These Are the Days

Indianapolis, I love the place, absolutely love it. It is a home away from home for me. Every May for the past 16 years I have gone there to see the ‘Greatest Spectacle In Racing,’ the Indy 500. This year had a very different feel to it. It was J’s 3^rd year, Chris’ 2^nd, & Miah was a last second addition to the crew for his 1^st appearance. One notable subtraction was my bro who is working down in Florida. You are going to notice a ton of links in here, some to pics, some to sites for more info on stuff, check them out. Pic creds go to Miah, I haven’t gotten my developed yet (His whole collection can be found here.). Also, I know I forgot a ton of shit, so add stories under the comment section or I can post an update.

The day started on an awesome note for me. I got my acceptance letter for the teacher education program @ SNC. It wasn’t a surprise at all but it was great to have 100% tangible proof after all the hard work of the last year. After picking up the guys & attempting to pack everything into my tiny car, we were left with a major problem. A case of beer wouldn’t fit. Our solution, we broke open the case & packed bottles into every crevice of my trunk. It worked & we were soon on our way.

The trip down was as usual, pretty fun. We made several pit stops (Chris has the world’s smallest bladder.), which was rather unusual though. I like to get in my car & just fly to wherever I am going. Our trip took us down 57, linked us up with 43 & soon had us to Chicago. I love driving in big cities, love it. It is a lot like a chess game. You can drive as fast as you want but getting through the city is about making smart moves & picking the right lanes to ride in. J is usually my point man, or using NASCAR terms, my spotter. It is all really funny the more I think about it., but he is a freaking expert. We have this unspoken chemistry that only 2 men who have a lot of gay sex can have. He knows exactly what & when to tell me without out me prompting him. This happens every time we take a trip together.

In Chicago we came upon a black Suburban in traffic, my parent’s ride I call Midnight. My mom was behind the wheel & being the good son I am, I decided to give her a bit of a surprise. As I went flying by, I ripped to the right & cut her off. I guess you had to be there.

Once we got out of Chicago, it was clear sailing to Indy. For those who have never driven in Indiana, it is 1 big fucking field. Highway 65 cuts all the way down to Indianapolis in the center of the state. My mom, who doesn’t break 65 @ any point, ever, sets the cruise @ 85 on the way down. Amazingly, this is about my limit too. It kind of struck me on the way down, just how calm I have gotten driving. My last road rage happened last year going down to Indy. I guess I finally figured out it was just a retarded thing to get all worked up over (Chris’ screams in the backseat as I ripped towards the Explorer last year kind of stick in my head too.). This trip was no different, I mean, I can have fun but no anger.

It seems that every time I go anywhere, I end up finding dancing partners on the road & begin playing games. On the way down this year it was a smoking hot chick in a silver Mercedes. It was seriously something out of You Got Served. She would make a bold pass, then me. As we would rip by each other we would flash a smile to each other. This went on for an hour or so until it kind of got boring. With Jaren’s help, we ended up smoking her. Still, she was way hot & my hat is off to her.

We got off in the town of Speedway & made our way to our campsite. The guys set up the tent & I started grilling. With this, the drinking began. Our beer may have been luke warm, but it went down smooth. Soon everything was up & J & I were tossing the football as Chris & Miah listened to a little System.

We were gunning the ball over on open field as J threw beautiful Favre rainbows & I threw more Don Majikowski type passes. Everything was smooth until I gunned one that J couldn’t quite get to. It bounced off the ground & almost hit a grill. The whole scene was kind of funny. Emphasize the was. Some enormous black dude in the group I just almost took out comes over to J & threatens to kill him if it happens again. Well, after I came close a couple of other times & we decided it would probably be best for our health to stop. For the record, we could have taken dude’s crew no prob, what, what.

After a quick & ridiculously drunk game of basketball, we were soon headed into town for some fun. Around the track there are a ton of stands to buy stuff & even more drunks with 2 goals: 1.) To get more drunk. 2.) To see tons of boobs, preferably 2 at a time.

