Final post, folks.
Thanks to my family.
Thanks to all for your encouragement and kind words.
Thanks Camp & Brew for your hospitality.
Thanks to all who bought my crappy and cartoonish shirts. Seeing you wear them was like hearing your hit song on the radio for the first time. (Thanks, Kevin)
Thanks to all at IMS and IndyCar for everything.
I hope I have entertained and lived up to expectations.
See you next year.
Maybe.
Dedicated to Dad and Miles...
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Monday, May 26, 2008
Part 47- My 2008 Magnificent Colossal Indy 500 Photo Blog Thing: The Race Recap And Other Stuff...
Well now…another Indy 500 is in the record books.
I have been away from computers and stuff for a few days, roaming the streets near the Indianapolis Motor Speedway and taking in all the sights and sounds and smells and puddles of curdled hurl.
The Night-Before-The-Race activities on Georgetown Road are a sight to behold…many young and dumb and drunk people with no earthly idea about real and shiny and fast Indy car racing, looking to hook up. Maybe.
A little tip for those of you who attend such events….do not bring your hawt girlfriend to Night-Before-The-Race alcohol consumption contests, then get irate when she is asked to display her substantial breast assemblies.
I spent some quality time at the 2008 version of Camp ‘n’ Brew and met wonderful and real Indy racing fans who know what it all means…a first-class setup and top-notch people. I heartily endorse and recommend C&B.
Here are some C&B derelicts…
Race Day was cool and fun and exciting, and it was a chance to teach many valuable lessons to my oldest son, who is 14.
We saw an energetic fan consuming alarming amounts of beer using a system of plastic tubing and a large funnel. I explained to my boy that this was the most efficient way in which one could pour the largest amount of beer down one’s gullet in the shortest amount of time. I told my son that this was what was known as a beer bong. I also pointed out that this was also the quickest way in which one could induce projectile vomiting, and that I had never personally done a beer bong because I enjoy the taste of beer and I have always felt that I drank it fast enough directly from factory approved containers.
Yes. Indy can be an educational tool to enlighten our youth of today.
On race day we arrived early to our seats in J Stand, where all the coolest and real Indy race fans sit, because we have issues and we did not want to miss any of the opening ceremonies and drama.
However, I believe IMS needs to improve accommodations in J Stand. Even though I have a skinny arse, most Americans do not, and I find the seats in J Stand are much too close together. We were packed like a can of pickled fishes in J Stand, and it is extremely uncomfortable and difficult to get up and go pee, or something, without crushing your neighbors’ feet and munchie supplies. Plus, there is no place in J Stand to stash your regulation sized coolers, as there is no room under the narrow seats. This is all due to faulty design…probably by a malingering Purdue engineering student.
I am getting old and grumpy. Maybe.
We saw Slash and a Medal of Honor recipient. They were the coolest of all the celebrities. The rest of them I neither knew nor cared about, because I don’t watch much stupid TV.
Mrs. Brady and Gomer were in fine form and sang with much gusto.
Julie Huff sang the National Anthem in an irritating manner.
She tried to ghetto it up, or something, and made me snarl and wince.
National Anthem singers should just sing the song and not put a lot of personal touches to it. If I want to hear your personal touches, I’ll buy your highly over-rated, bad-pop-music-version-of-country-music CD.
Stick to dancing, Julie, but I won’t watch that either.
The Right Reverand ArchBishop of Canterbury O'Meara gave the prayer of the day. It was pretty cool until he had to bring in the politics of open wheel racing into the mix. More personal touches, I guess. Some people, even a man of the cloth, can’t help ad-libbing. We all gotta have our moment in the sun. Kinda.
The best part of the opening ceremonies, and one which wasn’t ruined by adding personal touches, was the playing of Taps by a lone bugler, Sgt. Byron Bartosh of the Indiana National Guard.
It is at this moment when one should shed a quiet tear and be thankful and a little sad all at the same time. I know I was.
Sgt. Bartosh knows how to play his bugle, knows what Indy and Memorial Day mean, and knows how to be prudent and proper and reverent.
I salute Sgt. Byron Bartosh!
Next, the balloons went up, and I thought I was going to see a heinous flying incident when an annoying and ever-present camera helicopter almost collided with the display of airborne latex, helium-filled celebratory devices.
Luckily, this did not occur.
The start of the race was relatively orderly, and the field of 33 fast and shiny Indy racers hurled through Turn One in a safe and cohesive fashion.
Brian Barhart would expect no less.
Later on, and throughout the race, I imagine Mr. Barnhart was disappointed with the performances of his charges, because they became somewhat careless or indifferent about their on-track actions.
Blinky Junquiera’s rear view mirror fell off early in the race, causing a yellow lamp to be illuminated. I don’t know what the deal is with mirrors falling off of race cars. We had the same problem last year. Maybe Blinky got John Andretti’s heap from 2007. Whatever the case, all real Indy 500 rear view mirror installers need a refresher course, or they need to be fired. I am sick of this crap! I suggested Elmer’s glue, toothpicks, and drywall screws last year. Apparently, my handyman advice was not heeded. Do I have to do everything?
Sara O’Gara spun out during this yellow period. She was going slow and weaving dangerously and irresponsibly and lost control and had to be towed in for consultation and remedial real Indy racing advisement. I’m not so sure she took this corrective action to heart. More on this situation later as the race developed…
Booby’s son, GrahamCracker Rahal, (GCR), made the next wrong mistake at Indy. Apparently, he no longer had any interest in real Indy 500 racing competition, so he violently slapped the 4th Turn wall right in front of me. I bet GCR has some kinda ingrained anger towards his dad, or something, so he thought he’d show Dad a thing or two and get back at him for all the discipline and stern tongue lashings received through the formative years. Maybe. If GCR can rid himself of his pent-up rage for his dad, I bet he will become a fine Indy racer. That’s what I think.
Next to raise some singed eyebrows was AJ the 4th. I think AJ the 4th might be a pyromaniac. He seems intent on setting his fast and shiny Indy racers ablaze and causing incalculable water and smoke damage. His car burned while being serviced in the pits, and AJ the 4th was treated to a water and foam shower for his efforts. If AJ the 4th wanted to take a luxurious bubble bath, he should have taken it before the race, not during. Maybe that’s why AJ the 4th was so slow and in everybody’s way during the race. Perhaps he was so relaxed and numb from his pseudo hot tub experience that he no longer cared about true and real Indy racing competition. Who’s to say for sure? Certainly not me.
