Cory didn't remind me that it was "socks only" day in Richmond. Those dragster guys are just so fashion conscious!

John Crosby, who operates the tractor to drag and spray the track, took over the duties during Sportsman racing. I hear his thumb is still calloused and sore.

My little buddy Josh Pribble, got the blower belt that was on our car when we qualified No. 1, and I'm trying to show him how to use it as a Hoola-Hoop.

Long time, no talk to! I sure wish that you’d write more often, but I understand completely. Oops, I’m really confused … it seems that it is I who has been reticent with the blogs lately, and I humbly apologize. Being on the road so much has certainly affected my perception on several things, including the frequency of my journalistic entries.

I’ve averaged about 48 blogs per year for the last two, but 2009 has proven more difficult for me to touch pen to paper (I’m being metaphorical here, just bear with me), though much of that is due to moving, travelling, and “daddy-ing” taking up more time. Once again I have fallen so far behind that I either need to give a really short version of my latest escapades (not to be confused with the SUV from Cadillac), which ain’t gonna happen, or split up my odyssey (not to be confused with the Honda vehicle) into a couple of entries. By the way, if you guessed “B” as my chosen method, give yourself an “A” for intuitiveness. So, let’s set the “way-back machine” (or WBM, not to be confused with BMW) for Richmond and start from there:

Though qualifying No. 1 was awesome, losing in the first round blew … in a major way! We had a tremendous opportunity to climb back up to the top of the standings, and it all went away in tire smoke 200 feet into the run against John Smith (not to be confused with Joseph Smith … he was the Mormon dude). Though I have twice tied for the No. 1 spot (and lost the tie-breaker based on the mph), I have enjoyed starting Sunday as the top seed only one time, at my fourth event in a Funny Car.

When we went up for the last run at what was, again, a very fast Virginia track, I figured we’d be happy with a 4.07 and a place in the top half of the field. Our teammate, Matt Hagan, had run a jaw-dropping 4.05 in the earlier session, but I didn’t think the track would give us that kind of number. When my other teammate, Capps, went 4.046 one pair ahead of us (though in the other lane), it really made me wonder what kind of tune-up Johnny, John, and Lee had put in our car.

My question was answered about three minutes later when, knowing I was on a bad-ass run, I crouched down in the seat near the finish line so I could look up through the top of the windshield and see the scoreboard when I went by. “4.044” looked plenty good to me, and then we had to watch eight very fast cars behind us take their shots at our number, which held up. Saturday was good … Sunday could have been better.

After an all-too-short Sunday, it was time to pack up and head out. We actually pulled out of the track just before the final ran, as Richmond can get plenty crowded with only one way out. The fan in me always wants to stay for the finals, but we needed to get our road trip started. Jenna, Cindy (who had flown in Friday and stayed with us), Jason (who still continues to mooch off of us and still doesn’t have a job), and I were heading up to Delaware to visit their family. This was the first time that Jenna and I had been back since Cindy’s sister, Kathy, passed away, and it was good to spend time with her parents Bill and Inez, and husband, George. We sent George the winner’s jacket from Norwalk, and now that the weather is getting cold he can wear it around his racing buddies. Cindy stayed at her parents’ house, while we slept in the RV, which was parked in the “community” parking lot.

Delaware Day One featured a trip to nearby historic New Castle for some sightseeing with Jason and Grandma. Jenna and I tagged along to provide chauffeur service and photo documentation assistance. I really love history (ironically, I thought it was the most boring topic in school, yet now I can’t get enough of it) and try to visit as many notable places as possible, so New Castle (not to be confused with “Old Castle”, which I would guess is somewhere in England) fit right into my designs.

Other Delaware delights included a trip to the pumpkin patch for Jason. Jenna and I sat this one out, as Grandma and the Great Grandparents took guardianship of our diminutive chap for the day. Besides, Jenna and I had business to attend to, state capitol-style; We had checked our map and decided that New Jersey really was the only one within reach that we had not already partaken of, so we forwent (there’s some old English for you) the Halloween fruit retailer and headed to Jersey. After our Capitol tour (Jersey security was something else; you could not even get into the building unless going on an accompanied tour) we still were craving some scenery, so we took a segue (no, not one of those 2-wheel self-propelled transportation devices) over to Princeton University. While on our way over there, Jenna was able to answer many questions we had about the age of the university, what exactly an “Ivy League” school is (originally used for NCAA sports to denote eight separate institutions), and definitions for several words that we had come up with. No, we didn’t have Alex Trebec in the back seat, but my smart wife is quite handy as a researcher, and she has put my Blackberry to good use (I hope that didn’t sound like an innuendo, which my phone tells me means, “indirect remark”). Hence, (therefore, for this reason, thus, consequently, that’s why, etc.) the third part of the title of this blog, reflecting my newfound excitement over the usefulness of my handset.

One of my childhood friends, Richard Schwartz, whom I met in the fourth grade and – with an IQ of 185 -- is probably the most intelligent person I ever met, was a math professor there when last I heard from him. Unfortunately, even the trusty Blackberry with Internet connection could not locate any news on him, which surprised me, as he is a published mathematician (I needed the Blackberry to help with that spelling!). The campus was beautiful, and I wish we had time to get out of the car and walk around. We needed to head back to Delaware, pack up the relatives, and head over to Jenna’s cousin Kenny and Katie’s place in Maryland. While the “grown-ups” all had after dinner conversation, I got pummeled by Will, Emma, and little Charlie in the kid’s play room. Jason stayed mesmerized (spelled that all by myself) with all the new toys.

