim
Brown, Ryan Truex, Martin Truex, Jr., and Michael Waltrip. The first session was Trevor and David, and I mentioned to them that I had flown in from Philadelphia to watch them race. David asked me where their cheesesteaks were. I said, "Well, I didn't know how you'd like them. Onions, mushrooms, peppers?" Trevor said, "Onions are good," and David said, "That all sounds good to me!" and I told them that next time I came down, I'd come bearing cheesesteaks.The food to be bought was Cold Stone Creamery ice cream; cotton candy; and some other random fairground types of food. And for supper: barbecued pork sandwiches or hot dogs that came with macaroni and cheese or coleslaw, a bag or chips, and a beverage - all for five bucks. The best part was when I asked what kind of meat the hot dogs were made of (since I don't eat pork). "I don't know. I think it's standard hot dog meat." So I just opted for mac and cheese. She gave me a HUGE serving of pasta and just charged three bucks for it.
By that time, it was time to move to the stage area for the announcement of the raffle prize winners. There had been four boxes in the RaceWorld lobby: a Race Day experience, an Aaron's prize, a TireMonkey.com prize, and a $100 gift certificate to the RaceWorld shop. Each box said you could enter only once per person and you HAD to be present to win. So Mom and I dutifully filled out four slips, put one in each box, and hoped for the best, although we had no idea what any of the prizes except the gift certificate were.
By the time we got our meals, and found a seat, they had JUST started to call out the winner's names. They started by giving out some stuffed Lucky Dog's, and I was disappointed that I had missed an opportunity to enter a drawing for a free Lucky Dog. Then they started giving out some other random prizes, and Mom and I finally figured out that we HAD entered for these prizes, and they WEREN'T just drawing one person from each of the four aforementioned boxes. So we settled in for awhile.
Some really cool, kick-ass prizes went by, and Mom and I figured it was okay since we'd been pretty lucky so far. I'd won the Driver Intro passes (although we didn't use them),
I'd won the autograph passes to Mikey's FanFest tonight, and really - how greedy can one family get? Then they called Mom's name (or some mangled variation of it) for a $100 gift certificate to Mikey's gift shop. It was the last of five such certificates they were giving away; I yelled at Mom, "THAT'S YOU!" (you know, just in case she had forgotten her name). After that, I settled back in because I figured after THAT kick-ass prize, really - just how greedy can one family get? I mean, seriously??? And then they announced the biggest prize of the night: a Race Day experience. Tickets to a future race, a meet-and-greet with Martin Truex, Jr., and some other race day perks that I don't remember (it's kind of a blur). And THEN. THEY. ANNOUNCED. MY. NAME.I'll admit it. I screamed. And ran like hell to the stage. I got a card from the Director of Fan Relations with instructions to email him, and he'll email me back with a list of the 8-10 races from which I can choose to go to and claim my prize. In that email, he'll also outline all of
the perks of the prize. I am SO psyched!!!!!Then we went to the gift shop because we found out that Mom had to redeem her gift certificate tonight. So... shopping spree time! Here's the haul (the Trevor Bayne shirt was a gift for me; he's the newest member of my Harem):
25 May 2010
A Two-For-One Special
Sunday, Mom and Dale went to visit Dale's sister-in-law who usually lives in the KCMO area near Mom and Dale but is currently staying with her son in the Charlotte area due to health issues of both her and her husband (it's a long, convoluted story). So while they went there, I went and spent time with my friend Cristi (you can catch a quick glimpse of part of my visit to her house here.) She treated me to brunch at a wonderful place called "The Flying Biscuit." Although no biscuits actually flew, I did get to eat some of the best grits ever, and I got to try some fried green tomatoes. I also got to play Doodle Jump on her iPhone, which one of my NASCAR drivers is obsessed with, so that was exciting.
From there, we went to her place for my first sock lesson. For those who have been paying attention, you know that I've taken sock classes. And if you've been paying attention for a VERY long time, you know that I've made toe hats, I've made sock cuffs, and I've even turned heels - I've just never managed to do them all in the same project. And Cristi is determined that I knit socks. Actually, so is Brook. And Hunter. And I think a few other people wouldn't mind, either.
So she VERY graciously and generously gave me some yarn from her stash. I am now the very proud and grateful owner of some black and grey sock yarn, and a variegated skein of reds, pinks, purples, and blues. VERY pretty. She measured my foot, and pretty soon, I was casting on for my first whole sock! (And Cristi found out that when I say I'm a tight knitter, I mean it. "Boy, you ARE a tight knitter!" Then, later... "I'd like to fire a bullet through that fabric and see if it makes a dent.") She printed me out a copy of her Candi Wrappers pattern (which I'll just be doing in stockinette stitch for my first sock, but I'm using the pattern for the construction), and gave me some stitch markers (that woman's generosity is never ending).
And, of course, I got to pet Ripple and she held Calvin for a few seconds so I give him a quick skritch. We also watched a fascinating (and quite good) documentary on the Miss Gay America pageant - an annual pageant for gay female impersonators (Cristi: are there any STRAIGHT female impersonators?). After, we looked up whether any of the contestants we'd followed through the movie had won in the subsequent years, and happily one had! And, he's from KCMO! Yay!
Yesterday, we spent the day in Mooresville touring the team shops. Our first stop was RaceWorld USA (aka: home of Michael Waltrip Racing). You might remember me blogging (albeit very briefly) about my trip there last December. I got a t-shirt there, and Mom scored a t-shirt and a magnet. Next up was Red Bull Racing Team. Because they had a clearance rack, I scored three shirts (one was a shirt I already have and paid full-price for last year, but I LOVE it and it was on sale for ten bucks so I got another one). Note, if you ever to Red Bull's facility, the receptionist on the left is rude. A woman came in after us (we'll call her "The Stalker" - you'll see why later), and asked if Scott was in today. Reception on the left said, "Well, you know, since he DOES have a LIFE, he isn't always in here and he's out enjoying himself today." Um, you know, a simple "No, he isn't in the shop today" would have sufficed.
However, Mom did (very nicely, since she has no interest in this AT ALL) inquire about w
here the Epicentre is in Uptown Charlotte and if it was feasible to get from there Friday afternoon to the World of Outlaws race Friday evening (are y'all tired of hearing of Friday's logistics yet?). One of the shop guys told us it should be doable unless traffic was unusually heavy. And if we thought we could pull it off, we should, because it would DEFINITELY be worth it. Oh, and by the way, if you like Red Bull and you're ever in the Mooresville area, stop by the shop. They have a fridge and you get to help yourself to complimentary Red Bulls. I can't have them because they have caffeine (not as much as I thought, though - only about the equivalent of a cup of coffee). But the fridge is too cute!
Then we headed to Germain Racing to see Todd Bodine. They don't have much going on there. Some pics and trophies in the lobby, and you can see into the shop. But it's kind of uncomfortable because their actual offices are right off the lobby. So as you're trying to take pictures, people are having meetings in their offices or are on phone calls. Plus, Mom hates Todd Bodine and who knows what could come out of her mouth at any given time. :P Next stop, TRG to get some pics for Ria's daughter. It may not look like many pics, but they're as many pics as were available in the tiny lobby.
