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| Home | Back Pages | Illustrations | Author Interview | Netshow Links |
The interesting thing is despite being an isolated small town, we've got a lot going on here. Lots of famous people live here, from Clint Eastwood to John Madden, from Kim Novak to Dorris Day. We have a world renowned Jazz Festival, an annual PGA golf tournament (including the US Open) and a National Championship car race. Of course, its the car race that means the most to me and that's precisely where I was today.
Yesterday I went to Laguna Seca (the race track) at 7:00 am to work for Team Penske, selling racing paraphernalia to the crowd. I've been working for Penske as a sales clerk the last few years at all their West Coast races. Its a lot of fun. I get to spend the day chatting about race trivia with customers (usually my friends just roll their eyes when I try to talk to them about racing), I get to do a lot of my own clothes shopping at the employee discount rate, I get to laugh at all the drunks, and I get to check out all the cute (and often shirtless) guys walking past. On top of all that I get my race credential covered and I get paid good money for having so much fun!
My plan was to work for Penske today too. I didn't make any other arrangements for the event. Unfortunately, sales have been off this year for Penske (the race team isn't doing so well) and they decided they didn't need any extra help for today so I ended up being a spectator. Its not often I spectate at races anymore. Perhaps twice a year. I was not pleased about having my plans changed for me on only a day's notice, but I quickly decided it would be fun having a day to myself with no responsibility at the track.
I started the morning by going to all my favorite photo spots during the Championship Cars warm-up session. I shot about 30 photos at various speed and aperture settings with a fairly high telephoto lens. I decided it was time for a new picture to enlarge for my wall. None of the 30 photos will make a decent snap shot, but at least one of them should turn out to be a good candidate to crop, enlarge, and frame. The last few shots on the roll I reserved to make a point. No one ever believes me when I tell them how many cute guys I have to put up with seeing at the world's race tracks week in and week out! If I didn't have a boyfriend I'm sure I would have gotten myself into a lot of trouble by now because of it. Anyway, I saved the end of the roll just to take a few pics of random guys I saw. It took little time to do that. I'm sure if you wanted to make a sport of it you could go through several rolls of film at a race and never take two pictures of the same guy.
After the morning warm-up session there was little to do. Most casual spectators watch the array of pace cars parading the track, or follow the myriad of traditional pre-race 'ceremonies', or hit all the race merchandise booths. I've seen the pace cars a zillion times, I've been responsible for organizing pre-race events before so they hold no interest for me except as a job, and after spending a day selling vastly overpriced and useless junk the last thing I want to do is waste my money buying it. I brought a science fiction book to sit in the shade and read for the two hours of down time before the race.
A short digression here. I feel the need to vent a bit about the 'vastly overpriced and useless junk'. I used to buy a lot of this stuff. In fact, most of my wardrobe used to come from the track. Two years ago I couldn't leave the house without wearing something with a racing emblem on it. Not because I wanted to, but because that's all I had to wear. I hate clothes shopping, but something compels me to want licensed polo shirts and ball caps from various race teams. It took selling the stuff to get me out of the habit.
You don't actually need a 'Team Penske' logo polo shirt. A blank polo shirt of the same brand from a mall store sale costs only a third of the track price. You don't need to own a little pin commemorating the first race at a new track in 1997 for $10. I sold the leftover same pins for $1 this year and still Penske made a profit. Besides, when you think about it, the first race at a new track isn't an historic event which needs commemoration. Its just entertainment.
Although the race tracks usually require you to have your ticket on visible display at all times, they provide a little string on the ticket to loop through a button or belt loop so you can do this. I've been to many golf tournaments where the tickets are the same kind and that is exactly what the spectators do. But at races the fans prefer to display their tickets in a transparent plastic sleeve hung around their necks on a loop of nylon cord which looks remarkably like a shoelace. They buy these devices from merchandisers for $10 each!
All this merchandise comes emblazoned with various sponsors' logos. The sponsors pay the teams for the advertising. Then, the fans pay a lot of money to go around wearing the advertisements! I used to do it too, and I guess I still do to some extent. I think the motivation is that everyone wants to dress up like a race team member. The team members wear polos of their team colors with the sponsors logos' stitched into them. The team members' season credentials are worn around the neck. Consequently, the fans want to wear polos in their favorite team's colors with their paid admission tickets hanging from their necks too. The little plastic sleeves are even called 'credential holders' so that fans can better pretend their tickets are actual 'credentials'. Here endeth the lesson.
