As many of you may know, a woman recently lost her camera on a trip to Hawaii and started blogging about it. In particular, this post seemed to draw a number of comments like "Oh, I'm so embarrassed that they're Canadian", or "Hey, not all Canadians are like these two", or even one fellow who felt the need to speculate that the U.S. needed to have another skyscraper destroyed because it makes good TV.
Leaving the last nut aside for the minute, this kind of talk takes me back to the run-up to the 2004 election, where Natalie Maines of the Dixie Chicks felt the need to inform a London crowd, "Just so you know, we're ashamed the President of the United States is from Texas". This incident has been analyzed, dissected, shouted about and written about before. I never quite understood why they thought there wouldn't be any backlash from it. Is there some disease that affects celebrities such that they believe that everyone, everywhere is going to treat what they say as the One and Only Truth?
Anyway, it led me to think that a lot of people seem to feel the need to function as apologists for their countrypeople (or really, other members of whatever group they happen to be part of). I was no more ashamed to be a white American male between 25 and 35 when Tim McVeigh blew up the Murrah building than I was the day prior. Why not? Because McVeigh's crime was (at least partly) against my group, in addition to him being part of my group. I knew that the vast majority of other white American males between 25 and 35 would look at his behavior as non-representative, and with that "insulation", I felt no need to create distance by apologizing for my group.
I guess the issue is pride. "We believe our group (Americans, Texans, whatever) is so wonderful", the logic seems to go, "that anyone from it is endowed by their Creator with an inalienable aura of wonderfulness, incapable of causing offense to anyone." And when someone from that group turns out to be a turd in the toilet of life, we're shocked, SHOCKED that one of us could act in that fashion, and it embarrasses us so much that we quickly scramble to apologize to them. When the offense by a member of our group targets someone who is not in our group, we get nervous. We worry about what the other group will think of us. We worry that the other group is not as enlightened as us, not as capable of distinguishing grey as we are. We worry that the offending member will be regarded as representative of our group, and that our group will be held responsible for that person's acts.
Human beings are, at their basest level, little better than animals. Their ability to engage in asocial behavior is not inherent in their nationality, ethnicity, faith, physical features, etc., it's inherent in their genes. Ultimately, we're all part of one group: human beings. True, society shapes people, and provides them incentives to overcome their baser nature. And certainly there are national, ethnic, faith and other elements to society. But if I reach into a bag of 300 million peanut M&Ms and get a green one of a particular shape, who's to blame if I assume that all 299,999,999 remaining M&Ms will be exactly the same? The M&M? The remaining M&Ms? Or me?
Monday, March 27, 2006
A noble spirit embiggens the smallest man
Props to The Simpsons for the title. I figured since I spent the weekend in Springfield, it was apropos.
Growing up, my sister L and I always celebrated our birthdays together. Our birthdays are two days apart (she's a year younger), and since we were a large family, I'm sure the tradition started out having as much to do with wanting to economize as with L and I being close. Since the birthday child got to pick their favorite dish for their birthday dinner (and of course, the requisite cake and ice cream), it was probably easier to get L and I to agree on birthday dinner (as I recall, we always both chose lasagna) than it was to afford two birthday dinners, cake and ice cream in the space of one week.
Well, about a week and a half ago, my brother-in-law hatched the idea to have me come up to the mid-way point between us and celebrate the birthdays (which were last Sunday, and this past Tuesday). He had gotten the weekend off work, and L didn't know. So, he was going to concoct a story that would have them going to Springfield for some reason, without mentioning me, and have me showing up be a surprise. I suggested that our brother T might want to come up too, and we started planning. We set a meeting place and time, and I made hotel reservations on Hotwire. (As it turns out, Hotwire saved me only about $4 per room over the hotel's normal rates).
The drive up was uneventful, and in a bit of luck, even though T and I were running about an hour behind, so were D & L, so we actually got to the Bass Pro Shop first (D's excuse being that he wanted to look at boats). Regretting our decision not to be more specific about meeting places (the paintball section was mentioned, but never cemented as the place to meet), T and I started wandering the store, hoping to come up behind them and call L on her cel. As it turns out, we were heading toward the main entrance when I spotted D&L. It took L a few seconds to process the image, and she just said "No. Way." Not quite perfect, but better than I figured we'd do.