Then we hit Penske. One of the first guys we saw when we looked t
hrough the shop windows was Steve Addington, crew chief for Blue Deuce (aka: Kurt Busch). A guy near me had a picture and a miniature helmet of Addington he wanted autographed, so the cashier asked the security guard to take both out to the shop to him. He signed the picture but wouldn't sign the helmet (and we aren't sure why). I thought about sending my autograph hat out there, but I decided not to because most of the fun of collecting the autographs on my hat is getting to meet the people at the time. And sending a guy out there in my stead would be cheating. So I settled for some blurry pictures instead.
After the Addington angst, we turned around to start shopping, and who do run into but... The Stalker. So I pointed her out to Mom and Mom laughed and said, "Where are you going next, so we can meet you there?" Then some jokes about who was following whom, and we decided that we had made it to both Red Bull and Penske before she did, so she was, indeed, stalking us. Mom and I each decided on a t-shirt (I got a Kurt shirt after FINALLY finding one that didn't have "Miller Lite" on it; she got a Brad one - blech. I didn't let her share bags in case I'd get Brad cooties). Then we went up to the "Fan Walk" of Penske where you can look out over the shop and watch them work on the cars. Behind the Fan Walk area is where they have the banners from each race win.
On our way to supper, I checked my Blackberry to find out that I was one of the winners of Mikey's contest. I won an autograph wristband for his Fan Appreciation Day on Wednesday! His event is open to everyone, but the autograph event is limited to a certain number of people. Anyone can come through the line, but only those with wristbands can get autographs and you can only get two autographs. And I won a wristband! But, as with the driver into fiasco, there's a catch. Oy. It says we have to bring a hard copy print out of the email stating I won to Race World. Um, yeah... we're travelling from out-of-state, I don't happen to have my printer with me, and we don't know anyone in the area to drop by and go "Hey, can you print this for us?" So we're going to hope that me showing up with my BlackBerry and waving the email in their face is good enough. Otherwise, Mikey is gonna have to deal with Mom and I and our un-autographed Mikey memorabilia. Mikey, consider yourself warned.
Shop pics are here. And, no, I do NOT like Brad, but I took those pics for Jen.
From there, we went to her place for my first sock lesson. For those who have been paying attention, you know that I've taken sock classes. And if you've been paying attention for a VERY long time, you know that I've made toe hats, I've made sock cuffs, and I've even turned heels - I've just never managed to do them all in the same project. And Cristi is determined that I knit socks. Actually, so is Brook. And Hunter. And I think a few other people wouldn't mind, either.
So she VERY graciously and generously gave me some yarn from her stash. I am now the very proud and grateful owner of some black and grey sock yarn, and a variegated skein of reds, pinks, purples, and blues. VERY pretty. She measured my foot, and pretty soon, I was casting on for my first whole sock! (And Cristi found out that when I say I'm a tight knitter, I mean it. "Boy, you ARE a tight knitter!" Then, later... "I'd like to fire a bullet through that fabric and see if it makes a dent.") She printed me out a copy of her Candi Wrappers pattern (which I'll just be doing in stockinette stitch for my first sock, but I'm using the pattern for the construction), and gave me some stitch markers (that woman's generosity is never ending).
And, of course, I got to pet Ripple and she held Calvin for a few seconds so I give him a quick skritch. We also watched a fascinating (and quite good) documentary on the Miss Gay America pageant - an annual pageant for gay female impersonators (Cristi: are there any STRAIGHT female impersonators?). After, we looked up whether any of the contestants we'd followed through the movie had won in the subsequent years, and happily one had! And, he's from KCMO! Yay!
Yesterday, we spent the day in Mooresville touring the team shops. Our first stop was RaceWorld USA (aka: home of Michael Waltrip Racing). You might remember me blogging (albeit very briefly) about my trip there last December. I got a t-shirt there, and Mom scored a t-shirt and a magnet. Next up was Red Bull Racing Team. Because they had a clearance rack, I scored three shirts (one was a shirt I already have and paid full-price for last year, but I LOVE it and it was on sale for ten bucks so I got another one). Note, if you ever to Red Bull's facility, the receptionist on the left is rude. A woman came in after us (we'll call her "The Stalker" - you'll see why later), and asked if Scott was in today. Reception on the left said, "Well, you know, since he DOES have a LIFE, he isn't always in here and he's out enjoying himself today." Um, you know, a simple "No, he isn't in the shop today" would have sufficed.
However, Mom did (very nicely, since she has no interest in this AT ALL) inquire about w
here the Epicentre is in Uptown Charlotte and if it was feasible to get from there Friday afternoon to the World of Outlaws race Friday evening (are y'all tired of hearing of Friday's logistics yet?). One of the shop guys told us it should be doable unless traffic was unusually heavy. And if we thought we could pull it off, we should, because it would DEFINITELY be worth it. Oh, and by the way, if you like Red Bull and you're ever in the Mooresville area, stop by the shop. They have a fridge and you get to help yourself to complimentary Red Bulls. I can't have them because they have caffeine (not as much as I thought, though - only about the equivalent of a cup of coffee). But the fridge is too cute!Then we headed to Germain Racing to see Todd Bodine. They don't have much going on there. Some pics and trophies in the lobby, and you can see into the shop. But it's kind of uncomfortable because their actual offices are right off the lobby. So as you're trying to take pictures, people are having meetings in their offices or are on phone calls. Plus, Mom hates Todd Bodine and who knows what could come out of her mouth at any given time. :P Next stop, TRG to get some pics for Ria's daughter. It may not look like many pics, but they're as many pics as were available in the tiny lobby.
Then we hit Penske. One of the first guys we saw when we looked t
hrough the shop windows was Steve Addington, crew chief for Blue Deuce (aka: Kurt Busch). A guy near me had a picture and a miniature helmet of Addington he wanted autographed, so the cashier asked the security guard to take both out to the shop to him. He signed the picture but wouldn't sign the helmet (and we aren't sure why). I thought about sending my autograph hat out there, but I decided not to because most of the fun of collecting the autographs on my hat is getting to meet the people at the time. And sending a guy out there in my stead would be cheating. So I settled for some blurry pictures instead.After the Addington angst, we turned around to start shopping, and who do run into but... The Stalker. So I pointed her out to Mom and Mom laughed and said, "Where are you going next, so we can meet you there?" Then some jokes about who was following whom, and we decided that we had made it to both Red Bull and Penske before she did, so she was, indeed, stalking us. Mom and I each decided on a t-shirt (I got a Kurt shirt after FINALLY finding one that didn't have "Miller Lite" on it; she got a Brad one - blech. I didn't let her share bags in case I'd get Brad cooties). Then we went up to the "Fan Walk" of Penske where you can look out over the shop and watch them work on the cars. Behind the Fan Walk area is where they have the banners from each race win.
On our way to supper, I checked my Blackberry to find out that I was one of the winners of Mikey's contest. I won an autograph wristband for his Fan Appreciation Day on Wednesday! His event is open to everyone, but the autograph event is limited to a certain number of people. Anyone can come through the line, but only those with wristbands can get autographs and you can only get two autographs. And I won a wristband! But, as with the driver into fiasco, there's a catch. Oy. It says we have to bring a hard copy print out of the email stating I won to Race World. Um, yeah... we're travelling from out-of-state, I don't happen to have my printer with me, and we don't know anyone in the area to drop by and go "Hey, can you print this for us?" So we're going to hope that me showing up with my BlackBerry and waving the email in their face is good enough. Otherwise, Mikey is gonna have to deal with Mom and I and our un-autographed Mikey memorabilia. Mikey, consider yourself warned.
Shop pics are here. And, no, I do NOT like Brad, but I took those pics for Jen.
