Saturday
10:30 - Early to bed. Need to get a good night's rest.
Sunday
4am - Baby wakes up and executes the "See if Papa Wakes Up and Comes and Gets Me Test" to make sure that I will still attend to her if she needs me.
6:30 am - Baby decides that she should execute the same test again to see if the results are successful. I decide to get up and shower, dress, eat, and get my things together.
9:30 - I head out the door on they way to pick up my mother.
10:30 - arrive at my mother's house. This whole race thing is actually a birthday present for her. The only thing she requested for her birthday was to go to a NASCAR race. I'm the only one who wants to can take her. It takes me nearly 10 minutes to contain her as she's bouncing all around with excitement.
11:30 - we arrive in Dover. Traffic comes to a screeching halt and we inch along at a grueling pace. I've never seen so many campers parked on the shoulder of a major road in my entire life. Apparently, wherever a NASCAR race is being held you are allowed to walk around in the street with open containers of beer with your shirt off waving your Confederate flag. Yee-haw!
11:40 - Elvis has blessed us with his presence. It's amazing how Elvis shows up at these kinds of events. What's really funny is that this guy was not intentionally trying to look like Elvis.
11:45 - we are granted quick access to the track handicapped parking because my mother has one of those fake handicapped placards. Okay, it's not fake, but her knees hurt. Whatever. As long as I can park 50 yards from the entrance, I'm game.
11:50 - we rent our video scanners and headsets. They are conveniently out of the regular scanners that rent for $19 and we are forced to rent the $50 ones - provided I give them my driver's license, a major credit card, and a year's worth of Redman Chewing Tobacco.
11:55 - we make our way to our seats. Although Dover is one of the smaller tracks on the NASCAR circuit, it's still a huge place. You could put all of the yuppie polo-shirt wearing NASCAR fans drinking Samual Adams beer into the infield and not have used any space.
11:56 - we find our seat. Well, it's not really a seat. It's a quarter-mile long sheet of aluminum with numbers every 6 inches. Apparently all of the fans are supposed to sit sideways??? My mother sits and I sit next to her and we easily have used up 5 seats. I hope they don't show up.
11:59 - now that I've taken it all in, I break out my book, Valkyrie, and begin reading it. My mom continues to stare at the track and is in heaven. She's the kind of fan that would wear a shirt that says, "God must be a NASCAR fan since he gave life to Jeff Gordon."
12:35 - all 135,000 fans have now arrived. My seat by rule has shrunken to its statistically designated 6 inches. I have some cute 25-ish reddish-brown haired girl in a short skirt practically on my lap on my left side - because there's no space to sit. But I really don't mind. Really I don't. I hope she couldn't tell that I was practically breathing in her ear. It could have been worse. I could be sitting next to her fugly fat boyfriend. What's up with cute girls and fat guys??? Anyway, my mother is leaning on my other side. We're packed in.
12:45 - national anthem and the obligatory fly over of some planes. We get F-16's from New Jersey. It could have been worse. A New Jersey chemical factory could have done a fly-over.
12:55 - the opening prayer. The announcer prays to Jesus Christ asking him to protect the drivers today. I can appreciate that. I want them to be safe, too. He then thanks Jesus Christ for Dover Downs Speedway. Because you know Dover Downs Speedway was created by devine intervention. Then I get to thinking. Are there no Jews in NASCAR? Are we making a big assumption that all NASCAR drivers and fans are Christians?
1:00 - the cars start making their practice laps. Holy C-R-A-P that's loud!
1:02 - there are now 42 cars circling the track grouping up into position being led by the pace car. Holy C-R-A-P that's even LOUDER!!!
1:03 - the pace car pulls off and the race begins. The sea of rednecks rise to their feet shaking their fists and Tony Stewart hats, swearing into their Budweiser cans spitting particles of chewing tobacco into the backs of the heads of the fans in front of them. The cars hit turn one and head our way. Y-A-H-H-H THAT's LOUD!!! The cars then cut turn 1 and head into turn 2 right in front of us. SHHZZZAAAAHHH!!!!! I CAN'T HEAR MYSELF SCREAMING!!!! I immediately put on my headphones, only to be greeted by a high-pitched ringing in my ears. Great, I'm deaf. What?
