My mother's going to laugh at me.
For years, the Indy 500 meant only one thing: We fought traffic along Kessler Blvd in Indianapolis every year, trying to get to Grandma's house. Grandma lived off 30th St, and so my parents would simply walk to the track and leave my sister and I with Grandma.
I don't remember how old I was when they first tried to instill some excitement about open-wheel racing, but I do remember being impressed when we arrived for Time Trials and Janet Guthrie was taking her practice laps.
I remember wandering around the track, eating hot dogs and sitting in various seats. I had a book and was bored after a while. After all, the cars only went around in a circle, and we couldn't see all the action. So what was the point? I went back to my Nancy Drew book. Even when Mom took us up to the seats at the top of the front straightaway, I complained because it was colder and windy up there.
My sister, however, was more impressed, and the next year, saved her money to prove to my father she was serious about attending the race, and purchased her own ticket from him.
I just looked at Race Day as an excuse to skip church. Even when the boy I had a crush on several years later wasn't able to come and get me! Grandma had moved to Florida by then, and I was left alone on Race Day, spending a rather boring day by myself. I've never admitted that until now.
But thankfully, I did 'come to my senses' and I love everything about the 500! Heck, I even showcased it in one of my alter-ego's books!
So....you think they'll ever let me join the Caravan of Celebrities either during pre-race festivities or even the 500 Parade?
That would be so cool! I'd get to meet Rupert from Survivor!