I am on our screened porch with my two fuzzy assistants around me. One is neck-deep in the catnip plant we grow and water just for him. That would be Buster. The little guy, who always craves sunshine, is near me but on the wooden floor. It is “that day” and you can mark it on the calendar. September 6, 2018. The day you can feel it. The day summer really begins to end and the first wisps of autumn are in the air. From this point forward, we’ll have brief warm-ups and days where we say, “hot one today” but the tide always turns and today feels like that day. At 8:30 this morning, when I went out to get the newspaper in the driveway, it was chilly.
It’s warmed up quite a bit, but it’s different. You can genuinely feel that it’s different. We’ve been stuck in a hot & humid rut for months, where the simple act of going for a walk would bring you back home drenched in sweat. Yesterday, there was a tease of a break. Today, the break is real. And it’s pretty heavenly to be out here on the glider, with my feet on the ottoman and my laptop where laptops are supposed to be. It’s on my lap. And Buster is now on the ottoman too, with his left side pressed up against my lower leg. He’s a good boy. So is Boofie. It doesn’t get much better than this.
And I’m not sure if I’ve ever posted a pic of my laptop with the TPGF website admin page open, and my first couple of sentences written. If you click on the photo, you can see what I see when I’m writing this blog. I was just getting started when I took the photo.
And in the distance, just to make it a full sensory experience, someone is taking down what sounds like a very big tree. I can hear the chainsaw making its cuts and the the large crack and thud of each major branch or trunk as they come down. And the crows are talking all around me, as are our pair of doves who make our backyard home. The crows are the obnoxious ones. The doves are sublime. Welcome to Minnesota in September.
And just for the record, here’s Buster mowing down some more fresh catnip. I posted a similar photo on Facebook yesterday, of him basically standing in the pot, not next to it. Here he is, again, on Thursday Blog Day.
I’ve been home from Indy since Monday night, and today is the first day I feel normal. Okay, “normal” in a physical way. I rarely feel normal in a personality sort of way. Despite the fact I managed to make this year’s U.S. Nationals as efficient as possible, in terms of the length of my trip, it will still wear you out like no other race.
Back in the CSK days, I’m not sure how we all got through it but we were younger then. We’d go in on Tuesday, because there was always media and promotional work to do on Wednesday and Thursday. And usually a banquet or two. Big displays at Monument Circle, as well. And we’d go back home the next Tuesday, the day after the race (as long as there were no weather delays).
That truly was a marathon. Oh to have that kind of energy again… This time, I flew down to Indy on Friday afternoon, since there was only one session that day and it was a night run. I even had time to check into the hotel before going to the track, and got there 90 minutes before the run. After finishing my work on Monday, I went out to the airport to see about getting on an earlier flight, but the desk agent said “I can put you on stand-by, but if you make it you’re going to be in the back of the plane and in a middle seat.”
That actually meant a lot to me, because I’d already been put in the front cabin and my original flight was just two hours later than the one I might get on. I declined the stand-by. To me, it was worth it to go sit in the Sky Club and do some web surfing and social media for the two hours and then get to sit in the front. Lots of racing fans strolled through the club, as well, so lots of conversations were had. And two or three perfect strangers were standing by the bar watching the “live” coverage on Fox, just as the final round was going off. They weren’t established fans, obviously, but they were enthralled by what they were seeing. When J.R. Todd won in Funny Car, and then Terry McMillen in Top Fuel, the raw exuberant emotions on the screen got to the guys watching.
One guy said, “My gosh that’s a lot of pent up emotion in one instant. I wonder what the other team feels like…”
They noticed my hat and shirt and asked me if I’d been there. I said I had, but we lost a crazy-close race in round one. And I told them what it feels like to be the “other team” in the final round. It’s a very hollow feeling.
And about that first-round race. It was insane, and it seemed like it was happening in slow motion. First of all, it was almost all of my drag racing PR career wrapped up in one 1,000-foot race. I stood behind Del Worsham and his Toyota. In the other lane was Tim Wilkerson in his Ford. Prior to the race, we’d all been next to each other in the lanes, and handshakes and nods were shared all around. We all shared the sentiment that the best thing we could do is make it a thriller, for the fans and the crew members. As you can see, we pulled that off.
Susan Savoie Cagle posted this shot she took of their TV screen. It really was that close, and this is what one-thousandth of a second looks like. After decompressing for a bit, I walked “all the way” over to the Wilkerson pit. It wasn’t a long walk. We were pitted next to each other. I shook as many hands as I could, gave Krista a hug, and then went over to talk with Wilk. I said, “Great job, Timmy. It’s almost like a tie, but you earned the chance to go on. Put on a helluva show for the fans, too.” He gave me that Wilk nod, and said, “Thank you for coming over, Bob. That really means a lot to me. Thank you.” It meant a lot to me, too.
It was really a great event in almost every way. Saturday and Sunday’s crowds were massive. The whole place was jam-packed and the atmosphere was terrific. Monday was, by a good bit, the hottest and muggiest day of the race, and that may have kept the crowd down. It was basically sweltering. And, for my gaggle of colleagues who make up the PR reps, we got to add to the fun with the location of our room in the tower. We were on the top floor. That’s a lot of stairs to climb, repeatedly, all day long. It never seemed to get much easier.