After we wandered around Bass Pro for a while (for a guy who hates fishing, I sure like boats), we decided to check in at the hotel. After asking the cute clerk where the fun places in Springfield are, we cleaned up and went out to dinner. The place we chose (a Lone Star steakhouse) was a bit crowded, so we had to wait. This young fellow with some Chinese characters tattooed on his neck was bitching at his wife (I think we determined they were married) about the wait, and how they wouldn't be waiting if she hadn't decided she was hungry, and didn't choose that place, and just on and on. It turned out they were seated near us, and we allllllmost told our waitress that it was the guy's birthday, just to screw with his head a little bit and maybe jerk him out of the jackass mood he was in (no, I haven't successfully figured out why we gave a rat's ass...it just seemed important to rescue his wife from his bad attitude). We didn't, but after they'd left, we let the waitress in on why we were giggling when she passed by. I think she'd already decided we were nuts when T followed her "Hi, I'm ____, I'll be your waitress tonight" with "Hi, I'm T, and this is C, L and D" and I broke in with, "And he'll be your idiot tonight."
Based on the hotel clerk and our waitress, Cowboys 2000 was the most fun you can have with everyone remaining clothed. It was big, and marginally a Country/Western club, but when we walked in, the Black-eyed Peas' "My Humps" was playing. Oh, and the entire back 1/3 of the place is a bull-ring, and they had live bull-riding Saturday night. When we go out in and around my hometown, D knows a lot of people, so he's usually making the rounds, catching up with friends, and he and L will occasionally dance. T is more often to be found in C&W bars, and apparently gets his dance on fairly easily. Me, I just drink, hoping to get drunk enough to dance, which usually leads to a hangover I don't deserve. Well, being that we were in a strange town, D didn't have much to do, and since he's down a lung (surgically removed last year to remove cancer), the way he and L generally dance would probably have exhausted him (I'm sure there's a name for the style, but it's kinda a frenetic swing style, very fast, very dangerous-looking). T didn't seem to see anyone he wanted to approach to dance with, and I was too busy trying to figure out if taking a shot from the waitress's navel would be possible. So, we ended up drinking and watching, which mostly meant commenting on the weight or dance skills of some of the girls on the dance floor, but did get a bit interesting when they couldn't get the last bull of the night out of the ring and back to the pen.
Much like the old dude at the races, I was inclined to go easier on the girls. Yes, some of them were quite large, and made some questionable fashion choices (in particular, the flouncy pleated white miniskirt was probably a bad choice for its wearer), but I gotta figure they were having way more fun than we were. I did have a good time, but drinking and people-watching is my idea of a good time sometimes. The big thing stopping me (because I did get drunk enough) was not knowing which girls were there as singles (or in a pack of other girls) and which were there with men that might not appreciate my attention to their girl. Yeah, I can be a big puss sometimes.
Sleeping until 10:00 AM Sunday was great. I think it's the longest night's sleep on the CPAP I've gotten, and according to T, I don't seem to snore anymore. Woo-hoo!
OH! and for those who were curious...going through Oklahoma, we spotted a few restaurants of the chain that sponsored the "chicken" cars that T and I were fans of at the races. It's Charlie's Chicken and BBQ, and seems to be mostly an Oklahoma chain (as I recall, the drivers were Okies) with a handful of franchises in AR, KS, and MO. Ironically enough, the two MO locations are both in Springfield.
Wonder if they serve primarily flatmeats?
Growing up, my sister L and I always celebrated our birthdays together. Our birthdays are two days apart (she's a year younger), and since we were a large family, I'm sure the tradition started out having as much to do with wanting to economize as with L and I being close. Since the birthday child got to pick their favorite dish for their birthday dinner (and of course, the requisite cake and ice cream), it was probably easier to get L and I to agree on birthday dinner (as I recall, we always both chose lasagna) than it was to afford two birthday dinners, cake and ice cream in the space of one week.
Well, about a week and a half ago, my brother-in-law hatched the idea to have me come up to the mid-way point between us and celebrate the birthdays (which were last Sunday, and this past Tuesday). He had gotten the weekend off work, and L didn't know. So, he was going to concoct a story that would have them going to Springfield for some reason, without mentioning me, and have me showing up be a surprise. I suggested that our brother T might want to come up too, and we started planning. We set a meeting place and time, and I made hotel reservations on Hotwire. (As it turns out, Hotwire saved me only about $4 per room over the hotel's normal rates).