Already loaded, our walk was made even more eventful but the additional beer we had 2 fisted on the way out of our campsite. Not surprisingly, Chris had to pee at the 1^st port-o-pottie he saw. He went in, took, a #1, & emerged unscathed. Seconds later, he made an about face & re-entered the facility for a #2. This was probably a bad idea. I began kicking the door relentlessly. I really don’t know why I did it but the ever building crowd around us seemed to also find it funny. After I almost unlatched the door about 5 different times with kicks, Chris finally dropped the kids off @ the pool & we were off (I think Chris tried beating the shit out of me at this point too.).

There are 2 versions of drunk Schwa, really quiet or really friendly. This night I was way friendly drunk. I took so many pics of random people & shit. People appreciated the attention & I got quite a few handshakes. Had any of us remembered very much from the night, I am sure we would have made quite a few friends.

We did get to see quite a few boobies, each progressively nastier. It really didn’t do too much for me. Why is it that the hot chick never show an inch, & the nasty ones are raking their shirts open like there is a rabid squirrel caught under it? Oh wait, because skanks do that sort of shit for attention.

We eventually found a little racing game that J decided to play. He jumped on the Jeff Gordon machine & was immediately heckled by some asshole Dale Jr. fan (me). I’ll be real here, J was the fucking man. He was owning up on everyone. The more he won, the more we cheered, & got the crowd behind us. Some old lady was screaming for J. I guarantee he could have taken her home… missed opportunities. His face was freaking priceless when he won. He had this scream & fist pump ensemble that was absolutely incredible. Race highlights included Chris holding J’s car down during a race & in another J, unable to figure out how to turn his car around, ripping the car into reverse & almost winning the race while doing 5 laps backward.

We soon began our retreat to our campsite. The way back was very eventful. The team encountered who I affectionately call the “Jesus freaks.” For the most part, they are just racists that use Jesus as an excuse for being idiots. Several incidents came out of these encounters.

The 1^st came as they set up for a roadside Christian rock show, wheeeeeee (We have had fun @ Christian rock shows before.). I was quite confident these guys wouldn’t put on quite the same show so we didn’t stay for the show. One dude engaged me in a little convo though & we were soon on the subject of Skillet. He was talking some shit about how great of friends he was with them, but couldn’t name a single song of theirs. I soon became extremely bored/confused & moved on.

Next up was a group marching with a cross. They were singing amazing grace & I soon rang in with my own version with gripping lyrics such as, “Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah.” Mature, I know. During this time I noticed that their cross had a hinge on it for easy folding. Being completely inebriated at the time, I kindly pointed out that it wasn’t really an authentic cross because of the hinge. The dude stops singing, & just when I think he is going to punch me, starts laughing & thanks me for pointing it out.

Our last encounter wasn’t quite so positive. There were a pile of these Jesus dudes further down, chanting something (I use the term pile for a reason.). Always being inquisitive, we all headed over to them. They were chanting & holding signs. We may have been drunk, but we could definitely read, “Jesus Hates Fags” along with some other really positive slogans. These people don’t like the fact I drink but they can say “Jesus Hates Fags?” I went over kindly pointed out that the guy was a stupid racist (No screams, just told him calmly thank God.). Others didn’t approach the situation in the same docile way. One dude gunned a beer bottle at the racists. The very large state trooper presence immediately drilled him from about 15 directions & he was soon under arrest. It looked like it hurt, a lot.

With our drunkenness wearing off, we stumbled back into our campsite. All I remember is making some delicious brats & passing out almost immediately.

We were awaken @ 4:30 to head into the track for the race. With amazing precision, we made it into the track & soon had a great spot in turn 2 with a huge jumbo-tron TV behind us. Soon we were looking around & the scenery was unbelievable. The weather was perfect & there were gorgeous, & I mean gorgeous, women everywhere. The entire day was spent picking each other’s jaws off the freaking ground. One thing I thought was pretty cool was getting to check out the new Chevy Corvette. The car is unbelievable. They made it look more like Euro sports cars & it worked. After making a few purchases we were back in our seats.