Mad Dog Martin Roth made a spectacular exit to the Indy 500 by crunching the 4th Turn barrier in front of me as well. Maybe he had consumed all of his talent or desire for Indy 500 participation…I couldn’t say. Or, maybe he was tired of running in last place all day, and wanted to focus all of his team’s efforts on John Andretti. Yes. I bet that’s it! Martin was being a thoughtful and caring team owner. I’m sure John appreciates your loving kindness, Martin! It was a touching gesture on your part, and it made me openly weep, but I bet Helio “TwinkleToes” Castroneves would beg to differ, because he ran over a bunch of the bits and pieces of your shattered racer and had to pit to fix all the damage. I bet Helio wanted to throat-punch Martin! That would be something I would like to see, because it would be dramatic, and Indy is all about drama.
Soon, Jimmy Camaro exhausted his supplies of skill and concern about Indy 500 competition. When one decides to quit the Indy 500, one should do so in spectacular fashion. Jimmy knows this because he has read the memo in its entirety, and he follows directions. Jimmy hit the wall twice for good effect, and distributed countless shards and bits of his racer throughout Turns 1 and 2. Nobody likes a quitter, Jimmy, but all real Indy racing fans have duly noted your thoroughness, pickiness, and attention to detail. We will be watching you closely in the future, young man!
My pick to win the Indy 500, Tony Kanaan, performed as I expected. He charged to the front and was fast because he is skilled and daring and unafraid to sacrifice down force for speed. Unfortunately, Tony is not only talented, but he is also a nice guy, and nice guys rarely finish first at Indy, or anywhere else for that matter. Entering Turn 3, Tony was being a nice guy to his little buddy, Margo Andretti. Tony drove up high, a little too high, to let his little buddy Margo charge through the turn. Tony got into the marbles and, subsequently, into the wall. As Tony spun helplessly out of control in the short chute, he was viciously T-boned by Sara O’Gara, putting them both out of the race, proving my assertion that nice guys don’t finish at Indy.
Later, Tony blamed his little buddy Margo for being dumb and careless and reckless. I don’t really see it that way, but maybe Tony ain’t so nice after all. But, then again, Tony was shown after the race with his infant son, saying his son and family are really all that matter and that he wasn’t going to be mad and sad because he didn’t win the Indy 500. I am so confused. Maybe it’s that duality-of-life, Jungian-thing I can’t understand.
Lots of times, when things are slow at Indy, drivers will zig-zag to keep their tires clean and warm and happy. It is important for all real Indy racers to know the proper procedure for performing this delicate maneuver. One is supposed to zig, then zag. This action is executed by turning the steering wheel left, then right, or vice versa, depending on track conditions and room availability. I think some drivers need a remedial training course in the art and execution of the zig-zag, because I’ve seen drivers zig-zig, or zag-zag, in the past. This wrong mistake can cause a heinous racing incident, and I cite Jeff Simians as an example. He improperly executed the afore-mention maneuver, and hit the outside wall on the front straight during a yellow period. The resultant crash sent him careening across the track into the inside wall, ending his day. I bet Jeff is feeling sheepish and a little embarrassed right about now, and he probably doesn’t appreciate me pointing all this stuff out. I care about you, Jeff, and I want you to be aware of all racing intricacies which will help make you an Indy legend. I feel it is my duty. I hope you understand. Stop monkeying around and get with the program!
Justin Wilson departed this year’s Indy 500 by spinning and backing his rig into the fence between Turns 1 and 2. Maybe he was thinking about food and how great a ¼ Pounder with Cheese would taste. He probably forgot to eat a hearty breakfast race morning, and his rumbling tummy distracted him. I know how he feels. Sometimes I don’t want to take the time to eat because I have many important and earth-shattering things to do. Later, though, I regret not eating because I feel angry and weak from lack of food. Next year, I bet Justin will consume a big plate of biscuits ‘n’ gravy before the race from one of the many fine food vendors available at IMS. That’s what I would recommend.
Alex Lloyd helped to illustrate an important real Indy racing lesson to my son. I tell my boy to always be looking up the track, no matter where you are, in the event talent levels run low or somebody drives their rig in an irresponsible manner. I say this because one never knows when a race car, or parts of it, will come flying towards you, and one must know the appropriate time to duck and cover! Alex had an intimate encounter with the 4th Turn concrete, directly in front of us. The impact sent his racer spinning into the pits and into the pit lane wall, destroying expensive laser radar speed detecting instruments. Luckily, pit lane in that area was empty and there were no inattentive persons injured in this wild melee. My son is smart and is able to put 2 and 2 together, so, he nodded in total agreement with me and marveled at my age-induced wisdom. I am amazing, bordering on spectacular, and I am a good dad. Maybe.
Milk ‘n’ Donuts was in the way and slow all day and spun and hit Buddy Lazier. What a surprise! After a stellar qualifying run, I expected more from her. So did Hugo Chavez. I hope Hugo doesn’t send a hit squad out looking to get some payback. That would be unfortunate for real Indy racing enthusiasts the world over. Maybe.
The next heinous racing incident I will describe will be in all the papers and the intardnets for the next one thousand years! Late in the race, Danica Hospenthal was running in the Top Ten but complaining of a slow and excrement-like racing unit. She and most of the field pitted at the same time during a caution time-out. Her crack crew completed their duties in stellar fashion, and she was sent on her way. Just ahead of her, Ryan Briscoe was ordered to leave his pit stall by Roger Penske. Ryan hammered his throttle, fishtailed wide into the pit lane, and collided with Mrs. Hospenthal, causing irreparable damage to both cars!
Steaming with rage and fury, Mrs. Hospenthal exited her battered racer and stomped towards Briscoe’s pit. I bet she was looking to get her a piece of Briscoe or Roger Penske, and wanted to curb-stomp whoever was responsible for ruining her strong 7th place finish. That’s what I think.
Mrs. Hospenthal had to be physically restrained by a huge and burly undercover Indy Racing security dude, and was sent off in the other direction, running over innocent bystanders and photographers in a dreadful manner!
This author's sidebar commentary:
Briscoe said it wasn’t his fault, and that he and Danica both have brakes which will work sufficiently in these types of situations. I don’t really see it that way. I think Briscoe has already established a pattern of dubious on-track behavior which will most likely get him fired from Teamster Penske. This latest incident only adds to that record. It wasn’t Mrs. Hospenthal’s fault, but I don’t take Roger Penske seriously when he says it was his fault because he told Briscoe to go. I mean, what’s Roger going to do? Fire himself? I doubt it. Briscoe will be the sacrificial lamb for this incident because he slid way wide into the pit lane.
Bye bye, Briscoe! I know a trucking company that might have an opening or two soon. I just hope that opening isn’t because I got fired too!
That’s what I think.
The balance of the race held no surprises, and Scott Dixon, in one of the red cars, won going away. Congratulations and well done Scott! You are now an Indy 500 Champion and real racing legend!
The Indianapolis 500 is cool and fun and exciting to watch. You should all try it sometime, and then maybe you’ll believe the stuff I’m saying here now.
Probably.