Meanwhile, back at the races, I read my book to pass the time. As the 12 Noon start time approached I moved to a shady spot high on a hill overlooking a fair portion of the track. I could clearly see the the starting line and the first five corners where any interesting first lap events would probably take place. I spent the next hour and half watching the cars accelerate from the slowest corner at about 48 mph to the fastest straight at about 180 mph. I timed driver's laps, timed the gaps between drivers, and kept track of who was where in the race as the fastest cars lapped the slower ones. It takes a fair amount of concentration and experience to follow a road race in person if you are out of earshot of the track announcer's PA! A similar experience might be to go to a football game where there was no scoreboard or announcer and you had to keep track of the score and downs on your own, not to mention knowing what rules were so you could follow the action on the field without being told what was happening.
It was fun to simply be a spectator and follow the entire race as it developed. I won't bother with the details. I'm sure they're available on the web in many locations such as CART's home page, or that of Laguna Seca. After the Championship Race, there were two more short races for smaller, slower cars with new drivers. They were still capable of as much as 150mph, but think of it as the minor leagues. These support races were fun to watch too.
After the last race was over, I walked through the paddock and stopped to congratulate the winner. The drivers are mobbed all through the weekend, but if you stay late, long after the crowds gone home, they are usually quite accessible. On the way home, I stopped by my parents house to pick up a video tape of the day's BIG race. The Indy Car race I was at was definitely the premiere race event in the US this weekend, but not in the world. The Italian Grand Prix was this weekend - one of sixteen events held on five continents around the world to settle the World Championship of motor racing. The famous Grand Prix of Monaco is one such event.
I ate my dinner (a frozen dinner from Safeway) and watched the video of the Grand Prix. It turned out to be very exciting indeed, as the two Ferraris finished first and second! A great day for the Italian fans and fans of Ferrari everywhere. The last time that Ferrari won their home race in such style was 1988, the very month that Enzo Ferrari passed away. It was a great tribute that the team was able to honor him again on the 10th anniversary of his death.
Motor racing is important to me.
My day to day work at the lab is keeping me quite busy during the week. I seem to be averaging nine to ten hours a day to get everything done. I think I feel the pressure of time more during the week now than during the summer because its getting dark earlier. I like to exercise after work two or three days a week by hiking, running, going to the weight room, or swimming. It feels like there is no time to those things if I don't come home from work until after 6:00pm and its good and dark by 8:00pm. Its the fact that my weekends are booked solid that is really going to keep me busy. That means no weekends to do chores like paying bills, washing clothes, keeping up my apartment, etc. All that stuff will have to get done at night, when I'd rather be spending time with my boyfriend, going out with friends, screwing around on my computer, or reading.
What is threatening to keep me so busy on the weekend? Well, this weekend is the last quiet one for a while. I'll lead a hike for GLB youth on Sunday, but that's the only thing on my schedule. Maybe I'll get to visit with some friends. The next weekend I'm out of town from Friday after work until late Sunday night to travel to a race in northern CA and work as the pit crew for an amateur race car. The next week, I'll take three days off of work to drive to Las Vegas and officiate a motorcycle race there. The weekend after that I've been hired to officiate a car all weekend here in Monterey at Laguna Seca. In the middle of October I have one weekend open right now which I'm contemplating using to climb Half Dome in Yosemite. The next week I'll be at Laguna Seca again for the FIA GT race. Then, right at the end of October I'm scheduled to go out to sea for my job on a research ship. It will be nearly the end of November before I see land again. The cruise will be hard work, but also fun and worth a lot of overtime pay.
That brings me right
into Thanksgiving Weekend, which will probably be spent with relatives,
eating and watching football. The first weekend in December I'm scheduled
to train a new group of ski tour guides by taking them to Lake Tahoe and
showing them all the ski areas. After that, I'll have one weekend off (yay!)
and then the next weekend I'll be leading my first ski tour of the year
with paying customers. The next weekend is Christmas. That means I've got
three unscheduled weekends between now and Christmas, and at least one
of those is already threatened. It looks like I'm going to have a busy
Fall.
Monday, September 21, 1998
I tested three bikes before I chose one to buy. The first, was a nice, mid-grade model with no suspension. It was quick, with great brakes, and a responsive feel. I next tried the same model with a front suspension. It rode the same, but eased itself over big bumps in a strange way - it felt like the front tire was flat. Quite nice on really rough trail I'd venture. The third bicycle I tried was an entry level model which had been fitted with so many options, including a suspension and lightweight frame, that it was priced between the two mid-grade models but nominally had more features then the other two. I thought it would be a great bargain, but I quickly changed my mind when I took it for a ride. Despite being two pounds lighter than the other two it felt numb, unwilling to turn, and the rear brake couldn't be dragged for confidence in a turn without the tire locking up. I settled on the mid-grade model with the suspension.
