Memorial Weekend Part Two

Okay, back to Memorial Weekend.

After man-child's graduation ceremony, we dropped him off back home, picked up the two younger kids and beat a path out of town. We didn't officially get on the road until 12:30 pm and I was worried at how late we would be arriving in Indy.

We were set to stay with clients of mine who have become friends. Nothing says crappy house guests like arriving at midnight smelling of Cheetos and Red Bull with two cranky children in tow.

Sunday morning, we got up, showered and learned that we would be leaving for the track fairly early. I looked at Dallas and raised my eyebrows. The race didn't start until 1:00pm. I couldn't imagine what in the world we would be doing for in the four hours before the green flag was dropped.

We drove to a parking lot of some sort of gravel company located in downtown Indy. There, we met several other couples. Everyone was waiting for the police escort. Yes, you read that right. It seems that several years beforehand, our hosts had hooked up with one of Indy's finest and each year, he would escort them to the track.

"High beams on. Flashing lights on. Stick close together and keep all limbs inside the vehicle at all times."

Actually, he didn't say that last part but he should have. The officer turned on his sirens and lights and wove through the streets of downtown Indianapolis at about 50 miles an hour. Cars pulled over to the side of the road and stopped as our caravan sped by. We went through red lights and stop signs. Other police officers stationed at different points in our route stopped traffic for us. The entire ride was surreal. At one point, Olivia leaned forward and said, "Mama, are we still in America?"

As we neared the track, we could see a line of vehicles waiting to get into the parking lots. We flew by them all, bypassed the line entirely, pulled in and parked directly in front of the entrance. Dallas and I looked at each other, blinked and shook our heads in disbelief. We had never experienced anything like that before. EVER.

And it was barely 10:00 in the morning.

After having a massive pre-race tailgate brunch replete with a driver pool and absolutely the best pastry I've ever tasted, we were ready to head inside to explore. We were handed tickets and told that as newbies, we had the best seats of the bunch. Gross understatement. We were planted at the start/finish line, up in the penthouse seats, directly across from the tower, with an intimate look at pit row. UNREAL.

Nothing prepares you for the sound of thirty plus cars at full speed hitting the start line. The noise is deafening, exhilarating and the excitement that bubbles up inside raises goosepimples on your arms and leaves the hair on the nape of your neck standing straight up. I held Olivia in my arms and we both giggled and then laughed uncontrollably as the cars sped by.

Then Liv made friends with the drunk lady sitting beside us. At one point, I looked over and she was braiding said female's hair. I smiled, sipped my Coors Light and thanked God for small miracles.

There were loads of other events that made the weekend special like meeting a group of visiting Kiwis and witnessing my son at the helm of a speedboat but I suppose the best part of it all was being welcomed into the homes of our friends and treated like family.