The drive up was uneventful, and in a bit of luck, even though T and I were running about an hour behind, so were D & L, so we actually got to the Bass Pro Shop first (D's excuse being that he wanted to look at boats). Regretting our decision not to be more specific about meeting places (the paintball section was mentioned, but never cemented as the place to meet), T and I started wandering the store, hoping to come up behind them and call L on her cel. As it turns out, we were heading toward the main entrance when I spotted D&L. It took L a few seconds to process the image, and she just said "No. Way." Not quite perfect, but better than I figured we'd do.
After we wandered around Bass Pro for a while (for a guy who hates fishing, I sure like boats), we decided to check in at the hotel. After asking the cute clerk where the fun places in Springfield are, we cleaned up and went out to dinner. The place we chose (a Lone Star steakhouse) was a bit crowded, so we had to wait. This young fellow with some Chinese characters tattooed on his neck was bitching at his wife (I think we determined they were married) about the wait, and how they wouldn't be waiting if she hadn't decided she was hungry, and didn't choose that place, and just on and on. It turned out they were seated near us, and we allllllmost told our waitress that it was the guy's birthday, just to screw with his head a little bit and maybe jerk him out of the jackass mood he was in (no, I haven't successfully figured out why we gave a rat's ass...it just seemed important to rescue his wife from his bad attitude). We didn't, but after they'd left, we let the waitress in on why we were giggling when she passed by. I think she'd already decided we were nuts when T followed her "Hi, I'm ____, I'll be your waitress tonight" with "Hi, I'm T, and this is C, L and D" and I broke in with, "And he'll be your idiot tonight."
Based on the hotel clerk and our waitress, Cowboys 2000 was the most fun you can have with everyone remaining clothed. It was big, and marginally a Country/Western club, but when we walked in, the Black-eyed Peas' "My Humps" was playing. Oh, and the entire back 1/3 of the place is a bull-ring, and they had live bull-riding Saturday night. When we go out in and around my hometown, D knows a lot of people, so he's usually making the rounds, catching up with friends, and he and L will occasionally dance. T is more often to be found in C&W bars, and apparently gets his dance on fairly easily. Me, I just drink, hoping to get drunk enough to dance, which usually leads to a hangover I don't deserve. Well, being that we were in a strange town, D didn't have much to do, and since he's down a lung (surgically removed last year to remove cancer), the way he and L generally dance would probably have exhausted him (I'm sure there's a name for the style, but it's kinda a frenetic swing style, very fast, very dangerous-looking). T didn't seem to see anyone he wanted to approach to dance with, and I was too busy trying to figure out if taking a shot from the waitress's navel would be possible. So, we ended up drinking and watching, which mostly meant commenting on the weight or dance skills of some of the girls on the dance floor, but did get a bit interesting when they couldn't get the last bull of the night out of the ring and back to the pen.
Much like the old dude at the races, I was inclined to go easier on the girls. Yes, some of them were quite large, and made some questionable fashion choices (in particular, the flouncy pleated white miniskirt was probably a bad choice for its wearer), but I gotta figure they were having way more fun than we were. I did have a good time, but drinking and people-watching is my idea of a good time sometimes. The big thing stopping me (because I did get drunk enough) was not knowing which girls were there as singles (or in a pack of other girls) and which were there with men that might not appreciate my attention to their girl. Yeah, I can be a big puss sometimes.
Sleeping until 10:00 AM Sunday was great. I think it's the longest night's sleep on the CPAP I've gotten, and according to T, I don't seem to snore anymore. Woo-hoo!
OH! and for those who were curious...going through Oklahoma, we spotted a few restaurants of the chain that sponsored the "chicken" cars that T and I were fans of at the races. It's Charlie's Chicken and BBQ, and seems to be mostly an Oklahoma chain (as I recall, the drivers were Okies) with a handful of franchises in AR, KS, and MO. Ironically enough, the two MO locations are both in Springfield.
Wonder if they serve primarily flatmeats?
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Silencing the Critic
(Hopefully, part 1 of several)
Well, the religion question is now more or less moot. Turns out J (the woman) is in the process of converting to Catholic (I was wrong guessing Southern Baptist...she grew up Methodist), and is shopping around churches. Additionally, she's more of a traditionalist Catholic, very much like me (well, when I'm practicing, anyway). We both don't have much patience for the praise music and hand-holding (I think of it as the Protestantization of the Catholic Mass), and prefer our churches somber, structured, and actually housed in a real actual church building, with pews and kneelers. For those of you familiar with UML, J and I agree on the definitions of the stereotypes «priest», «church», and «mass» (fitting, since I met her in a UML class I was teaching).
