Driving School

For once, I'm not referring to something the BMV or the courts made me do. This time, driving school is voluntary, and my 79-year-old father is the student.

Last year, I won a gift certificate to Track Attack, an Indianapolis racing school, from Indianapolis Dine. While it would have been fun to do, I knew there was someone else who really need to do it, so I turned the certificate over to my father. This is the result.

He got to spend an afternoon learning to drive these little race cars, doing practice sessions, and racing as part of a four-man team. My sister, Cyndy, went along to play photographer. They didn't win, but everyone had a good time. The $12 Indianapolis Dine subscription is probably the best money I ever spent.


This is why it seemed so obvious that he should be the one to go - Dad is an avid NASCAR fan. A big fan. This is his car. He calls it Jeff. There re 24s everwhere on and in the car, and those really are blue flames. For someone going on 80. He doesn't leave out the greatest automobile race in history, either - this year he attended his 61st Indianapolis 500.


He spends his summer weekends traveling to NASCAR races with my two older sisters. They camp at the track, sleep in an RV, and spend the weekend doing a lot of drinking and watching a little racing. He says he goes for the racing, but it looks like there are all sorts of ways to have a good time with NASCAR. Yes, Mom's seen the picture.