To continue my theme from last blog, I think my good Karma must have run out somewhere on I-5 in the wee hours of last Friday morning. That’s the only way I can explain going from holding a Wally one weekend to holding on to the steering wheel while sliding wrong-side-up the next.

Check out what Don Leach made for me! Now I just need to get the city council to name a street for my sign

Thursday started well. I headed over to Twin Palms RV and Boat Storage (Trademarked and Registered, all rights reserved) to pick up the motorhome. While out there Andy and Jim (copyright, not for personal use) bought me lunch for getting their storage company decal into its first winner’s circle in Atlanta. Cool, free lunch! (Maybe that was pushing it on my Karma thing, next time I guess I should treat). After getting the RV back home, I headed down south to join the MTS All-Stars banquet. Each year the outstanding employees of Mail Terminal Services are rewarded with a trip to different places, and this year San Diego hosted our get-together. Rodger asked if I would come down and speak about teamwork, discipline, and the psychology of being the best you can. Cool, free dinner (actually a sandwich box to go, I had a long trip ahead of me).

Being a numbers guy, I’m always crunching data while driving down the road. Things like gas mileage, average speed, estimated time of arrival, and Newton’s Third Law typically keep my mind occupied. Anyway, my odometer had topped 350 miles for the day before I even got back home, and I wasn’t halfway through with my travels. In fact, by the time we pulled into the parking lot of Sacramento Raceway, we had passed the 700-mile mark a ways back.

I was there to drive the nostalgia Funny Car of Lee and Lee Paul Jennings. I had made a shakedown run last month and was really looking forward to racing in the Funny Car Fever event that was being put on by Lisa and Lee Paul. By 350 feet into the first qualifying run (we were the first pair), I was no longer looking forward to it! After pedaling to try and eliminate the wheelspin then short-shifting for the same reason, all the car was doing was smoking the tires, so it was time to shut off. Then it got ugly. The car began bouncing and rocking side to side, calmed down a bit, and took off again with the hopping. Just before 1000’ (I’ve now been off of the throttle for more than 600’), the rear end took a nasty hop, went way right, and drove the front of the car left into the concrete K-rail (just like the freeway dividers). The hit broke the left rear wheel, and the car contacted the barrier again at 1300’. This time when it came off of the wall, with no left wheel to support it, over I went and slid for about 300’. It’s a very lonely feeling hanging upside-down waiting for the top end crew to get to you. Those guys were outstanding, reaching me in probably 35 seconds, but it seemed more like 35 minutes. They rolled me back onto my “feet” and helped me out. I was absolutely fine, not a scratch, but I wish I could say the same for the once beautiful Vega. I feel so bad for the Jennings family and crew, but everyone was nothing but amazing for the entire weekend.

After my crash and watching most of the cars have some traction issues and all of the left lane runs resulting in spin, it was decided to move the second qualifying run to Saturday in the hopes of a warmer, stickier racing surface.

What’s that saying, “Aside from that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?” Well, with the very notable exception of wrecking a gorgeous race car, the rest of my time there was quite enjoyable. A gentleman introduced himself to me in the pits, and I immediately knew who it was. John “Tarzan” Austin was a fixture on the Top Fuel circuit for years, making a name for himself first as Tommy Ivo’s wrench then as a driver. One of the greatest drag race photos of all time is Ivo, in the lights at Pomona, trailing flames and in the process of flipping over. You barely can see the parachute of the other car in the corner of the shot, but that would be “Tarzan” in the other lane. He was always quite a character in an era filled with personalities, and I was so happy he introduced himself to me.

I wound up announcing with my buddies and “pro talkers” Eric and John up in the tower. I got some great feedback from the crowd between rounds, saying they really liked the technical insight. They also asked questions like, “How did it feel to win Atlanta,” “Was that you I saw sliding on your roof last night,” and, “Where’s Tarzan?” Easy: “Great,” “Unfortunately, yes,” and “I don’t know”… in that order.

I was also honored as the Grand Marshal for the race, which was way cool. Lee Paul and Lisa presented me with an awesome trophy on the starting line during opening ceremonies. I was thinking about asking if I could sing the national anthem, but I didn’t want to push my luck. My Karma must’ve been at an all-time low after Friday night, and I needed to nurse it back gently.

