This year, I went for the first time to the Indianapolis 500 race on Memorial Day weekend. It was so hot, I think I baked off some brain cells. I had no idea it could get that hot in the midwest unless you were detasseling corn. The crowds were wild, the race was intense, and I got to cheer for an Andretti. My assimilation into Hoosier life has progressed a notch.
As part of my continuing education, I also read Jack Arute's Tales from the Indy 500 (ISBN 1-59670-040-8). While by no means mentally taxing, the book was interesting to me, as new to racing as I am. The narrative style is reminiscent of a particularly worldly 8th grader, and the story-snippets are strung together quilt-like so that any attempt to discern a narrative progression is easily foiled. However, this lent itself well to an extended stay on the tank-top in the smallest room. Arute clearly has a fondness for A.J. Foyt, and I did feel like I understood Foyt a little better after reading some of the vignettes.
Ok. I'm off to refine my racing knowledge now.
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