I knew that Dancing with the Stars was going to cause marital problems around here, and it just happened. You see, we have TiVo (which I thought we bought just to record the drag races while I was out of town at, well, the drag races), and we love it. You know, now that I think about it, I (me, this guy, Jack) had TiVo BEFORE marriage. Doesn’t that mean I should be the one who decides how it’s used? (I can feel all you long-time married guys shaking your heads right now, knowing I’m getting into a dangerous area). In addition to the NHRA stuff, I also record all the UFC fights so I can lay on the couch with a bowl of ice cream and watch dudes beat the crap out of one another … makes me feel like I’m getting a pseudo-workout. Hell, I even LET Jenna record American Idol, which is her favorite show. Sure, I admit that I actually have gotten into it since her mother Cindy and she forced me to watch it the first time, but that doesn’t discount my generosity.

Our” issue” surfaced after returning from Vegas and my wife anxiously trying to access the missed episodes of American Idol. Seems that the DVR “dumped” one of them, as it was at maximum capacity. Jenna about blew a gasket, complaining that my seven episodes of UFC had overloaded the machine. I simply told her that if she hadn’t been selfish, wanting to ALSO record Dancing with the Stars, that she wouldn’t have lost the A.I. show. That’s when she told me I’m dead if the bedroom recorder didn’t pick it up (stop shaking your heads, guys!). All turned out well, except I got stuck watching the last five minutes of D.W.T.S. I’d rather put itching powder inside my firesuit in July than watch that show!

Vegas was tough on us, with another second-round exit. I really am happy for my teammates though. Tony Shoe got his second win, and Capps his third. And how about Matt Hagan and team, their first NHRA Funny Car final together, and he drove his butt off all day. It won’t be long before he bags his first win, I’d just like to squeeze one of our own in before that (Atlanta would be nice).

We drove out in the motorhome on Tuesday night, pulling into the track at 1:30 am (standard deal for the Beckman family). Problem is, Jason stayed up until we got there. He very much is a night owl like his father, but this was ridiculous. I feel bad that we interrupt his schedule so much, between home, air travel, and taking the RV to races, but I do love having my family with me. We parked in the lot with the pro rigs and called it a night.

Wednesday morning it was time to park, unhook the PT, level, set up shades and awnings, and slide the pop-outs into the “big-ass” position. Then I had to drive into town for the NHRA press conference, held in the ESPN Zone of the Hard Rock Casino. Capps and Force were the other featured drivers (NHRA tries to rotate the participants to keep it interesting for the local media), which guaranteed it would be entertaining. My friend and Air Force contact, Pam Robinson, accompanied me. Pam writes for a veteran’s publication and enjoyed listening to Force ramble and Capps and me trying to keep up. I’m not sure what was going on when Pam snapped this shot, but John needed a comb and two more buttons, and just what the heck is Ron doing? Phil Burgess should have a “name the photo caption” contest with this one!

From the luncheon I headed over to the United States Bowling Conference center to get my very own bowling ball. 15 of us were invited to participate in this tournament. 17,000 teams, 85,000 bowlers strong from around the world come in over the 5 month contest and bowl. Me, I should have stayed on the couch and watched UFC. Let me digress: I typically bowl once every few years, and the last time I went Jenna was VERY pregnant (it’s somewhere in my blog archives, I think it was in Vegas in October of ’06 with my team). No, I’m not equating bowling with pregnancy in any way. Bowling doesn’t cause pregnancy, people cause pregnancy. (No bad jokes about bowler’s balls here, please. And no more shaking your head). My point is, it’s not my thing, and I only do it to have some fun with friends. When the teams were assigned, Del Worsham gave me a call and said they had a practice scheduled over at his shop. Chuck and Del are avid bowlers, and the upstairs of their funny car shop is a man’s paradise: it’s got a wet bar, pool table, pinball, and an honest-to-goodness two-lane bowling alley. I’d even wager that they have TiVo, and that they NEVER record any dancing shows. I don’t know how they ever got anything done on the racecars! I bowled two games, an unheard-of-for-me 156 and a typical 115. I decided to stop while I was ahead, I just wish I could have used that 156 in Vegas. Hell, I’d have taken the 115!