23 May 2010
CMS Day Three: The All-Star Race
As I Twittered, Mom and I decided not to go to the track for the driver introductions. When we read the instructions for the "Mosh Pit," it said to be sure to bring your Sprint FanView to the driver intro because you would be watching the Showdown from the Nationwide garages. So we went back to the Sprint Experience to ask them for more information. We would have to meet at the Sprint Experience before the Showdown started, be held in the NNS garages during the Showdown, brought on to the track for the All-Star driver intros, the taken off after the intros and around to the grandstands after, and we might miss the very beginning of the All-Star Show.
We were also concerned that there would be a mad mob rush to the stage (I mean, it was called "Mosh Pit" for a reason). And with Mom's Sjogren's Syndrome and my torn hip cartilage, we were worried about our ability to beat a crowd. And if we couldn't beat a crowd, we'd be sunk. Because I'm 4'6" and Mom is 5'4". And if we were mired in the back of the crowd, we might as well be in out seats, which were actually pretty decent. Why miss the Showdown and the first part of the All-Star race to get pics of the backs of people's heads?
The most amazing part of the night was that weather.com had us at a 30% chance of isolated thunderstorms from 6:00 - 9:00 p.m. and it NEVER RAINED.
Okay, now let me back up. We started the day getting Robby Gordon's autograph. When Mom stepped up to his souvenir hauler, the step-stool was a few inches away from the hauler, and she managed to somehow get her foot in those few inches and stumbled. Robby said, "Are you gonna fall into me, here?" When Mom said that she fell because of the step-stool, Robby immediately asked the two men in line behind me please move the steps as soon as Mom got off of them. I heart Robby.
Speaking of the two men behind us in line... I've always tried to impress on people who aren't NASCAR fans that NASCAR events aren't just sports events - they're social events. You people watch, you meet people, you socialise with people who like your drivers, you trash-talk with people who like drivers who are rivals with your drivers... even though you know you will never meet them again. It's just one big party, which happens to have a race at the end. Anyway, these guys in line behind us at Robby's autograph line were IN. THE. KNOW. about various fan appreciation events going on this week. In fact, they are responsible for one of the most agonising decisions I have ever had to make.
I've been campaigning all week to go to the Red Bull Racing Team Fan Appreciation event this Friday from 2:00 - 4:00 p.m., which Mom keeps telling me might be difficult since we have the World of Outlaws race Friday at 6:00 p.m. But the two men in line told us about the Kyle Busch fan appreciation event. You have to get there at 11:00 a.m. to get a wristband to be eligible to get an autograph. But he won't be signing until 1:00 p.m. Which means that getting to the Red Bull event will be difficult. Blech.
The thing is, Scott appears pretty much every race weekend at every track. But Kyle is really hard to get to. But they're expecting a LOT of people, so to be GUARANTEED a wristband, we'd have to get there REALLY early. And then stay until at least 1:00 p.m. But if we get Scott, it might be tight getting to the World of Outlaws race. Blech again.
My pics from last night are here. Again, massive spoilers if you haven't seen last night's race yet. Again, unedited and uncaptioned. And in case you missed the memo on who my favourite drivers are, just check out the pics.
We were also concerned that there would be a mad mob rush to the stage (I mean, it was called "Mosh Pit" for a reason). And with Mom's Sjogren's Syndrome and my torn hip cartilage, we were worried about our ability to beat a crowd. And if we couldn't beat a crowd, we'd be sunk. Because I'm 4'6" and Mom is 5'4". And if we were mired in the back of the crowd, we might as well be in out seats, which were actually pretty decent. Why miss the Showdown and the first part of the All-Star race to get pics of the backs of people's heads?
The most amazing part of the night was that weather.com had us at a 30% chance of isolated thunderstorms from 6:00 - 9:00 p.m. and it NEVER RAINED.
Okay, now let me back up. We started the day getting Robby Gordon's autograph. When Mom stepped up to his souvenir hauler, the step-stool was a few inches away from the hauler, and she managed to somehow get her foot in those few inches and stumbled. Robby said, "Are you gonna fall into me, here?" When Mom said that she fell because of the step-stool, Robby immediately asked the two men in line behind me please move the steps as soon as Mom got off of them. I heart Robby.
Speaking of the two men behind us in line... I've always tried to impress on people who aren't NASCAR fans that NASCAR events aren't just sports events - they're social events. You people watch, you meet people, you socialise with people who like your drivers, you trash-talk with people who like drivers who are rivals with your drivers... even though you know you will never meet them again. It's just one big party, which happens to have a race at the end. Anyway, these guys in line behind us at Robby's autograph line were IN. THE. KNOW. about various fan appreciation events going on this week. In fact, they are responsible for one of the most agonising decisions I have ever had to make.
I've been campaigning all week to go to the Red Bull Racing Team Fan Appreciation event this Friday from 2:00 - 4:00 p.m., which Mom keeps telling me might be difficult since we have the World of Outlaws race Friday at 6:00 p.m. But the two men in line told us about the Kyle Busch fan appreciation event. You have to get there at 11:00 a.m. to get a wristband to be eligible to get an autograph. But he won't be signing until 1:00 p.m. Which means that getting to the Red Bull event will be difficult. Blech.
The thing is, Scott appears pretty much every race weekend at every track. But Kyle is really hard to get to. But they're expecting a LOT of people, so to be GUARANTEED a wristband, we'd have to get there REALLY early. And then stay until at least 1:00 p.m. But if we get Scott, it might be tight getting to the World of Outlaws race. Blech again.
My pics from last night are here. Again, massive spoilers if you haven't seen last night's race yet. Again, unedited and uncaptioned. And in case you missed the memo on who my favourite drivers are, just check out the pics.
22 May 2010
The Truck Race (mostly)
We left the motel at 8:30 a.m. and headed for the track. We got back at 2:00 a.m. So if I blogged about the entire day, it'd be an even longer post than usual. So I'll TRY to stick to the highlights (I said TRY).
First, the most pressing question on everyone's mind seems to be, "What did the designer mean by SSK?" It is, "Slip one stitch to the right needle as if to knit. Slip that stitch back to the left needle. Knit the next two stitches through the back loop." That'll teach me not to read directions first, assumptions being what they are.
So, the highlights of the day. Well, if you know
anything about my mom and I and I our track record at NASCAR (no pun intended - really), you KNEW it was going to rain. And, boy, did it ever. We managed to see the trucks final practice, the practice for the showdown cars, then left for the All-Stars practice, but came back in time for the showdown qualifying. Until the rain started. First it was a light sprinkle. Then a drizzle. Then a steady rain. Then a DELUGE. Then Mom and I regaled the folks around us with the tales of last year and her tales of the tornado and the hail that she's experienced at recent truck races. Then we wondered why no one wanted to sit with us. Which is when we got bored and started taking pics like this:
Another highlight, as a Sprint customer, I always make sure to visit "The Sprint Experience" to get my "free" goodies. I put free in quotation marks since I pay every month for my goodies. But boy did my loyalty pay off this year! I won two passes to Driver Intros at the All-Star race tonight!!!!! I had a choice between garage passes, driver intro passes, or victory lane passes, and I could take one guest (sorry, Dale). I didn't know what to do so I decided to consult with my guest, and then panicked when I couldn't find her. Found her, and then we decided. AND we found out that my prize also came with Sprint FanView for the entire weekend (okay, that part only makes sense to people who have been to the track before; sorry - and the alarm for Mom and Dale is going off as I type which means we're leaving soon so I don't time to explain).