Not only did I get to announce all of the Funny Car racing (congrats to Garrett Bateman in the Plueger & Gyger Mustang), but I got to propose to Veronica. Okay, technically it wasn’t ME who proposed; it was her now-fiancée Cameron, but it was cool. They (Cameron, a couple of his friends and family, and obviously his buddies Jack, Jim Beam, and Captain Morgan had been with the group) called me down from the tower and told me of the plan. My job was to lure an unsuspecting Veronica from the grandstands. Piece of cake: In fact, already in just this one day I had helped reunite a lost dog (Moo-Moo… don’t ask, I didn’t name the little guy) with his lost racer dad and found the owner of a lost cell phone (that was made easier by the findee asking if I recognized the photo on the screensaver as that of my son. Yep, got my wife back her phone!). Anyway, I just made a P.A. announcement that Veronica had lost some personal items, and we were getting ready to call the pawn shop and sell to the highest bidder. Man, did that work… she was there in a flash, huffing and puffing like she’d just ran a marathon. This little story has a happy ending, as Cameron did his deal, Veronica cried and hugged him, Moo-Moo got dinner at home, and Jenna still has her phone. Chock up one deposit in the old Karma bank!

Sunday we chatted with the Jennings before hitting the road. Jenna took a shot (photo, that is) of Lee Paul, Lisa, and Josh with me. Josh is so courteous, and Lee Paul might be the only guy on earth who would make Robert Hight finish second in “the-most-polite-man-in-the-universe-pageant.” Wonderful family, and I wish I could wave a wand and fix their car.

While back on the positive-mojo thing, we decided to head over and see OUR state capitol for the first time. It’s very grand looking, with some incredible trees surrounding the grounds. They must be at least 150 years old, but that didn’t stop Jason from wanting to climb them. It has to be DNA-programmed as he’s never seen kids climb trees before, but he just KNEW he had to do it. After we did a quick tour, Jenna showed her genetic disposition to get too close to the lawn sprinklers. Amazing how quickly they can get your butt wet, but I was still far too sensitive from my Friday experience to make any jokes.

Once back home, it was time to just rest up and get ready for St. Louis. In the two years that I’ve raced there, I wouldn’t exactly rave about my performance. In fact, I’ve never worked a Sunday yet at the event, so I needed to recharge and reinvigorate my inner-racer. Perhaps some manual labor would help? Jo has pretty well finished the demo in our second bathroom, and he came to me with some not-so-good news: seems there’s been some water damage around the shower stall, with several of the 2 x 4s suffering rot. Hey, what’s a few hundred dollars amongst friends? I should have let it go there! After he had left I made the mistake of walking in to see what things looked like. You know, sometimes “good enough” really is, but not for me. Even though we are selling the place eventually, I can’t let things slide by. Nope, I had to get in there and replace some wood, which required LOTS of disassembly to remove the offenders. This in turn revealed more compromised wood, which (I think you’re following me now) required extra demolition. So, after knocking out a couple hundred pounds of sheetrock, plaster, and cement wallboard (did I mention I knocked a hole through into the bedroom and Jenna wasn’t happy?), I was ready to cut, drill, and reinstall some fresh lumber. Next time, I’ll just leave the door closed and call it good, cuz now I get to practice my hole-patching and painting skills AGAIN! I’ll talk about the sub-flooring at a later date, once the checkbook heals.

Have you noticed how many people are using iPods lately? They seem to be hugely popular, and many racers wear them in the staging lanes. Well, the Cannons got me one for Christmas, and I suppose letting it age for three months should be enough. You see, I definitely am not on the “leading edge” when it comes to new gadgets. Just learning how to program it was a bit daunting, but I think I’m getting the hang of it. One thing that did occur to me, though, as I was uploaded most of my CD collection, is that 1989 seems to be about the most recent release date for the majority of my catalogue. Ah, yes, 1989: hair bands, Gary Ormsby, Bruce Larson, and Bob Glidden were all enjoying their final championships, and I was 23. The good old days!

Perhaps my trip down memory lane, along with my iPod full of “hair” and “metal” (hope it doesn’t jam the electronics inside) will give my “Karma Chameleon” (even though Boy George had long hair, you will NEVER find him on my iPod!!!!) the boost it needs to bring home some gold from St. Louis.

Stay tuned.