I have been away from computers and stuff for a few days, roaming the streets near the Indianapolis Motor Speedway and taking in all the sights and sounds and smells and puddles of curdled hurl.
The Night-Before-The-Race activities on Georgetown Road are a sight to behold…many young and dumb and drunk people with no earthly idea about real and shiny and fast Indy car racing, looking to hook up. Maybe.
A little tip for those of you who attend such events….do not bring your hawt girlfriend to Night-Before-The-Race alcohol consumption contests, then get irate when she is asked to display her substantial breast assemblies.
I spent some quality time at the 2008 version of Camp ‘n’ Brew and met wonderful and real Indy racing fans who know what it all means…a first-class setup and top-notch people. I heartily endorse and recommend C&B.
Here are some C&B derelicts…
Race Day was cool and fun and exciting, and it was a chance to teach many valuable lessons to my oldest son, who is 14.
We saw an energetic fan consuming alarming amounts of beer using a system of plastic tubing and a large funnel. I explained to my boy that this was the most efficient way in which one could pour the largest amount of beer down one’s gullet in the shortest amount of time. I told my son that this was what was known as a beer bong. I also pointed out that this was also the quickest way in which one could induce projectile vomiting, and that I had never personally done a beer bong because I enjoy the taste of beer and I have always felt that I drank it fast enough directly from factory approved containers.
Yes. Indy can be an educational tool to enlighten our youth of today.
On race day we arrived early to our seats in J Stand, where all the coolest and real Indy race fans sit, because we have issues and we did not want to miss any of the opening ceremonies and drama.
However, I believe IMS needs to improve accommodations in J Stand. Even though I have a skinny arse, most Americans do not, and I find the seats in J Stand are much too close together. We were packed like a can of pickled fishes in J Stand, and it is extremely uncomfortable and difficult to get up and go pee, or something, without crushing your neighbors’ feet and munchie supplies. Plus, there is no place in J Stand to stash your regulation sized coolers, as there is no room under the narrow seats. This is all due to faulty design…probably by a malingering Purdue engineering student.
I am getting old and grumpy. Maybe.
We saw Slash and a Medal of Honor recipient. They were the coolest of all the celebrities. The rest of them I neither knew nor cared about, because I don’t watch much stupid TV.
Mrs. Brady and Gomer were in fine form and sang with much gusto.
Julie Huff sang the National Anthem in an irritating manner.
She tried to ghetto it up, or something, and made me snarl and wince.
National Anthem singers should just sing the song and not put a lot of personal touches to it. If I want to hear your personal touches, I’ll buy your highly over-rated, bad-pop-music-version-of-country-music CD.
Stick to dancing, Julie, but I won’t watch that either.
The Right Reverand ArchBishop of Canterbury O'Meara gave the prayer of the day. It was pretty cool until he had to bring in the politics of open wheel racing into the mix. More personal touches, I guess. Some people, even a man of the cloth, can’t help ad-libbing. We all gotta have our moment in the sun. Kinda.
The best part of the opening ceremonies, and one which wasn’t ruined by adding personal touches, was the playing of Taps by a lone bugler, Sgt. Byron Bartosh of the Indiana National Guard.
It is at this moment when one should shed a quiet tear and be thankful and a little sad all at the same time. I know I was.
Sgt. Bartosh knows how to play his bugle, knows what Indy and Memorial Day mean, and knows how to be prudent and proper and reverent.
I salute Sgt. Byron Bartosh!
Next, the balloons went up, and I thought I was going to see a heinous flying incident when an annoying and ever-present camera helicopter almost collided with the display of airborne latex, helium-filled celebratory devices.
Luckily, this did not occur.
The start of the race was relatively orderly, and the field of 33 fast and shiny Indy racers hurled through Turn One in a safe and cohesive fashion.
Brian Barhart would expect no less.
Later on, and throughout the race, I imagine Mr. Barnhart was disappointed with the performances of his charges, because they became somewhat careless or indifferent about their on-track actions.
Blinky Junquiera’s rear view mirror fell off early in the race, causing a yellow lamp to be illuminated. I don’t know what the deal is with mirrors falling off of race cars. We had the same problem last year. Maybe Blinky got John Andretti’s heap from 2007. Whatever the case, all real Indy 500 rear view mirror installers need a refresher course, or they need to be fired. I am sick of this crap! I suggested Elmer’s glue, toothpicks, and drywall screws last year. Apparently, my handyman advice was not heeded. Do I have to do everything?
Sara O’Gara spun out during this yellow period. She was going slow and weaving dangerously and irresponsibly and lost control and had to be towed in for consultation and remedial real Indy racing advisement. I’m not so sure she took this corrective action to heart. More on this situation later as the race developed…
Booby’s son, GrahamCracker Rahal, (GCR), made the next wrong mistake at Indy. Apparently, he no longer had any interest in real Indy 500 racing competition, so he violently slapped the 4th Turn wall right in front of me. I bet GCR has some kinda ingrained anger towards his dad, or something, so he thought he’d show Dad a thing or two and get back at him for all the discipline and stern tongue lashings received through the formative years. Maybe. If GCR can rid himself of his pent-up rage for his dad, I bet he will become a fine Indy racer. That’s what I think.
Next to raise some singed eyebrows was AJ the 4th. I think AJ the 4th might be a pyromaniac. He seems intent on setting his fast and shiny Indy racers ablaze and causing incalculable water and smoke damage. His car burned while being serviced in the pits, and AJ the 4th was treated to a water and foam shower for his efforts. If AJ the 4th wanted to take a luxurious bubble bath, he should have taken it before the race, not during. Maybe that’s why AJ the 4th was so slow and in everybody’s way during the race. Perhaps he was so relaxed and numb from his pseudo hot tub experience that he no longer cared about true and real Indy racing competition. Who’s to say for sure? Certainly not me.
Mad Dog Martin Roth made a spectacular exit to the Indy 500 by crunching the 4th Turn barrier in front of me as well. Maybe he had consumed all of his talent or desire for Indy 500 participation…I couldn’t say. Or, maybe he was tired of running in last place all day, and wanted to focus all of his team’s efforts on John Andretti. Yes. I bet that’s it! Martin was being a thoughtful and caring team owner. I’m sure John appreciates your loving kindness, Martin! It was a touching gesture on your part, and it made me openly weep, but I bet Helio “TwinkleToes” Castroneves would beg to differ, because he ran over a bunch of the bits and pieces of your shattered racer and had to pit to fix all the damage. I bet Helio wanted to throat-punch Martin! That would be something I would like to see, because it would be dramatic, and Indy is all about drama.
Soon, Jimmy Camaro exhausted his supplies of skill and concern about Indy 500 competition. When one decides to quit the Indy 500, one should do so in spectacular fashion. Jimmy knows this because he has read the memo in its entirety, and he follows directions. Jimmy hit the wall twice for good effect, and distributed countless shards and bits of his racer throughout Turns 1 and 2. Nobody likes a quitter, Jimmy, but all real Indy racing fans have duly noted your thoroughness, pickiness, and attention to detail. We will be watching you closely in the future, young man!
