June 23, 2004
The storm broke through with brilliant drama as the warning sirens began to sound. Bolts of lightening filled the sky while thunder chuckled quietly in its wake. Now, the rain pours down, unashamed of its omnipresence, hardly shy of its welcome over stayed and I find myself mesmerized by the night.Reflecting camly upon the morning - how it lacked my enthusiasm, shunned my excitement and wearied my heart. Yet still as I was dripping from a shower made too hot, the phone began to ring and I began to wait for a voice on my machine. Standing naked in the hallway with a towel wrapped upon my head, I heard his voice playfully plead for my presence on the other end. I quickly reached for the phone and stood before my living room window as the morning sun dried my skin. As I had feared the night before, he made his start a bit too late and missed the company to which he was to travel. His inquiry did not surprise my continuous charge of imagination and without delay I began to enter the quardinants of his desired destination in Minnesota. Brainerd International Speedway on Birchdale Road, directly off the interstate.
As I communicated the information, my cell phone danced the jazzy tune signifying the always welcome voice of Mitch Hansen, owner of HMC Racing, also on his merry way to Brainerd, Minnesota. I juggled phones and quitted both with mixed emotions as I finished preparing for my day. The territory once known so well to me, once mine with all its daring amazement, was now transferred onto him - Mr. Myers, without a hindsight glance in my direction except to say thanks for all my help. Now I lack the urgent call of which race I must next attend. I forgo the importance to which I once felt I brought to the occasion. I am without use for these victorious days of racing and HE has been marked the invaluable one. Now Mitch will shake his hand in surprise, without the worry of doting too much affection upon me, realizing his significance in the world of air/fuel ratios and of mid-range torque. Now I shall fumble over the answers the owner of LCP so wishes to hear, as I am responsible not only for the relation of his health and happiness, but also for the knowledge of his whereabouts to which another person (even he himself) cannot give.
I relinquish my title of capable Press Officer for the team, of enthusiastic spectator at the race and of faithful babysitter for Mrs. Myer's loving husband. I release myself of regret for these fine moments embedded forever in my history, for years spent in earnest ambition toward the incomplete goals that once smelled so sweet. I sought them with determination, fought for their enrichment and learned more along the way than I could have ever hoped for alone. Each proclaimed me a shining star for what moments were available to their disposal and to their pleasure, but now is the time for all hearts greater in worth to seek the stars within themselves. Within myself, whatever it takes, no matter who may share my thoughts.
Thanks for having me along for the ride - however brief, however grand, however bittersweet the end. I cherish it all, for it is life and I always seem to find myself mesmorized by its unfading glory.
