What's Your Hurry?

Thanks to complimentary tickets -- I'll take anything that's FREE -- I went to my first race the other day.  "Let's go, Daddy!"  How could I resist, right?  So we loaded up the van, uh, sports utility vehicle, and off we went to the race track.  "What horses did you bet on?"  Uh, I'm talking/writing about car races, okay?  Anyway, it turned out to be a fun day.  For the most part.   Especially once we knew where we were going.  You see, we took a wrong turn... "Oh oh..."  We eventually got off the race track, just avoiding oncoming Indy cars.  "Daddy, I don't think this is the parking lot."  Kids can be such worry warts... "Are you brainless?! -- or just plain stupid?!"  (and event organizers can be so hostile)  Anyway, as we looked for our seats, panic started to set in.  I was overtaken by sheer anxiety.  "Take a deep breath... Find that happy place..." I was consumed by fear, with a feeling that I'd be asked all these complicated car questions by utter strangers.  I mean, it's not that I don't know much about cars, but... I just don't know much about cars.  You see, I didn't want to get embarrassed in front of my wife and kids (I have them fooled -- they think I'm brilliant.).  Sure enough, one guy started talking to me about 'Atmo engines.'  Huh?  Another dude, who'd surely consumed a few too many adult beverages, started muttering something about 'carbon fiber.'  (I informed him that my diet includes plenty of fiber, thank you.)   But the one that really got to me was when a discussion on 'crankshafts' broke out.   Come on, really?  Not in front of the children. All I could do was exchange perplexed looks with my poor kids.  Anyway, we covered our ears and braved the roaring engines as best we could.  Then, I came to the realization that car racing is not the best influence for teen drivers.  I mean, how am I supposed to instill good driving habits in my daughter?  There the blur of cars went, round and round, wasting fuel (who can afford fuel prices these days?!).  And the speeds those cars reached, they're a dad's worst nightmare.  I've never seen my daughter's eyes light up like they did that day... "Daddy, can I drive like that?!"  Please, pretty please!"   (All the while, people around us anticipated a spectacular crash.)  Heck, my blood pressure -- and insurance rates -- shot up just worrying about my kid behind the wheel...  Finally, the outing was well worth the trip to the boonies of Fontana, I guess.  You see, I found a little something to take home as a souvenir... No harm done, if you ask me... "Hey, mister! -- come back with those tires!"  Like they can't spare a few...