My pick to win the Indy 500, Tony Kanaan, performed as I expected. He charged to the front and was fast because he is skilled and daring and unafraid to sacrifice down force for speed. Unfortunately, Tony is not only talented, but he is also a nice guy, and nice guys rarely finish first at Indy, or anywhere else for that matter. Entering Turn 3, Tony was being a nice guy to his little buddy, Margo Andretti. Tony drove up high, a little too high, to let his little buddy Margo charge through the turn. Tony got into the marbles and, subsequently, into the wall. As Tony spun helplessly out of control in the short chute, he was viciously T-boned by Sara O’Gara, putting them both out of the race, proving my assertion that nice guys don’t finish at Indy.
Later, Tony blamed his little buddy Margo for being dumb and careless and reckless. I don’t really see it that way, but maybe Tony ain’t so nice after all. But, then again, Tony was shown after the race with his infant son, saying his son and family are really all that matter and that he wasn’t going to be mad and sad because he didn’t win the Indy 500. I am so confused. Maybe it’s that duality-of-life, Jungian-thing I can’t understand.
Lots of times, when things are slow at Indy, drivers will zig-zag to keep their tires clean and warm and happy. It is important for all real Indy racers to know the proper procedure for performing this delicate maneuver. One is supposed to zig, then zag. This action is executed by turning the steering wheel left, then right, or vice versa, depending on track conditions and room availability. I think some drivers need a remedial training course in the art and execution of the zig-zag, because I’ve seen drivers zig-zig, or zag-zag, in the past. This wrong mistake can cause a heinous racing incident, and I cite Jeff Simians as an example. He improperly executed the afore-mention maneuver, and hit the outside wall on the front straight during a yellow period. The resultant crash sent him careening across the track into the inside wall, ending his day. I bet Jeff is feeling sheepish and a little embarrassed right about now, and he probably doesn’t appreciate me pointing all this stuff out. I care about you, Jeff, and I want you to be aware of all racing intricacies which will help make you an Indy legend. I feel it is my duty. I hope you understand. Stop monkeying around and get with the program!
Justin Wilson departed this year’s Indy 500 by spinning and backing his rig into the fence between Turns 1 and 2. Maybe he was thinking about food and how great a ¼ Pounder with Cheese would taste. He probably forgot to eat a hearty breakfast race morning, and his rumbling tummy distracted him. I know how he feels. Sometimes I don’t want to take the time to eat because I have many important and earth-shattering things to do. Later, though, I regret not eating because I feel angry and weak from lack of food. Next year, I bet Justin will consume a big plate of biscuits ‘n’ gravy before the race from one of the many fine food vendors available at IMS. That’s what I would recommend.
Alex Lloyd helped to illustrate an important real Indy racing lesson to my son. I tell my boy to always be looking up the track, no matter where you are, in the event talent levels run low or somebody drives their rig in an irresponsible manner. I say this because one never knows when a race car, or parts of it, will come flying towards you, and one must know the appropriate time to duck and cover! Alex had an intimate encounter with the 4th Turn concrete, directly in front of us. The impact sent his racer spinning into the pits and into the pit lane wall, destroying expensive laser radar speed detecting instruments. Luckily, pit lane in that area was empty and there were no inattentive persons injured in this wild melee. My son is smart and is able to put 2 and 2 together, so, he nodded in total agreement with me and marveled at my age-induced wisdom. I am amazing, bordering on spectacular, and I am a good dad. Maybe.
Milk ‘n’ Donuts was in the way and slow all day and spun and hit Buddy Lazier. What a surprise! After a stellar qualifying run, I expected more from her. So did Hugo Chavez. I hope Hugo doesn’t send a hit squad out looking to get some payback. That would be unfortunate for real Indy racing enthusiasts the world over. Maybe.
The next heinous racing incident I will describe will be in all the papers and the intardnets for the next one thousand years! Late in the race, Danica Hospenthal was running in the Top Ten but complaining of a slow and excrement-like racing unit. She and most of the field pitted at the same time during a caution time-out. Her crack crew completed their duties in stellar fashion, and she was sent on her way. Just ahead of her, Ryan Briscoe was ordered to leave his pit stall by Roger Penske. Ryan hammered his throttle, fishtailed wide into the pit lane, and collided with Mrs. Hospenthal, causing irreparable damage to both cars!
Steaming with rage and fury, Mrs. Hospenthal exited her battered racer and stomped towards Briscoe’s pit. I bet she was looking to get her a piece of Briscoe or Roger Penske, and wanted to curb-stomp whoever was responsible for ruining her strong 7th place finish. That’s what I think.
Mrs. Hospenthal had to be physically restrained by a huge and burly undercover Indy Racing security dude, and was sent off in the other direction, running over innocent bystanders and photographers in a dreadful manner!
This author's sidebar commentary:
Look...
I like Danica, OK? But, she ain't beatin' NO man's ass. What's she weigh...98 pounds soakin' wet? Attitude is great...God knows I've made an intardnet career out of it, but attitude alone ain't gonna get the job done when you gotta throw down either...
She can scowl and hiss and act all pissy and like she's gonna whip the entire paddock all she wants. She's a poser as far as all that's concerned, and one of these days somebody is gonna pull her punk card and she'll start some shit she can't finish and she's gonna get some of her chicklets dashed down her throat.
Maybe.
Briscoe said it wasn’t his fault, and that he and Danica both have brakes which will work sufficiently in these types of situations. I don’t really see it that way. I think Briscoe has already established a pattern of dubious on-track behavior which will most likely get him fired from Teamster Penske. This latest incident only adds to that record. It wasn’t Mrs. Hospenthal’s fault, but I don’t take Roger Penske seriously when he says it was his fault because he told Briscoe to go. I mean, what’s Roger going to do? Fire himself? I doubt it. Briscoe will be the sacrificial lamb for this incident because he slid way wide into the pit lane.
Bye bye, Briscoe! I know a trucking company that might have an opening or two soon. I just hope that opening isn’t because I got fired too!
That’s what I think.
The balance of the race held no surprises, and Scott Dixon, in one of the red cars, won going away. Congratulations and well done Scott! You are now an Indy 500 Champion and real racing legend!
The Indianapolis 500 is cool and fun and exciting to watch. You should all try it sometime, and then maybe you’ll believe the stuff I’m saying here now.
Probably.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Part 46- My 2008 Magnificent Colossal Indy 500 Photo Blog Thing: Carb Day 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Part 45- My 2008 Magnificent Colossal Indy 500 Photo Blog Thing: Various Drunken Musings...
Oriol Servia's Angie's List Special...
