Speeding Out Loud

 

The other week, my honey, told me that he had rented out a racetrack, exclusively, for his best customers.

 

 What exactly does this mean, I thought?

 

“What do you  mean?”

 

“I’ve rented out a Nascar racetrack, outside of Chicago, to take all of my best customers too”.

 

“What do you mean ‘too’?”

 

“We’re all going to drive!”.

 

What… tf?

 

 “On THE track?”

 

“Yes”.

 

“They’ll need lessons. Will they get lessons, or do you intend for them to just get strapped down and drive?”

 

“Lessons, of course”.

 

“Really? Do you know what this encompasses? You’ll need certified drivers, with no stand-bys, full gear and classroom instruction, a clear field and waivers?”

 

“I know”.

 

“Fireproof, choke bottom suits, with twin seats, and ghost controls”.

 

“All taken care off”.

 

“Though these cars can reach speeds of over 150mph, no one will reach that far- without a slingshot move. You know that right?”.

 

“Right”.

 

“And do you intend to have these people taught how to ‘slingshot?”.

 

“Don’t worry. No one will have the guts”.

 

“You don’t even know what a ‘slingshot’ is, do you?”

 

“You’re not the boss of me, Cheryl!” (or something along this line).

 

“You’re an idiot. I’m in”.

 

One of the many incarnations my dad had when I was young was Race Car Driver.

 

It is as much of the make-up of my bones as the calcium that is waning in those same bones every day.

 

I can remember my father taking me to Nelson Ledges track, to test his Indy car, the Black Widow, and suiting me up, helmet on, and placing me on his lap to test drive the speed and validity of his machine.

 

We reached 165mph. I could read. My mother was working.

 

Did I like it?

 

No.

 

Even at twelve, it seemed reckless and vain.

 

Did I go twice?

 

Yes, I did.

 

And… such are the conflicts of life: the gritty edges have more feeling, but you don’t sleep as well, while you’re bleeding.

 

Even though, I suited up, and ran the track– at 155 mph.

 

My father done me right- this time.

 

 

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  • Susan Bonifant - I am some impressed by your knowledge of this. And I love your take on the gritty edges. I had to temper my need for speed after some serious skiing accidents, but I still need a little more of what you’re having.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Hahahaaaaa. You had be giggling. The reason I have any knowledge is that my father toyed with being a racecar driver long ago. This was the first time behind the wheel since I was a teenager. As far as ‘what I’m having’ I’ll mix up a batch. HA!ReplyCancel

  • Darcy Perdu (So Then Stories) - Damn, girl! You “git ‘er done!” Very brave! You little speed demon you! :o)ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - You only live once- but I’m NOT jumping out of a plane! Which my son is trying to get me to do. Damn kids and their dares.ReplyCancel

  • Cary Vaughn - Oh my gosh. That is so cool. Were you not terrified of losing control of the car?ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - No. I was with a professional driver in the co-pilot seat. But he did say I was a quick learn.HahaaReplyCancel

  • Sue - You are so fun. Look at all the scrathes and dings on the helmets!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Not from accidents- unless you consider actually getting INTO the damn thing! Jezz- what a tight space! And HOT!!!!!ReplyCancel

  • Lana - SO cool! My son will be very jealous when I show this to him!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - It’s expensive- so maybe a Xmas gift Lana? HahahaaaaReplyCancel

  • Carollynn Hammersmith - You are too cool for words, Cheryl, too cool by far. I’m impressed and jealous all at the same time.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - I don’t like speed. It feels out-of-control but since both of the kids did it, I couldn’t let them say Mom was a chicken!ReplyCancel

  • Connie McLeod - so friggin’ awesoneReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - It was a blast Connie! I had to leave my fear of high speeds on the track but it was worth it!ReplyCancel

  • Kathleen O'Donnell - Look at you! Go, girl.ReplyCancel

  • Rena McDaniel - I grew up with racing and Nascar its something my husband and I enjoy but only from our living room or local sportsbar!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - I grew-up with it too, but, until the other week, didn’t want to get a mile near it, but it was FUN!ReplyCancel

  • Mari Collier - You live in a far different world than I do. The danger used to be going rattlesnake hunting. I don’t do that anymore. Really cool!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - I don’t mind snakes, though once in Tennessee our dog jumped in a river and the Water Moccasins went after him. They didn’t get to him- thank God.ReplyCancel

  • Jane Pfenning Potee - So inspiring! Did the same thing on my 50th birthday at the Michigan International Speedway. No one can take that away. Life is pretty cool at 150+ mph. ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Yes. Yes it is. ANd Hot. VERY HOT. Those suits about did me in!ReplyCancel

  • Ellen Dolgen - Only you! You Go GIrl!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - The heat in the suits made hot flashes seem like an Alaskan winter. OMG!ReplyCancel

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