Remember those days, year ago, when I didn’t drink you? Oh sure, I hung out at the local coffee shop with my buds all the time, listening to live music or just chatting. But honestly, I was there for the fellowship. And the girls.
But not you.
That all changed on The Boat, didn’t it? Those long, grinding hours of planning, planning, and then planning. The minutes of sleep. The 1am wake ups. It was there that I discovered you in all your basically-nothing-more-than-caffeinated-tar glory.
It’s been a long road since those early days together. I’ve learned the difference between “tasty” and “by all things holy, what is this?!” I’ve followed new and trendy paths, experimenting with complex orders that involve words like “skinny” and “soy”. Yet, in the end, I’ve always come back.
You sexy, smoldering pot of magma, you.
Like a true friend, you’ve always been there for, me. Clearing the haze of too little sleep or keeping me mobile for late-night drives. You’ve helped me make critical career decisions, write new words, and avoid suicidal deer. I don’t drink as much of you as I used to, but that doesn’t change how I feel.
You don’t so much complete me as you simply make me.
For the past few years, King Snake and I have made the 8 hour trek up to Indianapolis to watch the Indy 500. It’s always a good Father/Son bonding weekend and this year we took our friend JoK. King Snake is a huge race fan having grown up watching his father serve as the flagman for their local dirt track. In a way, our jaunts up to Indy remind him of those days and, in a way, have become our own little tradition.
Tradition is part of what I love about Indy. This year was the 97th running and there are traditions that stretch back almost as far as the first race:
1) The pre-race laps with some of the previous winners (including the first winner, the 1911 Marmon Wasp).
2) A starting line-up of 33 cars.
3) Jim Neighbors singing “Back Home Again in Indiana”.
4) Florence Henderson singing “God Bless America” (although she was sick this year, so Jon McLaughlin took her place. First time since 1991 she hasn’t held the mic).
5) The playing of “Taps”. Let me tell you, few things are as moving as 400,000 people becoming absolutely silent in order to honor our fallen when this song plays.
6) The winner (this year it was Tony Kanaan!) drinking milk. Which, to be honest, is disgusting. If I’d been in the sweltering heat of a race car for 4 hours, the LAST thing I’d want in my body is a quart of dairy.
And that’s just the tip of the iceburg.
Anyway, I planned to write a long, poingant post about how traditions ground us in our past, blah blah blah. Instead, I figured I’d just toss some pictures and videos up here and let you see what our new Indy tradition is like.
How about you all? Any traditions of your own?
2013 Indy 500 Photo Diary:
French-Built Tri-Wheel circa 1896.The infamous 1911 Marmon Wasp, winner of the first Indy 500.The 1911 Marmon Wasp next to the 2011 winner driven by the late Dan Wheldon. Title: “The Balance of Speed”.1968 Autolite Lead Wedge which reached a land speed record of 138.862 mph in the Bonneville Salt Flats. That might not be all that impressive, but it IS when you consider the Lead Wedge was powered by 20 Autolite High Performance auto batteries.1970 Harley-Davidson Streamliner reached 265.492 mph at the Bonneville Salt Flats as a MOTORCYCLE!1965 Spirit of America Sonic 1 which reaced a record speed of 608.201 mph at the Bonneville Salt Flats.1950 Cummings Diesel powered by a Roots-type supercharger. Hehehe.Team Misfit with the Borg-Warner Trophy.Short track racing the night before. They got one race in before the rain closed down the track. Still, the sight of the drivers in their cars with umbrellas over the cockpit is pretty hilarious.One of the smaller lines on race day. 400,000 is a LOT of fans.Just some of the celebrities on hand for the race.Pre-Race National Anthem.Flyover by WWII restoration group.Pre-Race festivities.Another tradition: Releasing the balloons!