While riding around on my shiny new bicycle I began to think about my attitude towards consumerism. It has changed a lot in the last few years. The two factors that changed my mind were working in retail sales for the first time, and over charging my credit cards. Both were great disincentives to buying things. I no longer feel the need to own every cool new racing hat or shirt that comes out. I don't have to buy all the latest CDs of music I hear on the radio or TV. But, was suddenly paying a lot of money (cash, I don't use credit anymore) for a bicycle consistent with my philosophy? As I pedaled around town looking for jumps and patches of dirt, I considered the problem.
I don't like having a lot of stuff. I often think of all the stuff I have in terms of its cumulative weight. My goal is to reduce the total weight of stuff to the absolute minimum. A corollary to that is I want all the stuff that I keep around to be of maximum utility and quality. All this doesn't mean that I'm on some kind of 'back to nature' kick like Ted Koczynski, aka. Unabomber. I love gadgets and high tech labor savers. I just want to make sure that my stuff is the stuff that *I* want. There is so much pressure in the Western World to buy. Advertising hits us from every direction and every conceivable place. The relentless social pressure to buy and accumulate things is almost overbearing.
Riding my new bicycle through town while thinking about all this I saw countless advertising messages on signs, buildings, vehicles, packages, clothes; on almost every object I passed. I wonder how many bytes of commercial messages I'm exposed to in an average minute of an average day? Tune in to any form of mass media and the barrage escalates. The deluge of commercialism is so intense, so pervasive, and so ceaseless that I can't see how it doesn't drastically effect our paradigms - our daily assumptions about the way life is.
How would we know that we are supposed to eat cereal or bacon and eggs for breakfast if the people who sell cereal and bacon and eggs didn't tell us? Do you suppose they eat a bowl cereal for breakfast in West Africa or Tibet? What would you call the sheets of soft paper you blow your nose into without a brand name? And what makes you think you need them at all? - On the Indonesian island of Celebes the locals have holes in the floor of their residences for blowing their noses into. They think its disgusting to blow your nose into a paper or cloth and then put it into your pocket until you need it again.
While riding along the shore I could look to my left and see nothing but the blue Pacific. Just water and wildlife. It was the only direction I could look where salesmen didn't attempt to define the nature of the universe for me. Maybe that's why people enjoy the beach, or the mountains, or any other place where they can "get away from it all". Getting away from the crushing pressure to buy things isn't my goal, however. Without business and trade the human race would still be back in the stone age. I like many of the comforts of modern life. Without business, where would the bike I was riding have come from?
No, my aim isn't to tear down capitalism in favor of some Utopian hunter/gatherer scheme. I just want to make sure I'm making the decisions about what things I need to have. If I were to abdicate my ability to think and choose, my little apartment would be crushed under the weight of a mountain of Salad Shooters.
Late in the afternoon
I pedaled up the last hill to my apartment. I felt secure that I hadn't
spent a lot of money on a bicycle because someone told me I had to have
one. I enjoyed my ride and picked a good machine which matched my expectations
rather than those of a salesman. I try to reduce the commercial pressure
in my life by taping TV shows, even when I'm home, and watching them later
without the commercials. I flip my car radio over to the CD player for
one song when a commercial break comes up. I figure that each minute of
my life has great value and the last thing I want to do is waste that valuable
time letting someone else tell me what I should value instead.
Tuesday, September 22, 1998
Monday morning he finished up a four day stint and was very tired. His house is about a half hour drive from mine, not very far by LA standards but far enough here in Central California. His car needed servicing at a shop near my apartment, so I told him to drive over right after work (first thing Monday morning for us mere mortals), drop off his car at the shop, and then sleep the day through at my apartment while I was at work. A great plan. It would have worked well had the garage remembered his appointment and ordered the required parts ahead of time. Nothing got done on the car. Brent went to my apartment and collapsed, too exhausted and exasperated to drive home. His day improved eight hours later when I came home from work and found him showering after a good day's sleep. My day drastically improved about then too.
We shared a pizza for dinner and watched a nature show on TV while eating. I wasn't interested in seeing any of the Monday Night Football game because the Dallas Cowboys were winning. I hate Dallas with fervent passion. I hate them beyond mere sport. I don't want them to just loose every week, I want to see the Dallas fans turn on the team just the way the team turned on their greatest coaching legend, I want to see the team go bankrupt and get dropped out of the league. Unfortunately, I was so busy hating the Cowboys that I forgot we were supposed to watch the new Will and Grace TV show. Well, its only TV entertainment anyway. Brent and I mostly talked with each other while the nature show was on. After dinner he worked on some homework for his college courses and I read a science fiction book.
