The Little Things

It's TLT that make life interesting. I've been fighting with my mouse (computer variety, no hair included) for so long, it's crankiness no longer registered on my annoyance chart. Until one day, I said "Self, this is silly. The World of Mouse has progressed since you bought this creaky, cranky critter. Go shopping." I'm proud to say a cool little mouse with all sorts of tricks up its roller ball (is that what it's called?), wireless to boot, works its little guts out for me. I love it! Why did I stick by my old standby for so long?

I think, in over analyzing it, it's because I want the same work environment. Even the chaos scattered around me has a method to it. Shuffle the order of one pile, and I'm instantly clueless. Shift another stack, and my favorite pen disappears. Lord help me, if I can't find my favorite pen. Forty others, all perfectly respectable and ink-filled, stick their noses out of the Mark Martin cup to my left, but that trusty good one, the one I trust, must be readily available to my right, just in front of the printer, hooked to its notebook filled with pages of ideas and plotting notes. Searching for something, anything, jerks me out of the writing frame of mind.

I must now switch topics and eat my words about COT racing. Yesterday's bloodbath at Dover was incredible. I don't know who or what went haywire (although Kyle Petty blames Denny Hamlin, without a doubt), but cars were bouncing around and off each other like crazy. Those who survived must feel like gladiators who lived to fight another day. Even pit row guys got carted to the hospital - the 55 gas can man was lucky that the tire that hit him didn't take his head off. I'll bet there'll be a lot of overtime for the fabricators, who have to put bodies back on the wounded Car of Tomorrow. BTW, when will they be the COT, Car of Today?

The Chase Begins!

The Richmond race was spectacular - only way to describe the whole evening. Montoya's engine on fire, Carl and Junior's engines blowing up with spectacular white contrails, Gordon fighting for the lead. Johnson's charge from "what happened to Jimmie?" to the fore. Loved it. The COT still isn't my favorite race, but at least it was under the lights with all its attendant magic.

The Busch race the night before was a snoozer - it's never a lot of fun when all the Cup guys raid the Busch ranks and play to win. In fact, Kyle Busch dominated the night, so much so, we called it an early evening and got out of the parking lot before the hoards descended.

Met a lot of nice people - the guys parked next to us Saturday in the lot, the couple running Ward Burton's merchandise trailer. Despite the heat and humidity, we survived.

My daughter gave me a new iPod Shuffle to wear when I walk in the mornings. I'm a convert, I must admit. Listening to Buddy Guy sing "Lay, Lady, Lay" as I chug along makes me smile. I just hope no one hears me singing harmony. Sad, really sad.

Racin' the Way it Should Be!

We're off to the Richmond race - the one that'll cinch the Chase. Junior fans abound, and it'll be interesting to see if he can pull off a win. Even if he does, Harvick has to DNF. Long odds . . .

At least it won't be raining, thank goodness. The college crowd is descending for the race (all Kasey Kahne fans, of course), and I've planned enough food to feed an army. Or college sophomores. That's half the fun of the race - the tailgating parties at Richmond. Everyone is friendly, and chatting about drivers and races helps pass the time until the night race.

I'll have lots of good pictures to upload, I hope. Taking some reading I've meant to get to - Thirteen Bags Full came highly recommended. My work on "voice" for a talk at the VRW meeting next week has made me highly conscious of how other authors achieve it. It'll be interesting to see if voice translates well from another language.