This weekend, I had the opportunity to attend the Brickyard 400 Allstate 400 at the Brickyard at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway (the naming of these events is getting out of control… that is for another day). As I spent my day watching those around me, I noticed one thing in particular… if a helicopter is landing, we will watch with great anticipation. Only to find out that the step-daughter of a radio show call-in winner who (who was either savvy enough to dial at the right time, or too stupid to dial the numbers faster) gets to fly to races while me and my amazingly developed calf muscles get to park a mile away and traipse through hobo urine. That’s it.
No great truth that will spawn thought by modern man for generations. Just the knowledge that mullets, Bud Light and brightly colored T-shirts indicate a distinct interest in rotationary flying machines.
Were there gobs of people who felt the need to announce the imminent landing of the helicopter to everyone around them? “LOOK! A helicopter is landing!” As if NO ONE else noticed the 8,000 pound hunk of metal with the spinney-gig and eardrum-piercing decibel level hovering above them.
Dodging hobo urine puddles should be its own sport in Speedway on non race days, it can be the ‘XTREME version of freestyle walking. You would receive extra points for any mullet photos you can snap while avoiding the puddles. On a side note, Mountain Dew is already fighting to be the first sponsor.