So I now have my very own bowling ball, drilled just for me. It was the first “finger-tip” ball I have ever tried, and it definitely affects the throw until you get used to it. That obviously must take more than three games … or lots of alcohol. More on that later (the bowling, not the drinking).

Once I got back to the track, I was invited to host one of the NHRA media/VIP races by Rick Quezada, who handles much of their media relations and PR. I even got to race the winner, meaning that I got my butt handed to me twice during the race weekend! Those Pontiacs must have some kind of “drive by wire” throttle setup, as they don’t move for a couple of tenths after you floor the gas. Really, I swear … that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. I did leave first, but was driven around by 200 feet and physically couldn’t press any harder on the throttle without breaking something (like my right foot), so down I went.

Thursday I met Pam Robinson at the Nellis Air Force Base gate so we could do our twice-a-year hospital visit. David Martinez and Ceil Smith also typically accompany us on the tour, making sure the patients that I visit are not under isolation, or NASCAR fans. (There’s some people we’re just not allowed to visit. You’re shaking your head again). They treat me so well there that it can be a bit embarrassing. They literally had a reserved parking sign out front for me, which I noticed after I cleverly parked halfway across the parking lot and walked to the entrance.

After dining with the troops and visiting all of the patients, it was time to go bowl. Let’s just say that my bowling and driving were similar this particular weekend in Vegas: seldom straight, and some close calls, but not much hit. I opened with a 115, got a consistent 117 on game two, and actually had three strikes in the third game. I’m starting to believe that the automatic scoring system must have malfunctioned, as an “86” is almost not possible with three strikes. If they had just set some pins in the gutters for me I’d easily have hit 100! Thankfully the rest of the funny car guys held their own and we got the victory. Matt Hagan, also a new bowler, actually hit 126 in game three. I give him the “most improved” award, as during warm-ups he actually threw his ball into the other lane. I believe he did it just to intimidate the dragster and Pro Stock guys, as he got better with each game. Funny, I looked pretty good in warm-ups and SHOULD have thrown my ball into the other lane in game three; at least it would have been an amusing way to add a “0” in the score for that frame! I included this photo just to remember what it was like to watch my ball actually go down the MIDDLE of the lane. (I think game three was a fluke, Johnny missed the tune-up, and my ball kept dropping holes and pulling right, at least that’s my story). The real stars of our team were Arend, Hight, and Worsham. Those three can bowl very well, and kept throwing strikes all day long. Del was high for us at 198, and Robert and Jeff were rock-solid with their scoring.

After bowling, I packed up my low-use new ball (after all, it really hasn’t made contact with much) and headed to the Stratosphere Casino for an autograph session. DSR has partnered with the hotel for our Vegas races, and we even had a NAPA car there for display. (I stole a spark plug from it to try and stop Capp’s winning streak, but I was just told that was the show car, NOT the race car. Go figure!). (Hey, stop it … I see you shaking your head again). After an hour or so I again packed up, fought Vegas traffic (If you’ve never been there, it sucks worse than L.A.) and landed at the Palm’s for the NHRA fan fare. They really did a great job again this year packing the place with hardcore drag fans, and there were probably 20 drivers in there signing away. By the time I got back to the motorhome at the track, I had been away about 11 hours and was pretty tired. Apparently embarrassment is quite fatiguing.

