Most you already know how that first indelible Indy experience has set me on this path of fandom, but for those who haven’t heard the tale, it resides here as the second of a two-part post in this journal and also a more general view of it here, and then there’s a whole bunch of Indy posts that begin here and follow through the month of May 2009.
May has arrived, my camping passes and race tickets are in hand, and my group is ready. Save for the serious build-up of qualifying, loading up our campers, and departing our beloved Goshen, this is the time of quiet anticipation – passing the next two weeks by pretending to be occupied with other things, all the while hearing the sounds of Mays past. Sounds like the warming of the engines, an immense crowd’s ambient din, Tom Carnegie’s voice, Jim Nabors singing, the Purdue band, the Command to start engines… and the sound of a little second hand tick-tick-ticking a steady pace, which reminds me I am a little way from being in my seats.
I enjoy reading other’s posts regarding their first Indy experience and what it means to them. I find mine has similar meaning and having that shared experience at totally unrelated times shows the depth of what the Indy experience means. I also find a kinship present with those people whom I’ve never met.
It truly is a great experience from my youth and one that I appreciate more as time goes on. I intend to take my kids to their first raceday in the next two or three years, before they’ve developed that teen tendency to reject all things their parents like. With any luck, my kids will get half the enjoyment from it that I will, and, if that day leaves them with the lifelong impressions I had, I’ve done my job as a father.