Flat Track. Dirt.

Went to the races last night. My buddy called and asked me if I wanted to go. The local track is not too far from here. I am not a big NASCAR fan but I do like the flat dirt track racing. It's all local guys, a couple of girls too. They run several different classes at the track. The Late Model Modified class is always the best.

We got there in time to get good seats. We each had a blanket to roll up and sit on. The old school hardwood stadium style benches are not very comfortable. We got some chili dogs, burgers and fries before we settled in to wait for the first heat. We both like to eat before the races start. The good greasy food is better without the gritty taste of flying dirt in the air. If you have ever gone to see dirt track racing you know what I mean.

The sun was setting off to our left in the crystal clear Western Pennsylvania sky. It was a perfect evening for the races. Not too hot and not too humid. We like to sit dead center in the front stretch. The American flag at the top of the racing official's stand where they wave the green and yellow and white and checkered racing flags sits just slightly to our left and about twenty-five yards in front of us.

I looked around at the crowd. I looked at the families who were all together to enjoy this experience. This so very American experience. A moment of silence was called for as we all stood up at the track announcer's request. The moment of silence was for the local volunteer fire department chief who had recently passed away. On the edge of the track stood about twelve members of the fire department, all visibly shaken by this loss. The National Anthem followed.

The announcer asked that hats be removed. I noticed a big biker guy who removed his bandanna from his head with his left hand, slapping his right hand smartly against his chest while he assumed the position of attention. A veteran for sure......America.

After the National Anthem played over the speakers that line the bleachers the announcer made some public service announcements. A Poker Run is to be held in a couple of weeks. The proceeds to benefit a local active duty Green Beret who suffered extensive burns. The poker run is sponsored by a local Nam Vet motorcycle club. The same club is also raising money for the family of a little girl who is suffering from some rare bone disease. The money is to help defray the costs of travel for the family who can't afford the gas to take her to and from her many appointments.....The Beautiful.

The sun began to set, turning the few white clouds a golden orange while the flag continued to wave in the steady breeze that came from the west. The breeze that would help coat all present with dirt and dust from the track once the races began.

The races were good. Lots of action and no one got hurt. For a few hours I was able to think about something other than the cancer that lives inside my wife. The cancer that the Chemo is attacking while it attacks every other living cell in her body. I feel quite fortunate that we do not have to be the recipients of good will, like the Green Beret and the Little Girl. We have good insurance and the money I earn driving the semi combined with my cop pension is seeing us through.

Hey Tommy. That goldfish, Al. He's doing great man. My wife and our younger daughter bought two more little guys to keep him company. We named one of them Mezzo. It's a name from one of the Japanese cartoons our Younger Baby Girl is so fond of. The other new fish I named. I named him Spot.