Highlight #2 (for the Idol Knitters): We're sitting in the parking lot eating lunch (between practice and quals). I tell Mom (in no uncertain terms): I AM NOT ROOTING FOR BRETT BUTLER TONIGHT.
Mom: But I thought you decided three weeks ago he was your new favourite truck driver?
Me: I AM NOT ROOTING FOR HIM. You can't make me.
Mom: OH. Because every time you root for someone, they wreck out?
Me: That's right. So I'm NOT rooting for him.
Dale: Well, he'd probably say, "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn."
Mom: What the hell are you talking about?
Dale: Because Rhett Butler was the main guy in "Gone With the Wind."
Mom: We're talking about the TRUCK DRIVER BRETT Butler.
Dale: Oh.
Mom: God, we're dysfunctional.
Me: And you people wonder why I blog you.
Highlight #3: Meeting these guys: This is Scott
(on the left) and his friend Rick. They're from Hendersonville, NC (and I do believe I've heard of that place!). They sat right in front of us the entire day. Scott is a Kasey Kahne fan, and Rick is a Tony Stewart fan. I'm not sure if yesterday was Rick's 54th birthday or if this was just his birthday week, but he was celebrating his birthday with his friends Scott and Jeff (not pictured because Jeff is not talkative). Scott, Rick, and Jeff all hate Kyle Busch. Rick likes Ron Hornaday but also likes Todd Bodine. So we had a LOT of good-natured trash talking going on all evening long. It was SO much fun, especially at the end with Hornaday, Bodine, and Busch all doing well. I won't spoil since the race ended in the wee hours and you may not have seen it yet, but we were all screaming and yelling. My voice is still froggy, and I don't regret a minute of it.
Highlight #4: During a particularly long caution: The announcer starts talking about the track walk to benefit charity on Friday morning. After the walk, you can get free hot dogs and hamburgers cooked on a quarter mile-long grill (yes, you read that correctly). I start telling Scott and Rick all about how Mom was SWEARING the night before that she'd read about it somewhere and we thought she was nuts. So I turn to her and ask if she wants to do it, but she says it will make for a long day since we have the World of Outlaws race Friday night. "And," I point out, "We have Scott Speed Fan Appreciation Day Friday afternoon at 2:00 p.m."
Mom: I NEVER said we would definitely go to that. I said we MIGHT.
Me: YOU SAID WE WOULD. I got the flyer for it! You put it in your bag!
Mom: Putting it in my bag does not mean I'm going!
Me: We're going to Scott Speed Appreciation Day!!! We appreciate Scott Speed!!
Mom: No. YOU appreciate Scott Speed. And if you make me go to that, then YOU have to go roller skating with Joey Logano. [Note: That's Joey's fan appreciation event - roller skating.]
Me: I am NOT roller skating with that man.
Mom: That's because you forgot how to roller skate!
Me: No, I didn't! Besides, I would PAY to see YOU roller skate!
At this point, I lean up to Rick. "Enjoying your birthday?" "Oh hell yeah! I love me a good family fight!" I told him, "I told her that when you pick a 10-year-old kid as your favourite driver, OF COURSE you have to go to roller skating rinks to see them."
And just for good measure, a pic of my mom gazing adoringly at Joey:
If you want to see all of my pics from yesterday, they are here. But be warned: they are not edited, they are not captioned, they may not make sense to you, and there ARE spoilers (of various kinds) from last night's/this morning's race.
First, the most pressing question on everyone's mind seems to be, "What did the designer mean by SSK?" It is, "Slip one stitch to the right needle as if to knit. Slip that stitch back to the left needle. Knit the next two stitches through the back loop." That'll teach me not to read directions first, assumptions being what they are.
So, the highlights of the day. Well, if you know
anything about my mom and I and I our track record at NASCAR (no pun intended - really), you KNEW it was going to rain. And, boy, did it ever. We managed to see the trucks final practice, the practice for the showdown cars, then left for the All-Stars practice, but came back in time for the showdown qualifying. Until the rain started. First it was a light sprinkle. Then a drizzle. Then a steady rain. Then a DELUGE. Then Mom and I regaled the folks around us with the tales of last year and her tales of the tornado and the hail that she's experienced at recent truck races. Then we wondered why no one wanted to sit with us. Which is when we got bored and started taking pics like this:Another highlight, as a Sprint customer, I always make sure to visit "The Sprint Experience" to get my "free" goodies. I put free in quotation marks since I pay every month for my goodies. But boy did my loyalty pay off this year! I won two passes to Driver Intros at the All-Star race tonight!!!!! I had a choice between garage passes, driver intro passes, or victory lane passes, and I could take one guest (sorry, Dale). I didn't know what to do so I decided to consult with my guest, and then panicked when I couldn't find her. Found her, and then we decided. AND we found out that my prize also came with Sprint FanView for the entire weekend (okay, that part only makes sense to people who have been to the track before; sorry - and the alarm for Mom and Dale is going off as I type which means we're leaving soon so I don't time to explain).
Highlight #2 (for the Idol Knitters): We're sitting in the parking lot eating lunch (between practice and quals). I tell Mom (in no uncertain terms): I AM NOT ROOTING FOR BRETT BUTLER TONIGHT.
Mom: But I thought you decided three weeks ago he was your new favourite truck driver?
Me: I AM NOT ROOTING FOR HIM. You can't make me.
Mom: OH. Because every time you root for someone, they wreck out?
Me: That's right. So I'm NOT rooting for him.
Dale: Well, he'd probably say, "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn."
Mom: What the hell are you talking about?
Dale: Because Rhett Butler was the main guy in "Gone With the Wind."
Mom: We're talking about the TRUCK DRIVER BRETT Butler.
Dale: Oh.
Mom: God, we're dysfunctional.
Me: And you people wonder why I blog you.
Highlight #3: Meeting these guys: This is Scott
(on the left) and his friend Rick. They're from Hendersonville, NC (and I do believe I've heard of that place!). They sat right in front of us the entire day. Scott is a Kasey Kahne fan, and Rick is a Tony Stewart fan. I'm not sure if yesterday was Rick's 54th birthday or if this was just his birthday week, but he was celebrating his birthday with his friends Scott and Jeff (not pictured because Jeff is not talkative). Scott, Rick, and Jeff all hate Kyle Busch. Rick likes Ron Hornaday but also likes Todd Bodine. So we had a LOT of good-natured trash talking going on all evening long. It was SO much fun, especially at the end with Hornaday, Bodine, and Busch all doing well. I won't spoil since the race ended in the wee hours and you may not have seen it yet, but we were all screaming and yelling. My voice is still froggy, and I don't regret a minute of it.Highlight #4: During a particularly long caution: The announcer starts talking about the track walk to benefit charity on Friday morning. After the walk, you can get free hot dogs and hamburgers cooked on a quarter mile-long grill (yes, you read that correctly). I start telling Scott and Rick all about how Mom was SWEARING the night before that she'd read about it somewhere and we thought she was nuts. So I turn to her and ask if she wants to do it, but she says it will make for a long day since we have the World of Outlaws race Friday night. "And," I point out, "We have Scott Speed Fan Appreciation Day Friday afternoon at 2:00 p.m."
Mom: I NEVER said we would definitely go to that. I said we MIGHT.
Me: YOU SAID WE WOULD. I got the flyer for it! You put it in your bag!
Mom: Putting it in my bag does not mean I'm going!