How long has it been since we had a Special car in the field?
A long time, I would guess.
Maybe I should ask David Donaldson, or something.
Maybe.
I hung out by the KV garages today and eavesdropped on Jammy Billson as he talked to some fans.
He seems pretty cool.
I'd like to have beers with him.
He talked about getting turbo chargers and getting real sponsor like Valvoline and stuff, and acted like he was enthusiastic about the future of real open wheeled racing here in the US.
I am almost like a spy/insider or something.
Jammy needs milk.
Brand spankin' new half-shafts/hub assemblies for the Newman/Haas/Lanigan/McDonalds rig...
At least, I hope they're brand-new, and not rebuilt bull-crap from AutoZone, or something.
Autographed helmets at the Impact store in Gasoline Alley...
If you look closely, you will see what appears to be Shrillary Klinton's signature on these brain buckets.
I would not wear head protection with her autograph scrawled on it, because it would probably make me turn too far to the left and cause a heinous on-track racing incident.
Impact Racing is a company that makes safety equipment like helmets and fire suits and belts and stuff. It is owned by Bill Simpson, maybe, an Indy Racing legend.
Impact Racing used to be called Simpson, but when Dale Earnhardt died in his shunt at Daytona, some dumb people thought faulty Simpson equipment was the culprit, but Simpson products were not the reason Dale died.
One of the reasons Dale died was because he didn't use Simpson products properly.
In spite of this fact, Simpson got a lot of heat, and he went out of business and restarted it and called it by a different name so that the unreasonable Earnhardt fans wouldn't shoot him or torch his house.
Maybe.
This is an insider's look deep inside the Indiana Oxygen/Lincoln Welders garage on Gasoline Alley.
It is cool too!
This is where real Indy race teams can get some welding done on their fast and shiny racers if they need it.
It looks kinda old school and stuff. One can almost see a laydown Epperly in there with greasy mechanics pouring over it getting it ready for race day. Maybe.
I got a cool Lincoln Welders decal there from the nice folks. I put the decal on my garage beer fridge, because that's what cool and real Indy fans and pseudo-wrenches do.
This is my garage beer fridge...
Every guy who has a garage at his house should have a beer fridge. It is the proper and prudent thing to do, because then you don't have to go in the house with dirty hands every time you need a beer.
Garage beer fridges are cool and should be decorated with stickers and decals and magnets of various and differing and manly things.
Take notes if you need to...
How long has it been since we had a Special car in the field?
A long time, I would guess.
Maybe I should ask David Donaldson, or something.
Maybe.
I hung out by the KV garages today and eavesdropped on Jammy Billson as he talked to some fans.
He seems pretty cool.
I'd like to have beers with him.
He talked about getting turbo chargers and getting real sponsor like Valvoline and stuff, and acted like he was enthusiastic about the future of real open wheeled racing here in the US.
I am almost like a spy/insider or something.
Jammy needs milk.
Brand spankin' new half-shafts/hub assemblies for the Newman/Haas/Lanigan/McDonalds rig...
At least, I hope they're brand-new, and not rebuilt bull-crap from AutoZone, or something.
Autographed helmets at the Impact store in Gasoline Alley...
If you look closely, you will see what appears to be Shrillary Klinton's signature on these brain buckets.
I would not wear head protection with her autograph scrawled on it, because it would probably make me turn too far to the left and cause a heinous on-track racing incident.
Impact Racing is a company that makes safety equipment like helmets and fire suits and belts and stuff. It is owned by Bill Simpson, maybe, an Indy Racing legend.
Impact Racing used to be called Simpson, but when Dale Earnhardt died in his shunt at Daytona, some dumb people thought faulty Simpson equipment was the culprit, but Simpson products were not the reason Dale died.
One of the reasons Dale died was because he didn't use Simpson products properly.
In spite of this fact, Simpson got a lot of heat, and he went out of business and restarted it and called it by a different name so that the unreasonable Earnhardt fans wouldn't shoot him or torch his house.
Maybe.
This is an insider's look deep inside the Indiana Oxygen/Lincoln Welders garage on Gasoline Alley.
It is cool too!
This is where real Indy race teams can get some welding done on their fast and shiny racers if they need it.
It looks kinda old school and stuff. One can almost see a laydown Epperly in there with greasy mechanics pouring over it getting it ready for race day. Maybe.
I got a cool Lincoln Welders decal there from the nice folks. I put the decal on my garage beer fridge, because that's what cool and real Indy fans and pseudo-wrenches do.
This is my garage beer fridge...
Every guy who has a garage at his house should have a beer fridge. It is the proper and prudent thing to do, because then you don't have to go in the house with dirty hands every time you need a beer.
Garage beer fridges are cool and should be decorated with stickers and decals and magnets of various and differing and manly things.
Take notes if you need to...
Part 43- My 2008 Magnificent Colossal Indy 500 Photo Blog Thing: Tour Through The United Kingdom Continues...
Andover, Hampshire has made an appearance! A hearty hello from across the pond, mates! Happy to make your acquaintance!
Andover, Hampshire was infamous back in the 1800’s for their deplorable workhouses, and there is nothing even remotely amusing about any of it.
I would suggest you Google The Andover Workhouse Scandal for additional details.
In 1955, the Andover Town Council decided they wanted to fluoridate the water supply to make teeth healthier. For some reason, the public outcry was massive, and the idea was dropped, but not before the Andoverians sacked a bunch of their politicians in the following election.
I think those politicians were right and forward thinking. Maybe.
I mean…right or wrong, we Americans like to make fun of the Brits and their rotten teeth.
Like most urban legends and myths, oftentimes there rings a bit of truth.
Who’s to say that if the Andoverians had went ahead with their leaders’ plans to treat the water, there wouldn’t be any gnarly British teeth jokes floating about?
I couldn’t say, but one thing’s for sure. The Austin Powers movies would be a lot shorter.
I bet Dan Wheldon is all for flouride.
That’s what I think.
During WW2, Andover was the site of an American fighter squadron base. I imagine this led to many dashing Yank fighter pilots dating and marrying beautiful English girls.
This activity probably also led many disgruntled Tommies to get mad and start bar fights. After all, one of the sayings of the Squaddie of the day about Americans was, “They’re overpaid, oversexed, and over here!”
Anyhoo…after the war, the airfield was almost paved over by Tescos, which is like Walmart here.
Tescos wanted to build a big box-store warehouse monstrosity on the site, but, once again, the people of Andover had a hissy fit, and kinda threw a wrench in the works.
The Andoverians didn’t want fat disgusting mothers in stretchy pants and dirty house slippers and their dirty and foul brats defiling the sacred ground of their airport.
So, the new Tescos facility is sorta in limbo right now. Kinda.
Probably the most famous persons to come out of Andover are The Troggs. They are world-renown for the following song:
Yes.
