In every town, in every place
There’s a boy who’s trying to take a chance
And dance and find a way to run away with her heart
In the back of an old Ford truck
In the bar, just looking for love
In a pair of—oh my—blue eyes, let them fireworks start
That American country love song
Ain’t ever gonna quit playing on and on, and on
– Jake Owen
Monday 20 May 2024
What a novelty it was to arrive at the airport at 7:00am rather than 4:00am, as has been the norm on our flights so far this trip. Also a departure from the usual: a direct flight. No changing of planes in Las Vegas this time, just two hours’ straight shot from Austin across to Indianapolis, and a change from Central time to Eastern time – one hour forward.
The one interesting thing that happened on the flight was that I got a pat down by a very large TSA officer. Apparently the full-body scan detected an issue in my…well, nether regions. That necessitated this gentleman patting me down in that general area with the back of his hand. So many jokes went through my mind, but I resisted the urge, as jokes probably meant not making it to my flight. Quite a way to start the week, that’s for sure. I guess it’s “thanks for the hospitality, Austin.”
It’s immediately apparent that you are in the quote-unquote Racing Capital of the World the moment you step off the plane in Indianapolis. There are racecar photos, prints, drawings and other memorabilia around that are pretty hard to miss, and given we are less than a week from the Indianapolis 500, every second store in the airport seemed to have something relating to the race or the IndyCar Series on display.
Our Airbnb is in one of the nicest and oldest neighbourhoods in Indianapolis, full of enormous houses on enormous blocks of land. The governor’s mansion is only a few blocks away, and according to the Airbnb house guide, Cafe Patachou, which is a minute or so walk from the house, is a very popular place to be seen, with lots of movers and shakers there, thanks to it’s proximity to the governor’s residence.
Most of our neighbours have some sort of Indianapolis 500 paraphernalia on display: checkered flags are popular, but so are big flags with the wings-and-wheel logo of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. It’s really cool to see the entire city get on board and embrace the race. Long before Indianapolis had a basketball or football team or anything else, they had the Indianapolis 500, and it is more than just a race. It’s a gathering and – dare I say? – something approaching religion.
Mexican for dinner tonight at El Jaripeo with Ryan, who flew home from Austin last night so he could work the Indianapolis 500 practice session this afternoon on radio, and his wife Audrey. Whilst we spent some time with Ryan at COTA, we didn’t really have a chance to have a good chat there, so tonight took care of that. Lots of racing talk, given the week, and the reason why we’re here. They are two of the nicest people on earth, and I will be forever grateful that our paths crossed thanks to this amazing race.
Home late after hanging at Ryan and Audrey’s house for a bit, watching a comedy skit by an Australian purple puppet called Randy Feltface. Kind of like a Sesame Street or Muppet puppet, but very rude at times, and also, most importantly, outrageously funny. Lots of mentions of famous – or infamous – Melbourne suburbs like Frankston and Broadmeadows. Also, the first time I’ve ever heard Ernest Hemmingway called “Hemmers”. Ryan said he wanted to get our reaction to the jokes. I can only hope we lived up to expectations.
kitchtrips 