Me: We're going to Scott Speed Appreciation Day!!! We appreciate Scott Speed!!
Mom: No. YOU appreciate Scott Speed. And if you make me go to that, then YOU have to go roller skating with Joey Logano. [Note: That's Joey's fan appreciation event - roller skating.]
Me: I am NOT roller skating with that man.
Mom: That's because you forgot how to roller skate!
Me: No, I didn't! Besides, I would PAY to see YOU roller skate!
At this point, I lean up to Rick. "Enjoying your birthday?" "Oh hell yeah! I love me a good family fight!" I told him, "I told her that when you pick a 10-year-old kid as your favourite driver, OF COURSE you have to go to roller skating rinks to see them."
And just for good measure, a pic of my mom gazing adoringly at Joey:
If you want to see all of my pics from yesterday, they are here. But be warned: they are not edited, they are not captioned, they may not make sense to you, and there ARE spoilers (of various kinds) from last night's/this morning's race.
21 May 2010
CMS Take Two: Day One
Posting this a day late (as many of my posts probably will be) because when one gets up at 4:30 a.m. to catch an airplane and one is not accustomed to doing so, things get messy and who knows what this post may have looked like last night. Actually, that might have been more fun.
If you read my Twitter, you know that when I got to the Philadelphia airport at 6:00 a.m. (compliments of the Lady Liberty shuttle - on-time and economical at ten bucks!), it was the MOST crowded I have EVER seen the airport, including during the holidays. They weren't even letting people cut the line in their flight time was approaching because that was, uh... EVERYONE. It was CRAZY.
Then, in Detroit (yes, you read that correctly, Delta routed me from Philly to Charlotte, NC, via Detroit), I got locked in the jetway. I was talking to a flight attendant about something a former friend of mine (a former flight attendant herself) had said to me once about not bringing overhead carry-ons because attendants are not obligated to help me with it. She told me this was FALSE, and gave me options for how to deal with this, since I can't reach the overhead compartments. Thus, I was, by far, the last one off the airplane. When I got to the top of the jetway, the door was closed, but as it was one of those doors with the bar across it, I assumed I'd hit the bar and keep on going. Instead, I hit the bar and smacked into the door. I knocked on the door. I banged on the door. I banged harder. I saw a button next to the door marked "EMERGENCY." I thought "No way. Not in an airport." I banged again. Someone banged back. Huh???? I banged back, back. She opened the door. It was ghost town on that side of the door. Apparently, no one was getting ready to board my plane after we de-planed. I'm glad she happened by, or I'd have missed my connection.
Then I RUN to make my connection. Man, I had NO idea just how MASSIVE the Detroit airport is. I need to go again when I have more time. They have a TRAM! Oh wait, I DO again in two weeks. And I have a three-hour layover. Yay me! (Btw, ever try to run with a heavy carryon with you have a hip with a torn cartilage?)
I get to Charlotte (sitting by the CUTEST. GUY. EVER) with no problems (except discovering that the pattern I've been working on was using "SSK" but not to mean "slip slip knit." Grr. Twenty minutes in the car with Mom and Dale, and they have a car fight. So that was exciting. Apparently, he has yet to master the art of shutting up with the GPS talks. In fact, he takes her speaking as his cue to START speaking.
We finally get to the motel to discover... we have no reservation. Despite Mom pulling out the information/rates the woman wrote down for us when we were here for us in December (that's my mom, ladies and gentlemen), despite my Mom having called last week to confirm, despite my Mom giving them alternate spellings of her last name - nope, no reservation. Cue flashbacks to last year's Race That Never Was with the endless rain and the lost keys and crying for weeks about the botched "I'm going to give my mom a Mother's Day vacation" treat..... Min mini-meltdown.
Finally, Mom keeps insisting, "Sir, this IS our confirmation number. PLEASE, just try again. PLEASE. I KNOW we have a room." And we do. It's just that we arrive tomorrow (now today). So Mom asks if we can arrive today. And we can. We each take as much as we can from the van to the room... to find that the card keys don't work. So we're assigned another room.
We go eat, we ask locals for the back route to the track (which takes about 15 minutes from our motel on a non-race day), we do a test run. While we're at the track, I say, "Hey, let's go to Hendrick while we're here!" So we do. Mom has a GREAT time going, "There's Chad" every five minutes (for those who don't know, he's a crew chief I LOVE and I refer to Jimmie Johnson as "The Guy Who Drives Chad's Car"). And Dale (who HATES Jack Roush) would say, "There's a Roush spy" every time he say someone driving a Ford.
We come back to discover I've left my camera battery charger at home. Cue Min mini-meltdown #2. (Note, this isn't helped by the whole getting-up-at-4:30 a.m.-and-travelling-on-five-hours-of-sleep thing.) After several calls, we find a Best Buy who has the Sony charger I need. We trek out to get it.
Finally, around 10:00 p.m., I climb into bed... to find that my sheets are stained with blood. It was one stain that started at the blanket and went right through to the flat sheet and the fitted sheet. Mom (bless her) changes back into clothes, goes to the front desk, and about ten minutes later, comes back with the clerk, who was PISSED (not at us, at the staff). We have a new room. So we move everything, which is a considerable amount of things - three people taking over a room for two weeks. I finally got to sleep around 11:30 p.m.
Today, we're off to the truck practices, the showdown practice, the All-Star practice, quals, and the truck race is tonight!
If you read my Twitter, you know that when I got to the Philadelphia airport at 6:00 a.m. (compliments of the Lady Liberty shuttle - on-time and economical at ten bucks!), it was the MOST crowded I have EVER seen the airport, including during the holidays. They weren't even letting people cut the line in their flight time was approaching because that was, uh... EVERYONE. It was CRAZY.
Then, in Detroit (yes, you read that correctly, Delta routed me from Philly to Charlotte, NC, via Detroit), I got locked in the jetway. I was talking to a flight attendant about something a former friend of mine (a former flight attendant herself) had said to me once about not bringing overhead carry-ons because attendants are not obligated to help me with it. She told me this was FALSE, and gave me options for how to deal with this, since I can't reach the overhead compartments. Thus, I was, by far, the last one off the airplane. When I got to the top of the jetway, the door was closed, but as it was one of those doors with the bar across it, I assumed I'd hit the bar and keep on going. Instead, I hit the bar and smacked into the door. I knocked on the door. I banged on the door. I banged harder. I saw a button next to the door marked "EMERGENCY." I thought "No way. Not in an airport." I banged again. Someone banged back. Huh???? I banged back, back. She opened the door. It was ghost town on that side of the door. Apparently, no one was getting ready to board my plane after we de-planed. I'm glad she happened by, or I'd have missed my connection.
Then I RUN to make my connection. Man, I had NO idea just how MASSIVE the Detroit airport is. I need to go again when I have more time. They have a TRAM! Oh wait, I DO again in two weeks. And I have a three-hour layover. Yay me! (Btw, ever try to run with a heavy carryon with you have a hip with a torn cartilage?)
I get to Charlotte (sitting by the CUTEST. GUY. EVER) with no problems (except discovering that the pattern I've been working on was using "SSK" but not to mean "slip slip knit." Grr. Twenty minutes in the car with Mom and Dale, and they have a car fight. So that was exciting. Apparently, he has yet to master the art of shutting up with the GPS talks. In fact, he takes her speaking as his cue to START speaking.