Having Brent there whilst I read for two hours was very nice indeed. We didn't interrupt each other's concentration much, or try to talk a lot. We were each doing our own thing - together! I can remember many quiet, depressed evenings alone in the same apartment three years ago. I'd try to read, but I couldn't focus on the text. I'd be distracted by the lonely sound of traffic moving busily outside. Everything seemed so utterly pointless, so desperately vain. I couldn't even bring myself look at the pages of books I once loved with my mind so preoccupied by thoughts of desolation, emptiness, and hopelessness.
I haven't felt that
way in more than two years. I am the person most responsible for the change.
I didn't go to counseling, or therapy, or take drugs of any kind. All I
did was accept what I'd known all along - that I needed another guy in
my life to love and be loved by and that I needed to do something about
finding him. Last night, as I blithely read away the last hours of the
evening, that guy was right there with me, doing his homework. I am often
amazed at how simple happiness is.
Wednesday, September 23, 1998
Autumn is my favorite time of year so I'm delighted when the subtle signs of the season appear as they have in the last day. The wind has picked up a little, and borne upon it are small swirls of dry leaves which have fallen from the few deciduous trees here. The air is a little cooler, especially in the morning, and the light has changed. The sun is lower, often in my eyes, and everything appears more shadowy. The colors of the landscape, once all greens and golds, have been replaced by browns and reds. The tired old crops have been ploughed over into the fields and left to rot in anticipation of the winter crop. The Pacific is now more violent in its unending assault on the rocky shore. One of my favorite signs of Fall on the Central Coast are the changes in the sunset. The sunset lasts longer this time of year and has richer hues of red and orange caused by the increase of smoke, dust, and haze in the air this time of year.
A place I have always enjoyed watching the sun go down from is the local college football field. My high school used to (and still does) play all their home games there. I used to work at the games as an official, keeping the first down markers and chains. From my vantage point on the edge of the field, I'd watch the sunset begin during the Junior Varsity game and conclude as I stood under the lights during the Varsity game. Late on in the sunset, as the sun dipped below a forested ridge, radiant lines of gold would spread like fingers high over the field, the sun's last skyward reaching rays being parted by the sillouhettes of distant trees. After the sunset a satisfying light chill would seep into the night air. I hope to pick a perfect Friday evening this Fall and walk over the football field to watch my old team play in the Autumn light, not to reminisce, but to enjoy the moment.
For me, Fall is a season of renewal and beginnings. I think that perhaps that is because the new school year always starts in Fall, as do the Hockey and Football schedules, even new cars and new TV programs are introduced this time of year. And of course, its time to begin preparation for the new skiing season. One of my favorite things about this time of year is the progression of the holidays. I enjoy Halloween, but Thanksgiving is better and leads up to the Superbowl of holidays, Christmas itself! I thoroughly enjoy the holiday shopping season, slowly settling on gifts for my family and friends. Fall is the time I pack away the gin and the lager and break out the whiskey and the stout.
Another important sign of the season I observe is to put away all my summer music and discover again my fall and winter favorites. Many of my friends don't get this little quirk of being Rob, but its very important to me. I just can't listen to my summer music (e.g.. the B-52s, Jimmy Buffet, Van Halen, and Handel) when Fall arrives. Now I want to hear the sounds I associate with darker, cooler times (e.g.. U2, the Chameleons, Big Country, Mozart).
I've got a lot of things
to accomplish between now and the new year, but with the arrival of Autumn
I'm in my element. All though the minute by minute events of my life are
not drastically different from last week, I shall keep in mind that each
of those minutes is now a precious Fall minute to be savored. I will immerse
myself in the season I love most.
Monday, September 28, 1998
I've been worrying about money for the last week. Well, its been on my mind for more than than a year now, but I've really started to worry about it in the last week. I've noticed that although I've been paying my bills on time, I'm not one bit closer to having my credit cards paid off than I was a year ago. That sucks. It means I've wasted a year's worth of interest on the damn things and haven't actually paid for all things I bought last year yet. I've had the credit cards out of my wallet for six months now, and not put a dime more on them. I suppose that's a start. I'm using Microsoft Money to plan a budget to keep so I can get the cards paid down faster. I might even use a bank consolidation loan which will reduce my interest rate and take automatic payments right out of my account so I'll be forced to stick to the schedule. Getting out of debt in that way, based on my present income will take three years. I will have my car completely paid for and my credit cards free and clear at the end of that time. That's great, except that means I won't be finished until 2001! And I'll be living on very little disposable income between now and then. I can survive, but I don't want to waste three precious years of life merely surviving. For instance, I have every intention of climbing my first real mountain next year (Mt. Rainier in WA) and I've got to figure out a way to pay for it. I think I know what the answer might be.