One of my favorite things to do on race day is people watch. It is just a lot of fun. Around us in all direction were beautiful women with huge guys. Ummm, had to be kind of careful there. Outside that were the truly interesting specimen. Miah termed them your “typical race fan.” To our left was a dude about as skinny as me with a tank top on & back hair think than any I have ever seen (:Cough, gag, cough: Clearing vomit from my throat). He topped of the ensemble with tube socks up to his knees. God I love America. His wife was truly the treat. She also was sporting a tank top but had it rolled up exposing her stomach. The guys thought it was tasty because I pregnant chick was showing here stomach. The were scared for life when I pointed out a pregnant woman’s stomach isn’t saggy, it’s stretched out. This meant that was a lot of human flesh not holding another life (I took a pic very stealthily, you’ll have to wait for the post.). I was going to point out that pregnant women don’t drink swill either but this was, well, Indiana, & well, an auto race. Their kid was equally disturbing. I think it was a she (The fact the jury out kind should tip this one off.). She looked like an experiment gone wrong. I am struggling even to fid the words to describe her properly, so I will move on.

Right before the race a group of guys piled in a round us & we made room on our enormous tarp for them. Chris & Miah hated the guys, I loved them. They were way redneck but way cool. I think they won my heart when the guy behind us yelled to the one in front, “PBR me ASAP!” a beer was immediately in the air & this didn’t stop for all 500 miles (I have added PBR & Blatz to favorite beer list recently.). each one had a customized beer holder for their belt & were there for just a good time, something I appreciated. Their beer holders ranged from masterful duct tape creations to leather ones that looked like they had a kid make it at Boy Scout Camp for them. Needless to say, I was very impressed.

Anyway, then the race started, if you really cared about it, you would have watched the 89^th running of the Indianapolis 500 on TV. Here’s a recap to catch up on it if you didn’t. My driver Hornish almost took down the wall in front of us & Danica almost won the damn race. Chris talked a ton of shit the whole race, as his drivers where 1-2 for a while, only to have my warning of “Don’t party till the flag falls” come way too true as J took the victory with Dan Wheldon.

We got back to my car & I jumped in to start it, nothing. we killed my battery the previous night listening to music, shit. This is where my social skills come in handy. I went over to the people next to us & start smoozing. I was wearing an SNC T-shirt & amazingly, the people knew someone that had gone there (I knew this whole SNC thing would pay off.) They were more than willing to help us out & we were soon on our way. Much thanks to the old couple & their drunken friends, much love.

The ride home is always fun. We got out of Indy with no problems at all. It was almost scary how quick we got out. We were soon on 65 North & flying home. If you see the amount of cops in Indy during the race, you soon understand there is no cop in any other part of the state. Every time I leave Indy, I just drop the hammer. This year we hooked up with a mini van & raced all the way to Chicago. It was a lot of fun.

Fun until my car started acting up. You know that sound your blinker makes? It wouldn’t go off. This was way annoying & one of the few problems that can’t be fixed by turning up the radio. After nearly going insane for 2 hours, it finally started to subside.

A few bathroom stops later & we were home. What a weekend that was.

I can’t believe I actually typed this thing out finally. Well, I hope you enjoyed. My next Blog is going to be on a Ferris wheel & vomit, disgusting story. I finally got J to Blog it up. Check out J’s Blog for the chronicles of Daniel. For examples of his work check out his guest column, Last Summer Sunset, & my paper, Northern Oasis inspired by it.

Currently Playing
Farewell Concert (Live)
By the Statler Brothers
“More Than a Name on a Wall”

Posted by D. Schwa on Friday, June 17, 2005 at 2:25 PM | Permalink