On the 14th (yes, that is how far behind I am with my blogs) it was time to head down to Maryland to visit my family, and I was just getting everything buttoned up when disaster struck (Okay, I’m being a bit theatrical for literary purposes. While not a disaster on the proportion of the White Star Titanic or the Exxon Valdez, still, the HMS Beckman had issues); while wheeling the tow dolly over to the RV, I noticed that the right-side tire had quite a bit of camber that wasn’t factory. Though I’m sure the new alignment would help carry more corner speed into those hard left turns, it was causing the tire sidewall to rub on the fender bracket and it was gouged pretty good. If I was back home, with access to all my tools and welder, I’m sure I could have taken two or three days and screwed it up even more. Problem was; I was in Delaware with my $19 Wal Mart tool kit and nothing else, and we needed to be on the road that day. I figured that I would try to find a hitch installer and see what we could do, but then I had a watershed moment (OK, it really wasn’t a defining time in my life, but it was sort of an “epiphany-light”); I decided to call George, who I think was home hanging out in his sporty NHRA winner’s jacket. He suggested I call Skeeter, who is a die-hard drag racer/fan from back in the ‘60s. I got to hang out with several of this group the last time I was out, and I just sat back and enjoyed the bench racing session. Anyway, Skeeter has contacts, and howdy! Long story short: he, Tom, and Brett got me going.

While Skeeter warmed his hands in his pockets, and Tom rubbed his together, Brett decided to use the welder to keep his mitts toasty. The good news: my tow dolly now is faster than your tow dolly!

The spindle welds had cracked and it had begun to succumb to gravity, obviously the result of my enormously heavy PT Cruiser! Brett had to torch off the axle gusset to gain access to the offending weld, then we “McGyvered” (not sure if that term can be found on my Blackberry) the alignment to what looked good to us, the Committee of Four. Not only did I get back on the road, but I now had the confidence that my problems (at least on that side of the axle) were behind me. Brett is the Master of the MIG, Tom the Colonel of Cutting, and Skeeter the Prince of Pipe (our alignment “aid” was a four-foot pipe). I was comfortable with everything … except the severely worn tire on the one side. Since the other 10 tires on the RV and PT were new, why the heck not make it an even dozen and put new shoes on my dolly!

We headed down I-95 (interesting how the toll was $23 in the North direction and $7 for the same road on the Southern bearing. Seems that our government has let many private companies “purchase” the rights to some of our roads, trading maintenance for the right to charge whatever toll they think “appropriate”) to my cousin Ed and Kathy’s place in Laurel, MD. With a scheduled tour of the DC Capitol at 1:30 on the 15th, I figured I’d just drop off the wheels at a local tire store before then and we could pick them up later. Turns out that the 205/75R14 (item #2 in my title) isn’t so easy to find any longer, nearly going the way of the dodo (not “dodo” as in someone who isn’t too bright, I’m talking about the bird that now is extinct). I was just getting used to the fact that I couldn’t buy an L-60/15 any more, and now they pull this conspiracy on me! Our third stop was the charm, and I now am in the running for the “Goodyear customer of the year” award.

Yes, it was cold. Yes, it was raining. Yes, I use Valvoline ... and so should you!

Hey, for seven bucks you got all-you-can-eat spaghetti and a beauty pageant. From left, Allen Haines, fourth place, my dad Bob, and my uncle Ted (in his official evening wear).

At our "80% off" car show, my dad hanging out with some of his old hot rod pals.

Our Nation’s Capitol is alive and well, though the weather was quite chilly and wet for our visit. I hadn’t seen the place since Carter was in office (Jimmy, not Nell … I think I used that joke on a prior blog), but it appears they are taking good care of it all. Speaking of chilly and wet, the weather from this point on has been fairly nasty for us, and I’ll provide more insight about that in my next blog, which should be finished sometime before the Mayans’ predicted end of the world (that would be 12/21/12 for those of you not following the Mayan calendar, or the new Hollywood apocalyptic movies).

After hanging out with my Eastern Maryland relatives for another day, it was time to head west -- out to Cumberland – to see the rest of the family. That Saturday was supposed to be the annual car show downtown, which unfortunately had to be postponed due to … are you ready … bad weather.

Despite the postponement, all else went well. My dad and Teri drove up from Arlington (Texas, not the National Cemetery), and we all had a spaghetti dinner at the local Shrine Club.

When I say “we all”, I mean that nearly 100 people showed up. Truth be told, I think some of them had no clue who I was, but they had seven bucks and we’re hungry for some Italian food! Allen Haines, who does much of the organizing for the car events, did manage to pull off a mini car show at a local business, Class Glass, which manufactures hot-rod bodies.

Aside from all that, I got to spend time with many of my relatives, we had cake for Teri’s birthday, and my cousins won a Civil War battle. I suppose I should expound on that: Mickey and Cole Livingston are Union (the Federal or Northern side of the conflict, not a worker’s coalition) re-enactors who participate in many battles each year. This particular fight was the 145th anniversary of the Cedar Creek battle in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia. We arrived late, thanks to help from our 145-year-newer GPS Magellan (come to think of it, wasn’t Magellan killed by natives?), and so we only saw about 10 percent of the battle. It was incredible, and I hope next year we can attend another battle or two.

While not admitting that I’m painfully behind (not to be confused with a painful behind) in my blogs, this only catches me up to October 18th, so I shall endeavor to submit another entry as soon as possible. Currently I sit in the RV in the Vegas circle track parking lot, but next on your menu shall be: travel, weather, malfunctions, cool places, and, I hope … more Wallys!

Stay tuned.