Monday, May 31, 2010

Part 18- My Humongous Astronomical 2010 Indy 500 Blog Mess: Pre-Race Festivities

Race day was fun and exciting and Equatorial Africa Space Shuttle Rocket Booster Hot.

I was almost dreading the uncomfortable conditions, but a true and real Indy 500 fan doesn’t bitch much, so I prepared accordingly.


I dressed my oldest son and myself in loose, baggy, and light-colored clothing.

SPF 50 sunscreen was applied liberally, and vintage wide-brimmed, Government Issued floppy boonie hats were worn.


We traveled light, with canned soda, iced tea, and bottled water.

Amazingly…for the second year in a row…no beer in the stands for me on race day due to the warm conditions, as it is neither prudent nor proper to soak oneself in alcohol on a blazing hot day.


(The fact that I had abused my body with exotic liquid alcohol substances the previous evening probably had something to do with it too.)

Good old Marine Corps hot weather/desert survival training comes in handy sometimes, and I didn’t want to pass out or make a million trips to the pisser and miss any of the pants-wetting excitement.

Icy-cold, water-soaked towels on the head and neck help keep the body core temperature down, and I never once left the grandstands for the entire duration of the race.

I’m hardcore like that.

My son and I arrived at J-Stand just in time to witness the Parade of Military Heroes.

I am pleased to report that behavior in J-Stand was as it is supposed to be this year, with no douchie anti-American comments from clueless Communist heathen sympathizers.


The only improper incident I witnessed in J-Stand was from a well-meaning but uninformed fan that yelled out, “Boogitty-Boogitty-Boogitty!”

Thankfully, I heard this only once, and I was not later forced to throat-punch this ignorant individual.

The pre-race ceremonies were OK, but seemed kinda flawed and the timing was a little off, and I bet the Indianapolis Motor Speedway audio guy gets fired for malingering.

Jewel sang the National Anthem with a pair of microphones malfunctioning, but at least her pears were out there to look at…and they were not malfunctioning at all.

IndyStar Photo

Not one little bit…

The Navy F-18s were a little late for the flyover.

Way to go, Swabbies!


Mike Young Photo

Maybe next time we’ll have some proper naval aviators do it…like US Marines in some Harriers.

That would be cool.


Then, a lone bugler played Taps.

His microphone went on the fritz too.

It would have been a good idea to have fresh batteries in the cordless mics, sorta, or, make sure your cheap Radio Shack equipment was tested properly BEFORE the Greatest Spectacle In Racing began.


Back in olden times, I was a part-time weekend radio guy making $5/ hour, so I know a little about what I’m talking about.

Maybe.


Soon, Gomer sang the Indiana National Anthem.

He was in fine form.


Then, the helium-filled celebratory devices were released, and the command to start engines was given.

For some reason, the two-seater was out there with Mark Wahlberg riding shotgun and Mike Andretti driving.

I was uninterested in this activity, and quietly wished to myself for this cheese-dickery to cease and conclude with fiery wreckage.


IndyStar Photo

I’m chock full o’ hate like that sometimes, though.


I am not impressed with Hollywood or its celebrities.

…and I am NOT sorry about it.

Jack Nicholson waved the green light.

I didn’t care about that either.


IMS Photo

Jack is a dirty old man, and troll-like in appearance.

Now that I think about it, Jack and I are similar in many ways.

Maybe he's not such a bad fella after all.


Anyhoo...Jack's a great actor, but I'd be careful about canonizing him.

He's good at pretending to be something he's not.

Big fucking deal...

In other news, Jewel is still a pretty girl.

stuff.co.nz Photo

Let’s race!

1 comment:

Feel free to comment away with your bad-ass selves.

Cursing and foul language is fine...even encouraged here. In fact, I think cussing is fucking wonderful.

Just remember...this is MY house, and I will not be insulted or maliciously messed with here.

Good-natured ribbing is cool, but if you and I don't have some kind of previous relationship, you had best mind your fucking manners or I will relegate you to the intardnets dustbin for being a cunt.

To know me is to love me.

Or something.

Maybe.