We finally get to the motel to discover... we have no reservation. Despite Mom pulling out the information/rates the woman wrote down for us when we were here for us in December (that's my mom, ladies and gentlemen), despite my Mom having called last week to confirm, despite my Mom giving them alternate spellings of her last name - nope, no reservation. Cue flashbacks to last year's Race That Never Was with the endless rain and the lost keys and crying for weeks about the botched "I'm going to give my mom a Mother's Day vacation" treat..... Min mini-meltdown.
Finally, Mom keeps insisting, "Sir, this IS our confirmation number. PLEASE, just try again. PLEASE. I KNOW we have a room." And we do. It's just that we arrive tomorrow (now today). So Mom asks if we can arrive today. And we can. We each take as much as we can from the van to the room... to find that the card keys don't work. So we're assigned another room.
We go eat, we ask locals for the back route to the track (which takes about 15 minutes from our motel on a non-race day), we do a test run. While we're at the track, I say, "Hey, let's go to Hendrick while we're here!" So we do. Mom has a GREAT time going, "There's Chad" every five minutes (for those who don't know, he's a crew chief I LOVE and I refer to Jimmie Johnson as "The Guy Who Drives Chad's Car"). And Dale (who HATES Jack Roush) would say, "There's a Roush spy" every time he say someone driving a Ford.
We come back to discover I've left my camera battery charger at home. Cue Min mini-meltdown #2. (Note, this isn't helped by the whole getting-up-at-4:30 a.m.-and-travelling-on-five-hours-of-sleep thing.) After several calls, we find a Best Buy who has the Sony charger I need. We trek out to get it.
Finally, around 10:00 p.m., I climb into bed... to find that my sheets are stained with blood. It was one stain that started at the blanket and went right through to the flat sheet and the fitted sheet. Mom (bless her) changes back into clothes, goes to the front desk, and about ten minutes later, comes back with the clerk, who was PISSED (not at us, at the staff). We have a new room. So we move everything, which is a considerable amount of things - three people taking over a room for two weeks. I finally got to sleep around 11:30 p.m.
Today, we're off to the truck practices, the showdown practice, the All-Star practice, quals, and the truck race is tonight!
07 February 2010
Ten Things I've Learned Recently
- If you're in a car singing along to Michael Jackson's "Thriller" and doing the requisite dance moves and the people in the car next to you see you, they may point and laugh.
- They may also then join in.
- Because Michael Jackson is universal.
- If you are a dedicated race fan and you think hard enough, you will figure out that crawling out of your second story window and stretching out onto your roof to clear the snow and ice from your satellite dish will restore the signal so you can see the ARCA race.
- You should NOT tell your mother that you did this.
- A fun way to pass a snowy morning is to score neighbours on their ability (or inability) to clean their snow-covered car and shovel their car out. Ideally, have Ria as a judge to help score; she's very fair at this.
- When needing to girl talk, it's good to have four people with slightly different perspectives and styles to give advice.
- It's also good to have friends who understand that disagreeing with them doesn't mean you haven't listened to them.
- Maple syrup can be substituted for vanilla extract.
- Grass will blow your hood up.
07 October 2009
Race Weekend Vacation: The Non-NASCAR Edition
I don't want to bore you non-NASCAR fans with the race details of the vacation, so I tried to confine the NASCAR stuff to the NASCAR board on Rav. Here, I will try to present some anecdotes from the trip, some of which DID happen at the track.
On Friday, Mom had a very minor car accident. She managed to back into a guy at the McDonald's drive-thru. Now just think about that sentence for a minute. LOL. We went to get breakfast on the way to the track, but she didn't realise that she had passed the speaker because the speaker was before you got to menu (this makes sense to me, but not to Mom, apparently). So she put it in reverse and backed up LITERALLY no more than two feet. And we're not talking backing up going 40 MPH, folks. We're talking going slower than parking lot speed. Sure enough, BUMP! She hit the guy behind us. Meanwhile, the woman wants our order. So she placed our order and then went to talk to the guy. There was, as you can imagine, absolutely no damage to either vehicle, and we think the guy knew we was a tad too close anyway.
We had ordered two egg and cheese biscuits and a sausage biscuit. This gets put in as a sausage biscuit and two sausage, egg, and cheese biscuits with no sausage. Okay, fine, whatever. We go to the first window to pay but they suddenly have no record of the cheese. So they make Mom pay an extra 80 cents (40 cents per sandwich) for the cheese. We go to second window and get the food - no cheese on the egg biscuits. She tells us she'll put cheese on, but it'll be 80 cents plus tax. Mom's all "Lady, how much does cheese cost??? We already paid the first lady for the cheese!"
On Saturday and Sunday, we decided to go to Burger King for breakfast instead. I told Mom I liked their breakfast sandwiches better anyway. She told me she never thought I'd admit out loud that Tony was right about anything. (Okay, sorry, non-NASCAR people; there's a NASCAR reference that makes no sense to you.)
During the Saturday race, the drunken woman behind us spilled her beer. Of course, she didn't have the courtesy to tell us that she had spilled her beer all over the blanket we were sitting on (not because our butts need to be pampered that much, but because those metal benches were COLD that day) and that it was now on our bags under our seats. When I discovered it, I told Mom. Mom felt the blanket, figured out it was wet, and rolled it up so she could still use her half, leaving me to sit on the metal bench. Then I stood up to feel my butt to see if it was wet. Drunken woman behind us tapped me on the shoulder. "Your bottom isn't wet. It just feels cold." WTF??? How would you know? And would you care to explain why our blanket smells of beer? So for the rest of the weekend, that was a running joke. In the airport, I noticed I had something on my jacket. I asked Mom what she thought it was. She looked at it and went, "Don't worry about it; it just feels cold."
On Monday, Mom and I went thrift store shopping so I could get some new work clothes. A lot of the stores offer senior discounts, for which my mom is eligible. I got three pair of work pants and about 20 sweaters/blouses for $57, including one Christopher & Banks sweater! Part of the haul is a black and red fleece pullover, which my mom is going to embroider and make into a Scott Speed fleece for me. She and I designed it together Monday night, but we ran out of time to get 'er done.
As we were getting ready to leave one thrift store, Mom spotted a sweater that she just KNEW was a Christopher & Banks sweater behind the counter. She asked the cashier if she could she it. It was brand new and still had the original tags (marked $55) on it. She saw that it was marked $24.95 and balked. She and I both hate paying that much at a thrift store. We really don't care if it's something that's brand new and expensive; you're still buying it at a THRIFT STORE!!! The guy said, "If you buy it, you're not bringing it back on me, are you?" Mom promised him she wouldn't, and she just had a feeling that she was going to get a deal on the sweater. He rang it up at $6.95. Score!
When we got to Mom's bowling league on Monday afternoon, she went to take her bowling bag out of the back of the Windstar. Now, it's a heavy bag because she has two bowling balls in there. Somehow, as it was halfway out, it tipped but she couldn't get her thumb out of it. So she sliced her thumb open. I told her right then she needed stitches. Did she listen to me? No. I told her later when she got done bowling and it was still bleeding profusely that she needed stitches. Did she listen to me then? Nope. When she woke up Tuesday morning and it was still SPURTING blood, she decided that after she dropped me off at the airport, she'd go to the doctor's office. She now has five stitches because she nicked an artery, AND she was told she should have come in right away. Sometimes the daughter DOES know best. But she's all excited because when the doctor told her to come in any time on the 16th or after to get the stitches taken out, she said, "You know, I have a seam ripper at home," and he said, "If you can stomach it, go ahead and do it."