I've never seen cars accelerate so fast in my life. And FAST!!!! And to think...they're ONLY going about 150 mph in the straight away. Down at Talladega their pushing +200 mph, especially without restrictor plates. Look how fast they're going!!!! (yeah, I don't think a still frame picture does this ANY justice.)
1:10 - okay, I'm bored now. It's one thing to watch a race on television where there is commentary and the camera follows different drivers. I'm looking at the same turn in loud silence. Here they come. There they go. Here they come. There they go.
1:30 - time to start focusing my attention on something other than the race to amuse myself. Hey, there's a funny redneck decked in a Dale Earnhardt Jr t-shirt and a Hendricks Motor Sports racing hat in front of us. This guy must weigh 105 pounds, but is about 6'2" tall. And he obviously lives on beer and cigarettes. He's very tan, leathery tan. With a yellow-stained mustache, probably from the cigarettes. Or too much papaya. Though he looks 47 years old I suspect he's really 22 years old and gets too much sun from teaching the outdoor life skills class at the community college. What really cracks me up is that it appears as if he thinks he's communicating directly with the drivers. He's yelling into his Miller Light, while holding his Marlboro with the other hand, shaking his hands with determination and intentional motions.
1:35 - Suddenly the Pepsi truck gets lost and races out on to the track!!! The crowd is stunned! What's really embarrassing is he passes Joe Nemechek and Mike Bliss coming around Turn 2. But give him credit. He was drafting Bliss coming into Turn 1, then did a sling-shot maneuver around both of them going high in the turn.
1:45 - someone asks the funny redneck how he can sit there without a headset to muffle the noise. He yells, "What?" After several repeats of the question, he says that you don't really need a headset cuz it ain't all that bad. You get used to it after a while. I think most people would call that hearing loss, but if he calls it 'gettin' used to it'.
2:10 - several girls keep getting in the way when I'm trying to take pictures of the cars. I should delete the pictures, but I'll display them to show you how rude they were.
2:55 - funny redneck realizes his communications equipment is malfunctioning. He's trying to get DE's attention, so he begins waving to him. I'm sure Dale is waving back, because they're good buddies and everything.
3:31 - fairly uneventful race. No big crashes. There have been a couple of cautions to remove debris from the track and one caution to pick up a CAT Diesel hat and a Budweiser can that were tossed into Turn 3.
4:21 - funny redneck is on beer #17. He's now angry at the other drivers and is yelling at them incessantly. His taunts must be working because there are several lead changes at this point. I wish I knew what he was yelling, but I'm one of those sissies that wears a headset and all I see is funny redneck giving drivers the finger and moving his lips. At one point he drops his cigarette into his Chuck Taylors that he's had since when he dropped out of high school.
4:39 - At first I thought this guy was an official NASCAR photographer. Then I realized that he is a photographer from one of Eastern Shore's newspapers (Salisbury Times?) is standing in front of us getting photos for Monday's sports edition.
4:45 - the most exciting part of the race for those of us in Turn 2 - someone hits the wall and takes another driver with him, but does a donut burnout and takes off again.
5:01 - some fans are deciding to leave early. This lady has in hand everything you would need at a NASCAR race - a bouquet of flowers.
5:24 - Funny Redneck, whom I've now named Cletus Billy Ray Pickens, is hot. His hat's now on backwards, presumably to keep the sun off of his red neck. He's on his feet giving his drivers the verbal beat-down. Don't mess with Cletus. Apparently Jimmie Johnson leading the race is a personal attack on Billy Ray's personal integrity. He ain't taking it sitting down - or at least he ain't taking it until he passes out.
At one point I hear him yell, "Dale Jr. is a gawd!" I sit puzzled for a moment. Then I realize that he said, "God".
5:55 - the race is getting interesting. There was a pit stop, throwing Jimmie Johnson into 6th place. Out of the pit they race and it's bumper to bumper. 1o laps to go. Johnson seems to be making a pass on every lap. Tony Stewart has grabbed the lead. Johnson has caught up to him. 3 laps to go. Johnson grabs the lead. Stewart gets it back. The crowd is going NUTS! The nuts are going nuts! 1 lap to go. It's neck and neck. Johnson gets ahead. He pulls away. Everyone cheers. They must hate Tony Stewart. He does drive one of them ferin' jobs - a Toyoder. Johnson wins the race. Wow!!! That was really exciting.