Friday was interesting. The Vegas and NHRA staff always do everything in their power to give us the best racetrack in the country, but something was different this year. I’m not sure if it was the amount of dust that blew onto the track throughout the weekend, but it just wasn’t the typical Vegas that we see. Not for lack of effort on the Safety Safari’s behalf, as these men and women went above and beyond to try to salvage Friday’s Pro session. Funny Car and Pro Stock each got to run once, but after the first Top Fueler oiled the track, it was obvious the elements were winning the battle, and the track and fans lost out. Earlier rains, persistent winds and lots of dust (along with cooler temperatures) made for a strange opening day for the Pros. Add to that a 45 minute delay to replace the Christmas tree in the middle of Funny Car qualifying, many aborted runs, and times that weren’t anywhere near what this track usually gives out, and we all began to look forward to Saturday. Our Friday run netted an unusual, long-lasting but low intensity tire shake run that I finally aborted. Very odd.

When all else fails, “eat, drink, and beat Mary” (or something like that). Friday night Rodger and Karen invited several friends to our semi-regular “Buca-de-Beppo dinner. It’s an Italian-food restaurant chain with some unusual decor and ambiance and great food, and we always have fun. We also had a 5-liter bottle of wine. I’m not sure what the Imperial conversion is on the metric liter, but I would estimate somewhere around 26 gallons. If you don’t believe me, check out this photo of Dick Vander Meer and me. Dick’s either got a bad case of the “drunks” or forgot his SPF 30 that day, and I look like I’m either .12 BAC or a relative of Rain Man (I’m going with the latter on both counts). My right hand was just too damn sore from bowling to hold the bottle, so Dick was my “wingman” for the heavy lifting.

Saturday we ran better, but I had my hands full in the right lane with the car trying to drive right (the groove in that lane starts well left of center and continues towards the centerline, eventually ending up about 6 feet from the middle of the lane). If you watched the coverage you’d know what I mean about the track being tricky. We ended up 13th, as our third and final run the car just didn’t respond to having the “wick” turned up … hmmm. The highlight of Saturday was getting to hang out with (including trips in the Suburban up to the line and down to the top end to get me after each run) my new buddy Cody. Cody currently is going through chemotherapy and was introduced to me by Chris Rivas and Racers For Christ. Cody is a great young man, and he had such a good time he came back Sunday for more of the same. He even got to be on ESPN with me after our round one victory.

After qualifying Jenna and I headed back into town. Cindy was watching our little man, and we decided to see a show with our friends Paul and Jessica Mitsos. We saw Danny Gans, who does lots of singing, jokes, and impressions. After the first ten minutes I was thinking that the $110 per ticket must include free parachute packing for the next year, as I was feeling like “my ‘chute had just been packed” (if you know what I mean). As the show got rolling along I guess I understood more why he started it the way he did, and I have to tell you it was one helluva performance, so he’s off the hook as far as the ‘chutes go.

We didn’t have time to eat before the show, but thankfully Jenna bought a $14 margarita in the lobby before the performance, so we had something to snack on. I kept looking for a ten dollar bill in the bottom of the glass, but no luck. Fourteen bucks … I think Mr. Gans needs to do the ‘chutes at least twice next time we’re in town! By the time the show ended, we looked at restaurants in the hotel (long waits), got the Mitsos car from valet (long wait), and braved the Vegas traffic to drive 3 blocks (long waits), ate, went back to get our car, and got back to the track, it was well past midnight. I didn’t feel too bad though, as my fingers (and pride) had heeled from the bowling, my arm soreness from pouring wine was gone, and the carpal tunnel from autographs was fading.

Sunday was great … if your last name was Hagan or Capps. We did beat arguably the best all-around car (and an ever-improving driver) with our first round squeaker over Ashley, and we were leading Hagan second round when trouble struck. At about 180 feet into the run we dropped the #8 cylinder, and the car made an immediate move to the right. I had the wheel turned left as far as my firesuit would allow my arms to move, but the wall just kept getting closer. I stayed on it as long as I could, as I had no idea where Matt was, but he hadn’t driven around us yet. Finally, it was obvious that it was pushing so hard I wouldn’t be able to bring it back, and I lifted. I doubt the headers missed the wall by more than a foot, and I really didn’t want to hit anything (no bowling jokes, please).