I found out over Monday's supper at Dixon's "Famous" Chili that my grandma doesn't know how to put gas in her car. I told her that her Christmas present from me would be that I would teach her. She informed me that she does not want that present for Christmas or any other occasion because John (her partner) does that for her. I asked her what her plan was if something happens to John. Mom laughed and said, "You're looking at her." I guess if something happens to both Mom and John at the same time, I'll have to fly to KCMO every few weeks to put gas in Grandma's car.
A note on Dixon's "Famous" Chili, the oldest family-owned restaurant in KCMO. It used to just be "Dixon's Chili" until President Truman went there while he was still in office and the press all went with him. It was one of Harry's favourite restaurants and continued to be so while and after he was in office. If you're ever in town, stop by. Not everyone likes their chili, but it's good. The default is all meat and no liquid in it, but you can add beans and you can get it "soupy." The condiments they have on the table are chili powder, vinegar, and a bottle of vinegar with chili peppers. I always get the all-you-can-eat tacos because I LOVE their tacos. They just use their chili meat and load it up with cheese. YUM!
On Friday, Mom had a very minor car accident. She managed to back into a guy at the McDonald's drive-thru. Now just think about that sentence for a minute. LOL. We went to get breakfast on the way to the track, but she didn't realise that she had passed the speaker because the speaker was before you got to menu (this makes sense to me, but not to Mom, apparently). So she put it in reverse and backed up LITERALLY no more than two feet. And we're not talking backing up going 40 MPH, folks. We're talking going slower than parking lot speed. Sure enough, BUMP! She hit the guy behind us. Meanwhile, the woman wants our order. So she placed our order and then went to talk to the guy. There was, as you can imagine, absolutely no damage to either vehicle, and we think the guy knew we was a tad too close anyway.
We had ordered two egg and cheese biscuits and a sausage biscuit. This gets put in as a sausage biscuit and two sausage, egg, and cheese biscuits with no sausage. Okay, fine, whatever. We go to the first window to pay but they suddenly have no record of the cheese. So they make Mom pay an extra 80 cents (40 cents per sandwich) for the cheese. We go to second window and get the food - no cheese on the egg biscuits. She tells us she'll put cheese on, but it'll be 80 cents plus tax. Mom's all "Lady, how much does cheese cost??? We already paid the first lady for the cheese!"
On Saturday and Sunday, we decided to go to Burger King for breakfast instead. I told Mom I liked their breakfast sandwiches better anyway. She told me she never thought I'd admit out loud that Tony was right about anything. (Okay, sorry, non-NASCAR people; there's a NASCAR reference that makes no sense to you.)
During the Saturday race, the drunken woman behind us spilled her beer. Of course, she didn't have the courtesy to tell us that she had spilled her beer all over the blanket we were sitting on (not because our butts need to be pampered that much, but because those metal benches were COLD that day) and that it was now on our bags under our seats. When I discovered it, I told Mom. Mom felt the blanket, figured out it was wet, and rolled it up so she could still use her half, leaving me to sit on the metal bench. Then I stood up to feel my butt to see if it was wet. Drunken woman behind us tapped me on the shoulder. "Your bottom isn't wet. It just feels cold." WTF??? How would you know? And would you care to explain why our blanket smells of beer? So for the rest of the weekend, that was a running joke. In the airport, I noticed I had something on my jacket. I asked Mom what she thought it was. She looked at it and went, "Don't worry about it; it just feels cold."
On Monday, Mom and I went thrift store shopping so I could get some new work clothes. A lot of the stores offer senior discounts, for which my mom is eligible. I got three pair of work pants and about 20 sweaters/blouses for $57, including one Christopher & Banks sweater! Part of the haul is a black and red fleece pullover, which my mom is going to embroider and make into a Scott Speed fleece for me. She and I designed it together Monday night, but we ran out of time to get 'er done.
As we were getting ready to leave one thrift store, Mom spotted a sweater that she just KNEW was a Christopher & Banks sweater behind the counter. She asked the cashier if she could she it. It was brand new and still had the original tags (marked $55) on it. She saw that it was marked $24.95 and balked. She and I both hate paying that much at a thrift store. We really don't care if it's something that's brand new and expensive; you're still buying it at a THRIFT STORE!!! The guy said, "If you buy it, you're not bringing it back on me, are you?" Mom promised him she wouldn't, and she just had a feeling that she was going to get a deal on the sweater. He rang it up at $6.95. Score!
When we got to Mom's bowling league on Monday afternoon, she went to take her bowling bag out of the back of the Windstar. Now, it's a heavy bag because she has two bowling balls in there. Somehow, as it was halfway out, it tipped but she couldn't get her thumb out of it. So she sliced her thumb open. I told her right then she needed stitches. Did she listen to me? No. I told her later when she got done bowling and it was still bleeding profusely that she needed stitches. Did she listen to me then? Nope. When she woke up Tuesday morning and it was still SPURTING blood, she decided that after she dropped me off at the airport, she'd go to the doctor's office. She now has five stitches because she nicked an artery, AND she was told she should have come in right away. Sometimes the daughter DOES know best. But she's all excited because when the doctor told her to come in any time on the 16th or after to get the stitches taken out, she said, "You know, I have a seam ripper at home," and he said, "If you can stomach it, go ahead and do it."
I found out over Monday's supper at Dixon's "Famous" Chili that my grandma doesn't know how to put gas in her car. I told her that her Christmas present from me would be that I would teach her. She informed me that she does not want that present for Christmas or any other occasion because John (her partner) does that for her. I asked her what her plan was if something happens to John. Mom laughed and said, "You're looking at her." I guess if something happens to both Mom and John at the same time, I'll have to fly to KCMO every few weeks to put gas in Grandma's car.
A note on Dixon's "Famous" Chili, the oldest family-owned restaurant in KCMO. It used to just be "Dixon's Chili" until President Truman went there while he was still in office and the press all went with him. It was one of Harry's favourite restaurants and continued to be so while and after he was in office. If you're ever in town, stop by. Not everyone likes their chili, but it's good. The default is all meat and no liquid in it, but you can add beans and you can get it "soupy." The condiments they have on the table are chili powder, vinegar, and a bottle of vinegar with chili peppers. I always get the all-you-can-eat tacos because I LOVE their tacos. They just use their chili meat and load it up with cheese. YUM!
02 October 2009
Trip Home: Day 1
The vacation got off to a rocky start, thanks to the HR Department at the hospital. No one knows why (yet), but for some reason, they decided that the only person who was authorised to pick up the paycheques for our department was Linda. Which would be fine if Linda hadn’t been laid off in APRIL. Since April, three people have been approved to pick up our department’s paycheques, and that’s gone swimmingly well. But today... major SNAFU.
Some people didn’t understand why I insisted on getting my paystub before I left since I have direct deposit, but my reasoning was that if the amount was wrong, I wanted to know now when I was still in the same time zone as HR and my boss. Not, you know, 6:00 a.m. tomorrow when I’m trying to buy my way into some driver’s hauler or something (ha ha, I’m joking... or am I? lol). But really. I’m getting ready to go halfway across the country for nearly a week. I think I’m not being unreasonable on wanting to verify (as much as I can) that my pay will be in order before I leave the campus. Finally got the paycheque. Whew.
Got to the airport safely and on time, compliments of my friend Sarah. She caught me up on her life, and I caught her up on The Strike That Wasn’t (at least not yet).