Further interestingly, she's going to be going this weekend to the church my friend D got married in New Year's Eve (see my January 1 post), which is one of the candidates I've been considering. If I weren't going to be in MO this weekend, it'd be a perfect time to check it out myself. As it is, I told J she'd have to let me know what she thinks, since we seem religiously compatible. (See Resolutions 2006).
Well, the religion question is now more or less moot. Turns out J (the woman) is in the process of converting to Catholic (I was wrong guessing Southern Baptist...she grew up Methodist), and is shopping around churches. Additionally, she's more of a traditionalist Catholic, very much like me (well, when I'm practicing, anyway). We both don't have much patience for the praise music and hand-holding (I think of it as the Protestantization of the Catholic Mass), and prefer our churches somber, structured, and actually housed in a real actual church building, with pews and kneelers. For those of you familiar with UML, J and I agree on the definitions of the stereotypes «priest», «church», and «mass» (fitting, since I met her in a UML class I was teaching).
Further interestingly, she's going to be going this weekend to the church my friend D got married in New Year's Eve (see my January 1 post), which is one of the candidates I've been considering. If I weren't going to be in MO this weekend, it'd be a perfect time to check it out myself. As it is, I told J she'd have to let me know what she thinks, since we seem religiously compatible. (See Resolutions 2006).
Wow.
Earlier this evening, I had my date with J, the cute blonde mentioned in the last two posts. (Side note: It seems I know a lot of people who have 'J' as their first initial.) I was a little apprehensive this morning, because she IM'ed me and said that she'd realized Monday night that she's not quite over the effects of breaking up with her ex-boyfriend, and didn't think she was ready to date right now. Me, being Mr. Flexible, countered with the notion that for me, we'd have to start out as friends to begin with, and as long as we weren't totally shutting the door on her and I dating, I was cool with just hanging out. After which, I asked her if she was free to hang out tonight.
So, we had our Not-A-Date at a local sports bar/restaurant. I procured us some billiard balls and a couple of drinks, and we proceeded to talk for over an hour without even racking up the balls. Damn, she's cute. Tall, feminine, and utterly cute. She was telling me she can get up an hour before she needs to be at work because she doesn't fuss with hair or makeup. And yet, wow! We're pretty similar, it turns out. Our musical tastes aren't really all that well aligned, but she doesn't listen to anything I absolutely can't stand. She's an engineer, but not one of the socially-retarded kind (I view myself as a high-functioning social retard). So far (on the evidence of two games of 8-ball), she's better than me at pool, though she seems cursed to scratch on the 8-ball, so I technically won both games. Since I left at least three balls on the table each time, I have to count those as victories for her.
She said she had to leave by around 8:00 to do some work for a relative, so at around 7:00 I suggested we have dinner in the restaurant portion of the bar. We talked all through dinner. I don't think I've ever felt as immediately at ease conversationally with someone. I take that back...there was a girl in college, A, who I had a similar rapport with. Interestingly enough, A is the first woman I seriously proposed to, even knowing she'd turn me down (given that she was engaged to another fellow at the time). A's been married for like 15 years now, with two little girls, so I guess she made an okay choice.
I know I'm getting ahead of myself, and I'm probably setting up for a fall, but I really like this girl. I'm enchanted, entranced, enraptured...and my ex-wife felt the need to call my cel phone THREE TIMES during dinner before finally just leaving a message. To my credit, I didn't take any of the calls, and it was no big damn deal, but S just can't seem to stand me not being where she thinks I should be. Hell-OOOOO, we're divorced, and I didn't know about her new boyfriend until the week he moved in with her, so I really don't feel the need to be where S thinks I should be all the damn time.
We ended up being so engrossed in talking that we lost track of time a bit, and didn't end up leaving unti 8:30. I told her I had a great time, and was really looking forward to hanging out again, and we parted.
And now, the analytical portion of my brain will have a go, listing possible incompatibilities:
So, we had our Not-A-Date at a local sports bar/restaurant. I procured us some billiard balls and a couple of drinks, and we proceeded to talk for over an hour without even racking up the balls. Damn, she's cute. Tall, feminine, and utterly cute. She was telling me she can get up an hour before she needs to be at work because she doesn't fuss with hair or makeup. And yet, wow! We're pretty similar, it turns out. Our musical tastes aren't really all that well aligned, but she doesn't listen to anything I absolutely can't stand. She's an engineer, but not one of the socially-retarded kind (I view myself as a high-functioning social retard). So far (on the evidence of two games of 8-ball), she's better than me at pool, though she seems cursed to scratch on the 8-ball, so I technically won both games. Since I left at least three balls on the table each time, I have to count those as victories for her.