After watching my teammates in the finals, it was time to pack up, head home, and get stuff done. We pulled into Cindy’s house Sunday evening, got up early, and headed out to look at more houses that we really can’t afford. I replaced the water pump on the motor home, as it had been acting up. I really can’t feel too badly, as it had been in there a whole two years (yeah, I’m being VERY sarcastic on this one). We purchased another unit from Las Vegas Monaco at the track, so I figured it would be easy to just swap it out. Or not. Seems the one in the RV is better flow and less amp draw, plus it has a different bracket to mount it. So the logical thing to do would be to get another like model, right? Hell no, what’s the fun in that? It’s time for “Doctor Disassemble” to dissect, investigate, and repair (that’s what I typically think right before I ruin something mechanical or electrical and have to go buy a replacement). I took the motor apart to clean and inspect the commutator and brushes, then dove into the pump portion. After cleaning everything, I decided to replace the micro switch that activates the unit and see if that fixes it. Jason helped me reinstall the unit, which required shimmying into one of the cargo spaces (I shimmied, Jason could stand up). If all goes according to my typical results, I will be replacing this unit with the new pump, in the middle of the night, in the pouring rain, in the next month or so!

I got back to my housework and painting, and I now know I will NOT be pursuing any career that involves latex and oils (boy, could THAT be interpreted a couple of different ways – talk about your double entendres!). I have scraped, stripped (quit thinking like that!), sanded, primed twice, painted two coats, and am actually pretty proud of the way the side of the garage turned out. I even had to replace a piece of fascia with compound cuts on each side, and it only took me 3 hours for a 30 minute project. Some things to notice in the photo: Admire the brush holding technique (which is altogether different than the proper way to hold a bowling ball), check out the perfectly straight lines (I’m practicing for Atlanta), and notice the crates that each carry “up to $500 fine for stealing” … I could be in the hole $2,000 after this job. Seriously, it really is a good sense of pride after finishing a project and getting the desired results. The only thing that feels better is being able to manipulate your friends into doing the work for you, but none of mine were available on short notice.

It felt great to get back out in the surf, even if Rich and I were battling some fairly small and inconsistent waves on Wednesday. Even better, my phone rang on Saturday and Rich had news that the ocean looked much better, and I caught perhaps the nicest drop that I’ve had in the last 10-15 years, making for an awesome day in the water.

Jason is developing so much each week that it just amazes us. I know how annoying it is the way some people rave about their kids, and I know he’s fairly typical for his age, but it’s just wild how much “stuff” kids pick up on. For instance, he’s barely two and yet has already firmly grasped the concept of looking foolish by pulling female underwear over hi’s head.

Hell, he’s so damn good at it he just skipped right past “beginner” and “novice”, zooming straight up to “elite status” by getting (count ‘em) four pair on at once. I can’t tell you how proud I am of my boy! (Are you still shaking your head?). He also likes to line up his toys on occasion, so he went to work in the living room displaying the abundance of toys he has acquired over his short 25 months of existence. Fire trucks go with fire trucks, tow trucks have their own section, and the NASCARs stay together.

Wait a minute … who the heck snuck stock cars into my house? Was it one of the patients from the military hospital? The guy who tried to steal my identity last month? Force? I’ll be honest, the underwear thing was kind of cool, but I may just have to draw the line with choices of racing cars in my house.

Happy Easter, and stay tuned!

PS- On a sad note, we recently lost a great man and a wonderful photographer, Bob Hesser. Fortunately, I did get to know Bob and spend some time with him on occasion, and I hope his family will find some solace in the memories that he left and the positive impressions he made on so many of us. I can’t say how sorry I am and what a loss it is to all of us. I know that Bob died of pneumonia, but I don’t have any other details. I also know that he was far too young to leave this place and his four children, and I hope there is something we all can do to help his family.