There were only about five people ahead of me in line at ticketing, which I kind of expected since I wasn’t travelling on a holiday weekend or anything like that. The funny part was when it came time to pay for my bag (a $20 charge; thank you, US Airways). I decided to write a cheque. I’ve been writing cheques more and more lately instead of using my debit card. I’ve found that doing so forces me to think more about how much I’m spending rather than just “swipe the card, swipe the card, swipe the card.” When I’m writing out the amount (twice, even, per purchase), I’m really more conscious of what’s leaving the banc account.
Well, apparently, I’m the only person ever in the history of the world who has written a cheque to pay for a bag. Three different people had to be consulted on how to process my cheque. The woman was really nice about and apologised profusely many times, so I finally said, “Look, I really don’t care how long it takes, as long as I get on my plane tonight.” I can kind of understand not knowing where the account number on the cheque is; I mean, if I’m not thinking about it, I get the routing number and the account number on the cheque mixed up. But it turned into a farce when she asked me which number on the cheque was the check number.
Made it through security with no problems. They didn’t even question the spindle. And I brought my big, long, purpleheart wood spindle, too! I had asked Sarah for advice on how to best pack it, and she said she always just puts it in her fiber in her carry-on. I questioned her a few times about getting it through security, and she said she’s even spun on planes. So I took the gamble, and she was right. Yay!
So far on the plane ride (I’m about two-thirds of the way to KCMO), I’ve finished a book I started this morning and I cranked out my personal statement for one of my PhD applications. I’m not saying it’s perfect right now, but at least I have a nice rough draft typed out and ready to ripped apart by my friend Kristi, who has graciously agreed to help proof, edit, troubleshoot, and constructively criticize my essays/personal statements/letters of interest.
I was assigned to the last row of the airplane, but I got bumped to Row Six. I really don’t care whether I’m in the front/back/etc. But I don’t much care for the woman who is next to me. She has no concept of personal space. She has bumped into me several times without saying “excuse me.” She keeps falling asleep and snoring... loudly... with her mouth open... and she has horrible breath... and she keeps aiming it at me. Every once in awhile, she’ll wake up and put her forehead on the back of the seat in front of her and then just sit like that for awhile. I really hate her.
Also, I have been up since 3:00 a.m. CDT and I am scheduled to land 10:24 p.m. CDT. So that may have something to do with my crabbiness. I woke up an hour and a half before my alarm was set to go off, and I couldn’t get back to sleep. Bah.
Update: She just woke up and she is SUCH a rude cow (sorry, I’ve been reading a LOT of Brit chick lit lately and this is an insult widely used). She decided to get up to use the restroom and just HAD to use the back of the seat in front of her for leverage, thus WAKING UP that passenger. And, again, didn’t even bother to say “excuse me.” I wish I had something I could put in her seat while she was away.
Tomorrow’s agenda: Race track for practice and qualifying, we’ll hit the Fan Walk (the area between the Cup garage and the NNS garage where drivers sometimes mingle with the fans, Hospitality Village, and Souvenir Alley. Then to Target so I can buy Mom and Dale a new cordless telephone/answering machine for Christmas. They get to have it now and set it up now, but they’ll open the box on Christmas Day as a reminder that it was their Christmas present.
Update: She must have found another seat. She just came and collected her belongings and left. SCORE!!!!!!!
Arrived airport. Luggage also arrived. About twenty feet from baggage claim, handle on suitcase broke. Yay.
Some people didn’t understand why I insisted on getting my paystub before I left since I have direct deposit, but my reasoning was that if the amount was wrong, I wanted to know now when I was still in the same time zone as HR and my boss. Not, you know, 6:00 a.m. tomorrow when I’m trying to buy my way into some driver’s hauler or something (ha ha, I’m joking... or am I? lol). But really. I’m getting ready to go halfway across the country for nearly a week. I think I’m not being unreasonable on wanting to verify (as much as I can) that my pay will be in order before I leave the campus. Finally got the paycheque. Whew.
Got to the airport safely and on time, compliments of my friend Sarah. She caught me up on her life, and I caught her up on The Strike That Wasn’t (at least not yet).
There were only about five people ahead of me in line at ticketing, which I kind of expected since I wasn’t travelling on a holiday weekend or anything like that. The funny part was when it came time to pay for my bag (a $20 charge; thank you, US Airways). I decided to write a cheque. I’ve been writing cheques more and more lately instead of using my debit card. I’ve found that doing so forces me to think more about how much I’m spending rather than just “swipe the card, swipe the card, swipe the card.” When I’m writing out the amount (twice, even, per purchase), I’m really more conscious of what’s leaving the banc account.
Well, apparently, I’m the only person ever in the history of the world who has written a cheque to pay for a bag. Three different people had to be consulted on how to process my cheque. The woman was really nice about and apologised profusely many times, so I finally said, “Look, I really don’t care how long it takes, as long as I get on my plane tonight.” I can kind of understand not knowing where the account number on the cheque is; I mean, if I’m not thinking about it, I get the routing number and the account number on the cheque mixed up. But it turned into a farce when she asked me which number on the cheque was the check number.
Made it through security with no problems. They didn’t even question the spindle. And I brought my big, long, purpleheart wood spindle, too! I had asked Sarah for advice on how to best pack it, and she said she always just puts it in her fiber in her carry-on. I questioned her a few times about getting it through security, and she said she’s even spun on planes. So I took the gamble, and she was right. Yay!
So far on the plane ride (I’m about two-thirds of the way to KCMO), I’ve finished a book I started this morning and I cranked out my personal statement for one of my PhD applications. I’m not saying it’s perfect right now, but at least I have a nice rough draft typed out and ready to ripped apart by my friend Kristi, who has graciously agreed to help proof, edit, troubleshoot, and constructively criticize my essays/personal statements/letters of interest.
I was assigned to the last row of the airplane, but I got bumped to Row Six. I really don’t care whether I’m in the front/back/etc. But I don’t much care for the woman who is next to me. She has no concept of personal space. She has bumped into me several times without saying “excuse me.” She keeps falling asleep and snoring... loudly... with her mouth open... and she has horrible breath... and she keeps aiming it at me. Every once in awhile, she’ll wake up and put her forehead on the back of the seat in front of her and then just sit like that for awhile. I really hate her.
Also, I have been up since 3:00 a.m. CDT and I am scheduled to land 10:24 p.m. CDT. So that may have something to do with my crabbiness. I woke up an hour and a half before my alarm was set to go off, and I couldn’t get back to sleep. Bah.
Update: She just woke up and she is SUCH a rude cow (sorry, I’ve been reading a LOT of Brit chick lit lately and this is an insult widely used). She decided to get up to use the restroom and just HAD to use the back of the seat in front of her for leverage, thus WAKING UP that passenger. And, again, didn’t even bother to say “excuse me.” I wish I had something I could put in her seat while she was away.
Tomorrow’s agenda: Race track for practice and qualifying, we’ll hit the Fan Walk (the area between the Cup garage and the NNS garage where drivers sometimes mingle with the fans, Hospitality Village, and Souvenir Alley. Then to Target so I can buy Mom and Dale a new cordless telephone/answering machine for Christmas. They get to have it now and set it up now, but they’ll open the box on Christmas Day as a reminder that it was their Christmas present.
Update: She must have found another seat. She just came and collected her belongings and left. SCORE!!!!!!!
Arrived airport. Luggage also arrived. About twenty feet from baggage claim, handle on suitcase broke. Yay.
23 August 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)