6:00 - 134,995 people move out of the stands. My mother and I wait. There's no sense in trying to beat them to the traffic jam.
6:15 - everyone has moved out of the stands. We make our way out and head to the car.
6:25 - we sit in the car and notice that NO ONE is moving anywhere. I convince my mother that we just sit in the car and wait it out. No sense in running the engine and burning gas. It's actually quite nice outside. It's about 70° and breezy. I read my book - and finish it.
6:40 - NOTHING has moved yet. However, some people are backing up and moving to other rows, only to find that they can't move anywhere there either. Everyone is pointing and laughing at them. There's going to be a redneck fight!
6:45 - the smart people are breaking out there barbecue grills and beer and making dinner. Note to self - if I come back to a race, bring dinner.
7:00 - just for the record - no one has moved yet.
7:15 - still - no one has moved yet.
7:25 - some cars start moving. I start my gas-guzzling SUV and pull into the traffic. I notice that the 4-lane road running through the middle of the parking lot has no one in the oncoming lanes. I decide to make this MY lane and gain about 15 car lengths. Jackass SUV driver, I know, but your punk ass is still sitting behind that diesel spewing hill billy pick-up with the Mark Martin flag hanging behind the gun rack that stacked with fishing rods.
7:35 - we FINALLY get to the main road, but it is log-jammed going north. My mother says to go south and find somewhere to eat. Good idea. I'm sure NO ONE decided to go out for dinner after the race. We find this family restaurant called Family Restaurant and pull in. It's surprisingly not too crowded. We are seated and this Asian woman is our waitress. "What you want, lady?" she asks in a thick accent.
8:00 - dinner is served. I got mozzarella sticks, fried oysters, broccoli, and mashed sweet potatoes. Hmmm.....so good! Mom pays for dinner. I think that's great, considering I've already spent about $200 for this event.
8:20 - we're back on the main road. Still a TON of traffic. However it is slowly moving. We should be home in a day or so!
9:30 - we finally make it to I-95. We're cruising!
10:00 - we see a construction sign. Work being done after Route 24. Heck, that doesn't affect us because we're getting off on Route 24. So we pass Route 543, the last exit before Route 24.
10:00:01 - traffic comes to a screeching halt. Ugh! We sit.
10:01 - and sit
10:05 - and sit
10:10 - and sit
10:15 - finally start moving. 15 miles per hour! At this pace I should have my mother home in 3 more hours!
10:20 - lane shift - right lane closed, merge left.
10:35 - we finally make it to the exit.
10:40 - mom's at home. I pee....for like 7 minutes. The toilet flushed itself 4 times without me doing anything.
10:50 - I'm back on the road. To Eldersville. I decide to forgo the wonderful construction traffic on I-95 and use backroads through Harford and Baltimore County to get to the I-695. Additionally, I like dodging deer in the middle of the night when I'm really tired and jacked up on Diet Coke.
11:55 - I finally make it home. I immediately pee for another 7 minutes.
Monday
12:02 - I take a quick shower to get the caked on oil, tire shards, and layers of Marlboro smoke off of my body.
12:05 - I hit the bed and 7 seconds later I am asleep.
12:06 (exactly 1 minute later, or so it seemed) - the alarm clock rings and it's time to get up. I throw the clock out the window at all the damned happy song birds and go back to sleep.
6:25 - Mrs. Eludius tells me to get out bed. I tell her that I'm sleeping in.
??? - I get out of bed, take another shower, get dressed a go to work.
??? - I arrive at work.
??? - I exist at work with ringing in my ears and a blind stupor hanging over me. I go to 2 meetings and have no recollection of the meetings except for the emails from attendees asking me questions about it. Uh......
I feel like crap all day. Like I'm hungover. Without having drunk any alcohol. I can't imagine how Cletus feels. Did he go to work today? Does he have a job? And is he still giving Dale tips as he rounds Turn 2?
Thursday
I think I'm finally out of the funk. Amazing how long it takes to recover. Note to self - if you go to another NASCAR race, take off the next day, you idiot!
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