Throughout all my years we’ve had a number of different locations for the PR people. For many years, we tried to share the main Media Center, which is on the second floor, with all the reporters, staffers, and National Dragster folks. As the sport grew, and more national and regional reporters would come to cover the race, we ran out of room. Plus, NHRA really needed a dedicated interview room, with a stage and podium and chairs for reporters, so that was done and by then there was clearly no room for PR reps. The first solution was to put us in the Media Center next door, at the oval track.
The “press box” at the oval is nice, and plenty big, but the oval track is down past the finish line. And, of course, the Media Center over there faces, duh, the oval track. We had a nice big room where we could spread out (and an elevator!) but we had no view of the track without stepping outside to stand at the back railing. The fax machine came in handy when it was time to pass out the qualifying sheets.
Finally, just a few years ago, they put the PR reps on the fourth floor of the tower, but on the far left side as you stand behind it. This year, I think they put the broadcast team in that room and they moved the PR reps to the far right end. I sat at the far right end of the front row of the room too, so I had the “corner office” if you will. I could look straight ahead and have a phenomenal view of the track, or to my right to look out over the massive pit area and midway. Climbing the stairs all weekend wasn’t much fun, but the view was fantastic.
Oh, and speaking of PR reps (because I was) we all had to say goodbye and good luck to Cody Poor at the end of the day on Monday. Cody was always one of the reps who was a pure pleasure to be around, but he was also extraordinarily good at what he did, working for the Kalitta team. He’s going to work for a big law firm in Indianapolis, doing marketing and PR for them, so Monday was his last day. It was an emotional day for him, and it ended with one of his drivers, J.R. Todd, winning the race. That was a perfect and profound way for his last day to end. All the best to Cody! You’re a good man, buddy.
UPDATE: My two fuzzy assistants are taking a break. Both sound asleep, with Buster on the rocking chair and Boofus on the top level of the kitty condo. The breeze is magnificent.
And yesterday, I learned something no one else had told me about, regarding the Wilk vs Del first round match up. Right before we started the car, I could hear Alan Reinhart start a sentence about “the historic significance” of the pairing. When the motor fired, I couldn’t hear the rest of it but I allowed my brain to think, just for a second, “I wonder if he’s going to say something about me…”
Yesterday I got an email from my Vancouver friend, Kim Campbell (aka “Kim the Lawyer). He was watching the race on All Access, I assume, because that stream uses the P.A. for the sound, and that means he would’ve been listening to Alan. Kim informed me that Alan said something along the lines of “If you’re wondering about mixed emotions, go find Bob Wilber and ask him about it. He spent almost 20 years total doing PR for these two guys, first for Del Worsham and then Tim Wilkerson. And now he’s back in the sport doing some more PR for the Worsham team. He wrote a book about it, and it’s called Bats, Balls, & Burnouts. Buy it on Amazon.”
And I wondered why I saw a significant spike in sales on Tuesday and Wednesday, both in terms of the printed book and the Kindle version. I wrote Alan a note and thanked him, but I figured he might want a royalty after creating some sales so I never mentioned that. Alan doesn’t read this blog, does he? Asking for a friend.
Did I mention it’s a spectacular day in Minnesota? I thought so. The humidity is gone, the sky is blue, the breeze is magic, and I could sit out here all day. There’s no rule that says I can’t, but I have other writing to do. Guess what… On Sunday, between sessions when most of the other PR reps fanned out all across the pits to go see their drivers, I followed an urge I was having and I started to write. As in, I started to write a test version of Chapter 1 of my new book, just to see how it felt. It felt great. I’m not sure the three pages I wrote over the course of the next three days will end up being part of the actual opening chapter, but maybe. Did you know I had a totally different Chapter 1 in the original manuscript for Bats, Balls, & Burnouts? I did, but it was clear to me early on that the original version was me trying to be too tricky. Or, in effect, trying too hard. It was forced and it didn’t sound like me, plus it gave away a few plot twists that had to come later in the book. So, in the end, we just dumped it all. Chapter 2 became Chapter 1, and that was some serious addition by subtraction. The original chapter was lousy.
And here’s another thing. I’ve been stumped all along on a title for the new book. When I tell people that, they all have the same response. They say, “It’ll come to you. It always does.” And yesterday it just might have. I was on a walk, and as I strolled by one of our many Woodbury lakes, the first possible title just popped into my head. It was okay, but it gave away too much, kinda like that original first chapter of the first book. And then a second later, a new two-word title made itself vividly clear. I won’t give it up yet, because maybe this one just broke the logjam and more and better options will appear, but I like it enough to think it’s a front runner. It’s one of those titles that’s simple, but it can mean lots of different things in many different ways. That seemed like a big thing.
And my next big trip is coming up, too. I have booked a ticket from MSP to SNA a week from Friday. SNA is John Wayne Airport in Orange County. After the great trip up to Roseau, I felt like I should do a location scouting trip to that area, too, to get a real feel for where that character grew up and went to school. It won’t be like the Roseau trip, where Larry set me up with a string of interviews and meetings, but I want to make sure I can characterize exactly where this guy lived and what it was like. I’ve obviously been to the area many times, but I’ve never driven around with this intent in mind. I’ll take lots of photos, to keep it all fresh as I write.
I guess that’s about it for this week. Time to reopen that Google Docs file I started to see if I can add some more words to the trial run of Chapter 1.
As always, we like “likes” here so if you just read this and enjoyed it, please click on the “Like” button at the top! I’m still trying to win that secret decoder ring…
Bob Wilber, at your service with two sleepy assistants.