Andover, Hampshire makes everything groovy!
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Part 42- My 2008 Magnificent Colossal Indy 500 Photo Blog Thing: A Tour Through The United Kingdom (continued)
A Tour Through The United Kingdom (continued)
Salisbury, Wiltshire is another UK location showing interest in light-hearted and real Indy racing related banter! I welcome you, Salisbury, Wiltshire, to my little piece of intardnets tomfoolery. It is my sincere hope that you enjoy your stay!
Salisbury, Wiltshire is famous for many things.
They have a neat and clean copy of the Magnum Charta, which is an earth-shattering document from the 13th century. They made this copy with the world’s first Xerox machine. It was powered by coal.
Anyhoo…the Magnum Charta kinda spelled out groovy stuff like liberty and rights and other stuff, which all free and cool nations enjoy today.
Also near Salisbury, Wiltshire is Stonedhenge, which is a prehistoric collection of crudely cut limestone pillars and blocks clumsily arrayed in kinda like a tumbled down circle, or something.
Stonedhenge might be something like a clock or a sundial, or, it may be a device aliens used as a type of homing beacon to direct invasion fleets to our planet.
I bet it was just something the prehistoric Saliburians threw together as a joke one evening after an all-night pub-crawl to make future peoples wonder what the hell they were doing!
That’s what I think.
Salisbury, Wiltshire is also renown for the fact that William Golding was a teacher there for a while. Golding wrote Lord of the Flies, which is a cool book about kids getting marooned on a desert island with no adults around and running amok and killing pigs and each other with spears.
This book always appealed to me for some reason. Maybe it’s because I’m demented and sick. Who’s to say? Certainly not me.
The guy who played C3PO in Star Wars, Anthony Daniels, is from Salisbury, Wiltshire.
Not a big deal, I guess, unless you are a Star Wars geek. I mean, I’m sure he made a boat-load of money, but I don’t think it’s really all that cool to limp around in a gilded plastic spaceman outfit which is in need of repair, constantly having arguments with another robot who squeaks and pops like an insane Hoover vacuum cleaner on LSD.
Legend has it that Churchill and Eisenhower met at a pub in Salisbury, Wiltshire to discuss plans for D-Day…proving once again that some of the best ideas are born of talking BS in a pub over a beer.
Apparently, Salisbury, Wiltshire has an alarming number of pubs. This fact makes me want to visit even more. I don’t imagine there is anything more cooler on the face of the planet than true and real British/English pubs.
There’s this one pub in Salisbury, Wiltshire called The Haunch of Venison. That’s a far-out name for a pub. The Brits name their pubs more better than we do. You won’t see a Fred’s Bar in England, I bet.
Anyhoo… The Haunch of Venison is an ancient pub from the 1300s, and way back a long time ago a card cheater got his hand lopped off for not playing by the rules. They still have the dried up and crusty and crispy hand on display at the pub!
You’d better play nice while in Salisbury, Wiltshire, apparently.
Don’t worry, Salisbury, Wiltshire! If I ever come to visit, I will respect your customs and courtesies.
I am a good guest.
Pretty much.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Part 41- My 2008 Magnificent Colossal Indy 500 Photo Blog Thing: A Tour Through The United Kingdom
Seeing as I'm bored, I thought I'd activate my super-secret spy satellite and see what I could see and who was clicking on my intardwebs stupidty.
Tonight, I'll concentrate on my dear friends in the United Kingdom, and I will dissect and describe all of their fair cities which have shown an interest in real Indy racing.
But first, a quick general overview...
Back in olden times, it used to be said that "the sun never sets on the British Empire."
This didn't mean that somehow the Brits were able to stop the sun in its tracks. Hell, if they were able to do that, they would have made it shine on Britain itself a little more and maybe then it wouldn't rain so much there.
Anyhoo...This grand statement could be said because Britain had a kick-ass and huge navy, and they set out to pillage and burn and conquer and civilize the whole world....and they pretty much did too!
Later on, they decided a world-encompassing empire was a little too bulky and difficult and expensive to manage, so they outsourced and downsized to something a little easier to handle.
Then, still later, the USA decided it would like to have a huge conglomerate world encompassing empire. A funny thing happened kinda recently, and the USA has started giving some serious thought to downsizing and outsourcing as well.
The Brits sometimes say the USA copies them and their really cool stuff and ideas, or arrives late to a party, or learns lessons which the UK had already learned a long time ago.
Maybe there's something to all of that. Who's to say for sure? Certainly not me.
Here are some of the UK places which I will tell you about now.
1. Sheffield is an industrial city which has stopped by for a visit! Hello mates! I am glad you are here! Sheffield is also famous for its coal mines. Coal mining is not something I would want to do, because I am a girl when it comes to really dangerous work. I salute brave Sheffield coal miners!
At one time back in the 1930s, the pollution got so bad from the industries in Sheffield that George Orwell said Sheffield was the "ugliest town in the Old World."
That's a mean thing to say. I would never say that. I bet the Sheffieldians would kick the crap outta Georgie if he said that to their faces! Who the hell is Orwell anyways? He wrote Animal Farm and 1984, so you know he was doped up and high on something...
Sheffield has cleaned things up and made it all tidy and stuff now, I bet, so Orwell can go Eff himself!
During WW2, Sheffield made lots of ammo and steel for the war effort, and this made the Germans mad. Consequently, the Germans sent over eleventy billion Junkers and Heinkel bombers and blew the snot outta Sheffield...killing a bunch of innocent and unarmed civilians.
Sheffield got total revenge many years later by having a starring role in the movie The Full Monty.
The Full Monty was great cinema, even though it featured many scenes of suggested full frontal male nudity, because if was chock full of British humour.
Germans don't understand humour, especially British humour, so the Germans probably scratched holes in their box heads trying to figure that movie out.
Maybe.
2. Doncaster is also famous for factories and steel-making and coal mining. Hello Doncaster! I will have many pints with you if and when I ever visit!
Doncaster is also responsible for building steam powered choo-choos like the Flying Scotsman...an ultra-cool beautifully maintained steam locomotive from back in the old days.
Anybody who builds steam engines is OK in my book, because steam engines are just about the most awesome things ever created by human hands. This fact cannot be argued, not even by the most knowledgeable and brilliant of solicitors, so don't even try it with me.
Doncaster is also famous for its involvement with aviation and the Royal Air Force.
The Royal Air Force is cool because they took on the surly Germans in the early days of WW2 and pretty much handed the Jerries their asses.
The RAF had a base at Doncaster and helped defend England during the Battle of Britain. Later, when the Germans pussed out and only sent over unmanned robot V-1 Buzzbombs to terrorize Britain, planes and pilots from Doncaster would use their wingtips to knock the Buzzbombs off course.
That's some pretty ballsy flying if you ask me.
I tip a pint in your honour, Doncaster!