She said she had to leave by around 8:00 to do some work for a relative, so at around 7:00 I suggested we have dinner in the restaurant portion of the bar. We talked all through dinner. I don't think I've ever felt as immediately at ease conversationally with someone. I take that back...there was a girl in college, A, who I had a similar rapport with. Interestingly enough, A is the first woman I seriously proposed to, even knowing she'd turn me down (given that she was engaged to another fellow at the time). A's been married for like 15 years now, with two little girls, so I guess she made an okay choice.
I know I'm getting ahead of myself, and I'm probably setting up for a fall, but I really like this girl. I'm enchanted, entranced, enraptured...and my ex-wife felt the need to call my cel phone THREE TIMES during dinner before finally just leaving a message. To my credit, I didn't take any of the calls, and it was no big damn deal, but S just can't seem to stand me not being where she thinks I should be. Hell-OOOOO, we're divorced, and I didn't know about her new boyfriend until the week he moved in with her, so I really don't feel the need to be where S thinks I should be all the damn time.
We ended up being so engrossed in talking that we lost track of time a bit, and didn't end up leaving unti 8:30. I told her I had a great time, and was really looking forward to hanging out again, and we parted.
And now, the analytical portion of my brain will have a go, listing possible incompatibilities:
- She seemed interested that I grew up Catholic, but didn't make any comment other than that. Of course, it came up in the context of me coming from a large family, and she said her second guess would have been Mormon, so maybe it's just a stereotype thing. I didn't quiz her on her religion, but since she's a Texas girl, born and raised, my guess is probably Southern Baptist.
- I am eleven years older than she is. Not necessarily a problem, as she seems to have a history of dating older men (what brief history I got).
- I have a 10-year-old daughter. Again, she seemed interested the few times that Daughter came up conversationally, and didn't seem at all fazed by it, so maybe a non-issue.
- She might have assumed I was trying to get a peek down her blouse while we were playing. I was really doing everything I could to avoid that impression, focusing on the target pocket rather than her while she lined up shots, etc., but the top she was wearing was...generously cut. Certainly a desirable view, but she might have assumed I was focusing there, rather than getting accidental glances.
- I may seem too "into" her to be trusted to stay "just friends" until she decides she's ready to date again. Not that I made it a secret, though I think she knows she's attractive. I did tell her that in my opinion, the difference between "hanging out" and a "date" at this point was whether I'd try to kiss her at the end of the evening. (No, I did not. Wanted to REALLY REALLY bad, but didn't even do a "test lean-in".)
Okay, enough from the Critic. I'm calling this one a Win, and I'm very much inclined to keep playing.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
I did...She will. Wooo-hooooooo!!
The cute blonde woman I mentioned earlier? I nutted up, IM'ed her, and got a date.
Go me!
Go me!
2 Months - Jan 15 to Mar 15.
25 pounds in 2 months.
Admittedly, I have not been the poster-boy for Medifast. But even when I'm behaving, progress is slower than I'd like, and more importantly, slower than J managed.
Wonder if the cute blonde from the class I taught Monday and Tuesday would go out with me. She seemed to like my sense of humor.
Wonder if I'll ever get the nerve to find out...
Admittedly, I have not been the poster-boy for Medifast. But even when I'm behaving, progress is slower than I'd like, and more importantly, slower than J managed.
Wonder if the cute blonde from the class I taught Monday and Tuesday would go out with me. She seemed to like my sense of humor.
Wonder if I'll ever get the nerve to find out...
Thursday, March 09, 2006
They're getting better, but thank God, not by much...
I got this email today from a phisher, and it was well enough done (at first glance) to give me pause. Here's what's wrong with it:
1) Clearly, their spoofer doesn't do well with dates, otherwise, I'm WAAAAY behind on getting this email (sent in 2000? get real)
2) As usual, the official-looking, safe-looking URL really doesn't lead to the secure website the message promised. In this case, it goes to the less-safe looking (and non-secure) http://banking-jpmchase.com (please, readers, justify my faith in your smarts and don't click the link - yeah, I know it's like telling Stimpy not to press the History Eraser Button, but fight the urge).