Racing
is very unlikely to ever pay me much money. If I can make it happen it
would be fantastic, but since it is so unlikely, I need to take a look
at the other half of my income platform - computers/science. I don't have
the same passion for this as I do for racing, but I still enjoy keeping
computers healthy and collecting data in the field. Perhaps its time to
start thinking about a new job in computers. My present employer, the United
States Government, isn't known to pay good wages. I'm thinking that maybe
its time I started looking at jobs I'm qualified for in the private sector.
Its frightening and exciting to me at the same time. There are so many
possibilities! I could launch my life into so many different new and unexpected
directions. At risk are many of events in my life that I enjoy now. Its
not time to act yet, just think and gather information. If I start actively
applying for jobs, it won't be until 1999. I wonder...
Wednesday, September 30, 1998
After thinking about a conundrum such as spam, I often recognize my inconsistency and then act pragmatically. I grudgingly delete all the spam in my box every day knowing that free speech is more important than my convenience while muttering about advertisers who abuse the trust implicit in a free speech guaranty. Another, more critical problem of this sort bothers me. I work for the Department of Defense. The DoD is the only organization in government that publicly and legally discriminates against a class of American Citizens. Of course I'm referring to the Pentagon's ban on homosexuals in uniform.
I don't know how to reconcile my seven years in the military (four years of ROTC and three years Active Duty) and my status as a civilian DoD employee for three years with my strong belief that the US military ban on homosexuals is nothing more than blatant and disgusting institutional prejudice. Even though the ban smacks of injustice, I've still accepted a lot of DoD money over the years. Sometimes I feel like I've prostituted my ideals. Other times I feel like I've done well to tough it out in spite of the prejudice. I am confused and I don't know if I'll ever figure out the proper response. I just know that the ban is wrong and that I also need a paycheck.
The rest of America seems to be pretty wishy washy about this issue to. A Time magazine survey I read this summer showed that 66% of Americans think that gays should be allowed to serve if they want to. That's a two thirds majority, folks! Enough to override a Presidential veto. Why hasn't congress forced the will of the people on the civilian controlled Military? Its because congressmen don't think they can get reelected unless they take a firm 'family values' stand. Family values according to the DC definition means anti homosexual. So you think that the Time survey showing two thirds of Americans support gay service members is good news? Well, the same survey showed that 77% of Americans think that homosexuals should be included in any kind of military draft. That's right, one in ten people you know think that gays should be drafted but not allowed to volunteer.
I don't understand how this issue can even still be debated. No other developed nation on Earth supports such a ban. Yet, last week, the US Court of Appeals ruled that it couldn't say "the professional judgment... of military experts and personnel that those who engage in homosexual acts would compromise the effectiveness of the military was irrational." The Washington Post responded; "We can, but then again, a law's being constitutional and its being a reasonable policy are two entirely different things.... don't ask don't tell... places the military in the position of simultaneously sanctioning prejudice and using that prejudice as a justification for a discriminatory policy.
What's really disgusting is that there were six brave service members who brought this case to court. The failure of the court to see the military's injustice and rule proactively to reign in the out-of-step policy will now cost those service members their jobs, and probably some jail time. Nothing disgusts me more than the fact the United State Goverment, founded on principals of freedom, will send someone to jail for simply being themselves without harm to anyone. The Revolutionaries must be spinning in their graves at this most egregious transgression of liberty.
I'm sure that the ban on gays in the service will go away in the next ten years. But what are we to say to all those who suffered jail time and physical abuse because of it? The military is arresting over 3000 people a year even now! Military leaders continue defend their vile prejudice and while costing innocent and patriotic American citizens their freedom and honor. When the ban is finally struck down, who will hold the military leaders accountable for their unconscionable actions and bring them to justice? I still have a problem of conscience accepting a DoD paycheck, but I do know this; if, while on Active Duty, I had ever been called upon to sit on a courts martial and judge a sailor for the 'crime' of homosexuality I would have *never* convicted. I thought through the scenario many times before I was commissioned. Not convicting a gay sailor would almost certainly mean that I'd be investigated for homosexuality too, but I'd go to jail myself before I'd send to jail someone else, entrusted to my leadership and care, simply for being gay.