the ark of mark

Hi, I’m Mark!  You might remember from such blog posts as the one where I saw a Weinermobile, or made a fool of myself, or perhaps both.

It has been a while since our last visit.  I have not been suffering from writer’s block.  I have been suffering from a lack of interest.  I might very well have had lots to write about, but I just didn’t feel like writing anything at all.

How are you?  I am fine.

Since our last visit I have been on an adventure.  And I mean a real adventure that would qualify as an adventure in the general sense, and not just in the watered-down sense that applies just to me.  For example, anything that requires standing in line pretty much qualifies as an adventure for me.

I seek and enjoy a quiet life.

On Friday my dad flew into town in his very own airplane to pick me up.  We then jetted (or more accurately, propellered) down to Charlotte to visit my sister, Cheri.  Cheri loves NASCAR and has some friends with connections.  I would love to thank those friends by name, but they might rather not have their names listed publicly as doing such favors.

Plus also this blog probably needs more readers to even qualify as “public.”

So here’s what we did on Saturday.  Around lunchtime we went on a tour of the Hendrick Motorsports complex.  Besides the normal tourist areas, we got to see places where NO PHOTOGRAPHY IS ALLOWED.  I probably shouldn’t say too much about those particular areas lest large guys in jackets festooned with corporate logos show up and ring our doorbell with a tire iron.  Let’s just say that the race shop of the leading teams in NASCAR (Jimmie Johnson, Jeff Gordon, Mark Martin, and Dale Earnhardt, Jr.) are a notch or two above Cooter’s garage in The Dukes of Hazzard.  You could eat off the floor of Hendrick’s garage, but you’d feel guilty about getting crumbs on it.

After the tour we went to Lowe’s Motor Speedway well before the race  We got to walk up and down pit road and right by the open garages where engines were loudly being checked out.  Christian music star Toby Mac was doing a live concert in turn 4.  We strolled by driver Bobby Labonte sitting in a golf cart with his wife as they watched the concert on the track apron.

Oh, and the actual race on this unseasonably chilly October night?  We watched it from a heated suite.  I told you Cheri’s friends have connections.  But what I really need to tell you about is the pre-race drivers’ meeting.

We got to go to the pre-race drivers’ meeting.

Have you ever felt like you had walked into a book or movie and were no longer in the real world?  That’s what the driver’s meeting was like.  I’ve been watching NASCAR since 1997 so all the drivers and crew chiefs seem like TV characters and not real people.  And there I was milling around with maybe 200 Joe Shmoes like me while the drivers sat and listened to a few instructions about the upcoming race.  (“Fellas, we’re going to stick with counter-clockwise again this week”).

Don’t believe me?  Here’s a poor quality photo I took of Dale Earnhardt, Jr. his own self:

Seeing all these guys was simply surreal.  Richard Petty was there with his big hat and sunglasses.  Richard Petty should not exist in flesh and blood.  My brain processed seeing Richard Petty in person similarly to how it would process being in the same room as Batman.  It just didn’t feel right.

Some say one’s true character is revealed in a high pressure situation.  If so, I’m not quite happy about what transpired next.

After the meeting we were making our way to the door after most of the drivers had gone.  I looked over and something caught my eye.  There, in her gleaming white fire suit, was Miss Sprint Cup.  For those of you not into NASCAR culture, I should explain that Sprint sponsors NASCAR’s top racing series.  The trophy is called the Sprint Cup.  Miss Sprint Cup is an attractive young lady who stands behind the race winner each week on TV in her Sprint fire suit and smiles.  And smiles some more.

So there she was.  Another character in the movie into which I was currently trespassing.  I joked to Cheri that I should mimic the scene in Say Anything when Lloyd Dobler pauses briefly behind Diane Court so that a friend can snap a photo that makes it look like he was hanging out with her.  I really wanted that picture.  It’s not that I’m obsessed with Miss Sprint Cup (I already have dozens of photos of me next to my beautiful wife), it’s just that Miss Sprint Cup is so recognizable and I’m so uncool that it would be objectively funny for a picture of me beside her to exist.

Cheri said I should just go ask her to take a picture with me.  She was just standing there talking to people like us.  I hesitated.  Then another dorky guy just walked up and asked her if he could get a picture with her.  She smiled the TV smile and happily went along.  Cheri all but pushed me forward.  All I needed to do was say, “Excuse me, would you mind having another quick picture taken?”  The poor girl is probably contractually obligated to be friendly, after all.

But I choked.  Wouldn’t do it.  Didn’t want to impose.  So I went online and found Miss Sprint Cup on Facebook and grabbed a picture of her standing next to some other random guy that could have been me.  You’ll have to use your imagination:

Miss Sprint Cup and a Random Guy

I regretted my lack of intestinal fortitude before we’d even left the room.  I knew that next time such a unique opportunity arose, I could not fall short.  I would come through.  Who would’ve guessed that in less than sixty seconds I would happen across another well-known figure, even more recognizable than Miss Sprint Cup?

This time, I did not crumble under the pressure:

Mark and Count Chocula

So I ended up with a picture of me standing next to Count Chocula instead of Miss Sprint Cup.  Upon reviewing the photo and noticing the angular features and prominent chin, this was probably a better match anyway.