Tonight, I'll concentrate on my dear friends in the United Kingdom, and I will dissect and describe all of their fair cities which have shown an interest in real Indy racing.
But first, a quick general overview...
Back in olden times, it used to be said that "the sun never sets on the British Empire."
This didn't mean that somehow the Brits were able to stop the sun in its tracks. Hell, if they were able to do that, they would have made it shine on Britain itself a little more and maybe then it wouldn't rain so much there.
Anyhoo...This grand statement could be said because Britain had a kick-ass and huge navy, and they set out to pillage and burn and conquer and civilize the whole world....and they pretty much did too!
Later on, they decided a world-encompassing empire was a little too bulky and difficult and expensive to manage, so they outsourced and downsized to something a little easier to handle.
Then, still later, the USA decided it would like to have a huge conglomerate world encompassing empire. A funny thing happened kinda recently, and the USA has started giving some serious thought to downsizing and outsourcing as well.
The Brits sometimes say the USA copies them and their really cool stuff and ideas, or arrives late to a party, or learns lessons which the UK had already learned a long time ago.
Maybe there's something to all of that. Who's to say for sure? Certainly not me.
Here are some of the UK places which I will tell you about now.
1. Sheffield is an industrial city which has stopped by for a visit! Hello mates! I am glad you are here! Sheffield is also famous for its coal mines. Coal mining is not something I would want to do, because I am a girl when it comes to really dangerous work. I salute brave Sheffield coal miners!
At one time back in the 1930s, the pollution got so bad from the industries in Sheffield that George Orwell said Sheffield was the "ugliest town in the Old World."
That's a mean thing to say. I would never say that. I bet the Sheffieldians would kick the crap outta Georgie if he said that to their faces! Who the hell is Orwell anyways? He wrote Animal Farm and 1984, so you know he was doped up and high on something...
Sheffield has cleaned things up and made it all tidy and stuff now, I bet, so Orwell can go Eff himself!
During WW2, Sheffield made lots of ammo and steel for the war effort, and this made the Germans mad. Consequently, the Germans sent over eleventy billion Junkers and Heinkel bombers and blew the snot outta Sheffield...killing a bunch of innocent and unarmed civilians.
Sheffield got total revenge many years later by having a starring role in the movie The Full Monty.
The Full Monty was great cinema, even though it featured many scenes of suggested full frontal male nudity, because if was chock full of British humour.
Germans don't understand humour, especially British humour, so the Germans probably scratched holes in their box heads trying to figure that movie out.
Maybe.
2. Doncaster is also famous for factories and steel-making and coal mining. Hello Doncaster! I will have many pints with you if and when I ever visit!
Doncaster is also responsible for building steam powered choo-choos like the Flying Scotsman...an ultra-cool beautifully maintained steam locomotive from back in the old days.
Anybody who builds steam engines is OK in my book, because steam engines are just about the most awesome things ever created by human hands. This fact cannot be argued, not even by the most knowledgeable and brilliant of solicitors, so don't even try it with me.
Doncaster is also famous for its involvement with aviation and the Royal Air Force.
The Royal Air Force is cool because they took on the surly Germans in the early days of WW2 and pretty much handed the Jerries their asses.
The RAF had a base at Doncaster and helped defend England during the Battle of Britain. Later, when the Germans pussed out and only sent over unmanned robot V-1 Buzzbombs to terrorize Britain, planes and pilots from Doncaster would use their wingtips to knock the Buzzbombs off course.
That's some pretty ballsy flying if you ask me.
I tip a pint in your honour, Doncaster!
(To be continued)
Monday, May 19, 2008
Part 40- My 2008 Magnificent Colossal Indy 500 Photo Blog Thing: Death Pimps, Max, Buddy, and Mario
I spent the last couple of days at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway in various grandstands watching race cars and not trying real hard to get material for dumb blog stuff.
I will not apologize for it either, and there's nobody big enough to make me!
It has been great fun talking real Indy racing with insiders and true fans from TrackForum and other places and drinking beer and telling lies and looking at chicks.
I will now narrate to you various racing-related and unrelated things in a jumbled rambling series of words to help describe my last two days track side.
Here are a couple of track bums and derelicts laughing and acting goofy.
Today was Armed Forces Day, so I broke out all my war-mongering U.S Marine gear and went to the track to salute all of George W. Bush's Death Pimps.
I saw a CH-53 helicopter. It is cool too.
At the end of Bump Day, it took off and flared out and did a low pass over Gasoline Alley and scared everyone and made their mouths get all gaped open and stuff.
I was kinda nervous too, because I'm sorta like a military insider, or something, and I know how sometimes these things can plummet to the ground for no apparent reason.
Anyhoo...It was awesome and the kind of thing that makes one glad they are on our side.
It was also the kind of thing that will often make a young man's naughty bits feel kinda tingly and make him want to enlist and take part in such virile activities like scaring nasty civilians with your high-powered heavy-lift military helicopter.
It's a good thing I'm old and broken down, because it made me want to enlist too, but, then again, I did that three times already.
It would be silly to do it again at my advanced age.
Pretty much.
This is the racer of Max Papis after it was repaired by his crack team.
Max made a wrong mistake at Indy Saturday and biffed it hard into the third turn wall.
His crew thrashed and cobbled another car together for him to drive, but they couldn't get the transmission to work right and they didn't get a chance to qualify.
They should have taken it to AAMCO Transmission Repair Shop. AAMCO could have fixed him right up and for cheap too, probably, seeing as they are a big sponsor for real Indy racing and all.
I guess the thought never crossed Max's mind, but, then again, he's not from around here so he probably didn't know where the nearest AAMCO shop was.
It's times such as these when it is pretty handy to know some of us dumb local Hoosier Gomers.
We can be useful sometimes. Maybe.
This is a hawt chick eating some ice cream.
Have you ever really sat back and closely observed an attractive lady while she eats a frozen dairy product on a stick?
I heartily recommend this activity.
It is amazing...bordering on the spectacular!
Speaking of amazing and spectacular, this is the car Buddy Lazier heroically drove to a starting position in this year's Indy 500.
See...Lazier got bumped out, then he had to try to get back in. His first attempt was horrible and shameful, so he waved it off.
All was not lost, however, and Buddy Lazier knew exactly what he needed to do.
His crack team rolled him away from the tech line and cranked all the rear wing outta the car.
Doing so will make the car faster, but it will also reduce grip and down force, making the car a veritable fast and shiny and real coffin for an unskilled driver.
Buddy hurled his rig at ridiculous speeds for four laps around the world's greatest race course and managed to cheat a certain fiery and gruesome death and bumped his way back into the field!
I salute your bravery, o great and skillful pilot of shiny and fast and real Indy racing machines!
The next guy to try to bump his way back into the field was Mario Dominguez.