3) The grammar isn't up to "Corporate America" standards. The seemingly random placement of commas, the misplaced plural, the "Jpmorgan" instead of J.P. Morgan, and the atrocious blurb about how safe you are banking with Chase are all big red flags.
4) And let's not forget the Big-Daddy-Don-Garlits of them all...if this is from my bank, and they know my account number, why am I addressed as "customer" (in lower-case, no less) instead of by my name? [Note: they didn't actually have my account number, but they did include a number that was supposed to look like an account number in the subject line.]
However, I am glad that once they're done stealing my information, they'll direct me back to the "actual Online Access Agreement".
There's something almost insidious about the "covered 100%" blurb. It's almost like they're making it sound okay for them to steal your information, because you won't be held responsible for it. So, go ahead! Click on the link and let them hoover up your identity. It won't be your fault.
When you know what to look for, these are almost laughable. The frightening part is that I'm the only one in my family (except maybe brother T) who knows what to look for. But then, I'm the only one who conducts a significant amount of his financial life online so far.
If I could just get everyone to stop forwarding the damn "send this along to everyone you know and ______ will happen" (where _____ is "you have true friends", "Jesus will love you", "Maryann Wizzleteats will get a new spleen", "somebody will send you a $50 gift card", "Yahoo won't shut down their instant messenger service", etc.) emails and IMs, I'd be a happier person.
Surf safely, folks.
Monday, March 06, 2006
Boogity! Boogity! Boogity! Let's go racin', boys!
Okay, so I'm not Darrell Waltrip, and it wasn't NASCAR, but I had a blast this weekend at Texas Motor Speedway for the Pro-Cuts Texas World Dirt Track Championships.
It was loud.
It was smelly.
It was dirty.
I loved every second of it! There is just something about a field of 20-30 modifieds rumbling (literally, vibrate-your-chest-cavity rumbling) past the Start/Finish in a rolling start. DAMN! Almost puts me half-mast just thinking about it.
In addition to the modifieds, they ran SUPR Late Model cars, with Kenny Schrader driving the #99 Pro-Cuts/Red Baron car. For some reason, my brother and I became fans of the #9 and #427 "chicken" cars, which were sponsored by a chicken restaurant chain. I forget the exact chain, because the only thing that will come into my head is "Clyde Torkle Chicken Pit Special".
Of course, the best part was this older fellow who happened to be sitting in front of us both evenings. This guy was jazzed!!! He was jumping up and down, waving the cars around, yelling instructions, yelling stuff up to the track announcer... He was having 10 times more fun than anyone around him. My brother was kinda annoyed with him, but I thought it was awesome. Clearly, this guy loves racing. I get the impression he maybe was a driver at some point, and he made some mention of working on engines for at least one of the competitors, but even if all he is is a big fan, he's a guy who knows how to enjoy a race.
Really, if you weren't there, any description of the races themselves I'd try to offer would just fall flat, so I'm not even going to try. But I've already marked my calendar for next year. :-) Haircut in mid-February, races the first weekend in March.
As for the diet, I'm going to quote Daughter:
"I don't want to talk about it".
It was loud.
It was smelly.
It was dirty.
I loved every second of it! There is just something about a field of 20-30 modifieds rumbling (literally, vibrate-your-chest-cavity rumbling) past the Start/Finish in a rolling start. DAMN! Almost puts me half-mast just thinking about it.
In addition to the modifieds, they ran SUPR Late Model cars, with Kenny Schrader driving the #99 Pro-Cuts/Red Baron car. For some reason, my brother and I became fans of the #9 and #427 "chicken" cars, which were sponsored by a chicken restaurant chain. I forget the exact chain, because the only thing that will come into my head is "Clyde Torkle Chicken Pit Special".
Of course, the best part was this older fellow who happened to be sitting in front of us both evenings. This guy was jazzed!!! He was jumping up and down, waving the cars around, yelling instructions, yelling stuff up to the track announcer... He was having 10 times more fun than anyone around him. My brother was kinda annoyed with him, but I thought it was awesome. Clearly, this guy loves racing. I get the impression he maybe was a driver at some point, and he made some mention of working on engines for at least one of the competitors, but even if all he is is a big fan, he's a guy who knows how to enjoy a race.
Really, if you weren't there, any description of the races themselves I'd try to offer would just fall flat, so I'm not even going to try. But I've already marked my calendar for next year. :-) Haircut in mid-February, races the first weekend in March.
As for the diet, I'm going to quote Daughter:
"I don't want to talk about it".
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