Primping has begun

The Indy 500 is three short weeks away.... and primping has begun.

No doubt in Indianapolis there are sounds of cars every day, the city is getting ready for hundreds of thousands of people to swarm into their city and stores all over the county are checking to make sure their supply of coolers is ready for the increase in sales for race weekend.

Here in Utah I am starting my tan, checking to make sure I have a suitable wardrobe that still fits me and no doubt getting VERY EXCITED.

Race weekend is always a fun one. Its a weekend filled with a connection between my DNA and a world that I was born into but never really got to marinate in. I always feel a sense of belonging when I'm back for the races. Maybe it is that I did actually grow up there until I was a ripe old age of five, maybe it is that my Grandpa and Great (and more Great) Grandmas and Grandpas are buried there, maybe it is that it was THE world for my Grandpa and Grandma until Grandpa was taken while being a part of it....

Either way, I was born with a love for racing... especially when on a dirt track. They say Grandpa always rode high in the dirt and was known for his "rooster tail" behind him. It makes sense to me, those are my favorite races to watch.

One of my other favorite things of the week is having people tell me about Grandpa or Grandma back in the day. I love seeing a change on old-timer's faces when they are told that I'm "Jimmy Packard's Grand-daughter."

I'm ready to see whisper under my breath "Gentleman, start your engines" along with the woman at the microphone. I'm ready to see the flags being waved. I'm ready to live in a world filled with black and white checkers, green, red, yellow, orange and blue flags. I'm ready to watch pit races and see milk poured over heads. I'm ready to see youngsters trying to get somewhere as they spin their wheels on the dirt and rub each other off in the corners. I'm ready for the pageantry of race day and hugging all those wrinkly faces that are part of my connection to back then. I'm ready to hear stories from Grandma when things remind her of the past. I'm ready to see the looks on the faces of my family as some of them return to their past and the youngsters are introduced for the first time. I'm ready to hear memories from my parents of 30 years ago this month, when they first met during race weekend....