He hammered Indy's concrete yesterday, and his wrong mistake forced his Pacific Coast Motorsports team to thrash in order to get him back into competition.
Dominguez's crew sorted the car out, and he was the final qualifying attempt for the day. He tried his best, but, unfortunately, Dominguez failed in spectacular fashion and went out in a blaze of glory like a white-hot supernova.
If one must fail at Indy, it is best to fail spectacularly while exhibiting extreme courage and determination like Mario Dominguez.
We raise our glasses to you, brave and real Indy racer! It's guys like you who make Indy so special. Thank you for your efforts, and we hope to see you next year.
I strolled the garage area after Bump Day had ended. I overheard a Pacific Coast Motorsports crew member talking on a cell phone to his child.
The crew member said to his child, "Don't cry, honey. He is OK. We have to be good sports and go on to the next race. Everything will be alright. We'll try again next year."
After hearing this, I told a fellow race fan standing next to me, "You hear that? That's so cool! If I wasn't such a heterosexual, I'd go up to him and give him a big kiss!"
The race fan I spoke to slowly backed away from me.
That crew guy knows what Indy means.
I departed the garage area and started the long walk back to my car.
Thinking about what had transpired the last two days, I turned and gave a look over my shoulder.
I thought to myself, "DAMN! I LOVE this place!"
I'm such a Gomer.
I know what Indy means.
I will not apologize for it either, and there's nobody big enough to make me!
It has been great fun talking real Indy racing with insiders and true fans from TrackForum and other places and drinking beer and telling lies and looking at chicks.
I will now narrate to you various racing-related and unrelated things in a jumbled rambling series of words to help describe my last two days track side.
Here are a couple of track bums and derelicts laughing and acting goofy.
Today was Armed Forces Day, so I broke out all my war-mongering U.S Marine gear and went to the track to salute all of George W. Bush's Death Pimps.
I saw a CH-53 helicopter. It is cool too.
At the end of Bump Day, it took off and flared out and did a low pass over Gasoline Alley and scared everyone and made their mouths get all gaped open and stuff.
I was kinda nervous too, because I'm sorta like a military insider, or something, and I know how sometimes these things can plummet to the ground for no apparent reason.
Anyhoo...It was awesome and the kind of thing that makes one glad they are on our side.
It was also the kind of thing that will often make a young man's naughty bits feel kinda tingly and make him want to enlist and take part in such virile activities like scaring nasty civilians with your high-powered heavy-lift military helicopter.
It's a good thing I'm old and broken down, because it made me want to enlist too, but, then again, I did that three times already.
It would be silly to do it again at my advanced age.
Pretty much.
This is the racer of Max Papis after it was repaired by his crack team.
Max made a wrong mistake at Indy Saturday and biffed it hard into the third turn wall.
His crew thrashed and cobbled another car together for him to drive, but they couldn't get the transmission to work right and they didn't get a chance to qualify.
They should have taken it to AAMCO Transmission Repair Shop. AAMCO could have fixed him right up and for cheap too, probably, seeing as they are a big sponsor for real Indy racing and all.
I guess the thought never crossed Max's mind, but, then again, he's not from around here so he probably didn't know where the nearest AAMCO shop was.
It's times such as these when it is pretty handy to know some of us dumb local Hoosier Gomers.
We can be useful sometimes. Maybe.
This is a hawt chick eating some ice cream.
Have you ever really sat back and closely observed an attractive lady while she eats a frozen dairy product on a stick?
I heartily recommend this activity.
It is amazing...bordering on the spectacular!
Speaking of amazing and spectacular, this is the car Buddy Lazier heroically drove to a starting position in this year's Indy 500.
See...Lazier got bumped out, then he had to try to get back in. His first attempt was horrible and shameful, so he waved it off.
All was not lost, however, and Buddy Lazier knew exactly what he needed to do.
His crack team rolled him away from the tech line and cranked all the rear wing outta the car.
Doing so will make the car faster, but it will also reduce grip and down force, making the car a veritable fast and shiny and real coffin for an unskilled driver.
Buddy hurled his rig at ridiculous speeds for four laps around the world's greatest race course and managed to cheat a certain fiery and gruesome death and bumped his way back into the field!
I salute your bravery, o great and skillful pilot of shiny and fast and real Indy racing machines!
The next guy to try to bump his way back into the field was Mario Dominguez.
He hammered Indy's concrete yesterday, and his wrong mistake forced his Pacific Coast Motorsports team to thrash in order to get him back into competition.
Dominguez's crew sorted the car out, and he was the final qualifying attempt for the day. He tried his best, but, unfortunately, Dominguez failed in spectacular fashion and went out in a blaze of glory like a white-hot supernova.
If one must fail at Indy, it is best to fail spectacularly while exhibiting extreme courage and determination like Mario Dominguez.
We raise our glasses to you, brave and real Indy racer! It's guys like you who make Indy so special. Thank you for your efforts, and we hope to see you next year.
I strolled the garage area after Bump Day had ended. I overheard a Pacific Coast Motorsports crew member talking on a cell phone to his child.
The crew member said to his child, "Don't cry, honey. He is OK. We have to be good sports and go on to the next race. Everything will be alright. We'll try again next year."
After hearing this, I told a fellow race fan standing next to me, "You hear that? That's so cool! If I wasn't such a heterosexual, I'd go up to him and give him a big kiss!"
The race fan I spoke to slowly backed away from me.
That crew guy knows what Indy means.
I departed the garage area and started the long walk back to my car.
Thinking about what had transpired the last two days, I turned and gave a look over my shoulder.
I thought to myself, "DAMN! I LOVE this place!"
I'm such a Gomer.
I know what Indy means.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Part 39- My 2008 Magnificent Colossal Indy 500 Photo Blog Thing: People And Things
Some delight in calling him "Blinky." That's mean, and I would never do that.
Mexico's national and real Indy racing hero, Mario Dominguez.
Dave Hamilton.
Confused and bitter...
Margo Andretti's crew having some fun with a young lady who looks a little like The Princess and keeps getting hounded for autographs...
Dangerous horseplay...
Pressing a spring onto a shock, or something. I'd never seen this done in the pits before, and it caught my eye. I'm such a dork.
Teamster Penske, immediately following Briscoe's shunt. I bet they were discussing how now they wouldn't be getting a raise this year! Maybe.
Mexico's national and real Indy racing hero, Mario Dominguez.
Dave Hamilton.
Confused and bitter...
Margo Andretti's crew having some fun with a young lady who looks a little like The Princess and keeps getting hounded for autographs...
Dangerous horseplay...
Pressing a spring onto a shock, or something. I'd never seen this done in the pits before, and it caught my eye. I'm such a dork.
Teamster Penske, immediately following Briscoe's shunt. I bet they were discussing how now they wouldn't be getting a raise this year! Maybe.
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