The bluest eyes in Texas are haunting me tonight, for that matter so are the browns, greens, grays, and hazels.
Let me preface this by saying this one is all about me folks.
I planned on being trackside today, reporting from my home state.
It was all arranged perfectly, or so I thought. The plan was put into motion three months ago. Tickets were purchased, accommodations were made and a family reunion of sorts was set.
Although I live in Washington DC, I hail from Texas and it will always, ALWAYS be home. My extended family is scattered about the Lone Star state, so there are endless reasons to visit, but this one was going to be special.
When I told my family of my plans, it sounded like the a perfect excuse to rally the troops. My father made arrangements to fly in from North Carolina and my mother traveled from Virginia to be there.
I’d planned on shacking up with my aunt and uncle, spend a few days with relatives near and far then head off to Texas Motor Speedway with my cousins.
It was a trip that I’d been looking forward to for months.
So then why am I shivering on the “coldest night of the season” in the Nation’s capital when I should be basking in the Texas sun?
Unlike mainstream media, those of us who write as part of NASCAR’s Citizen Journalist Media Corp are unique in the fact that many of us have not quit our day jobs yet.
My alter-ego deals day in and day out with the sick and injured in a busy ER. Right now H1N1 Swine flu is our business and business is good, too good in fact…and that’s bad!
Selfishly, very bad for me.
Thanks to the pandemic, a policy was recently enforced within our hospital. We as staff members are on a permanent “on-call” status throughout the winter months.
No matter where we are in the world, if we get the call to come in, we have 48 hours to make it back to work.
Not only has H1N1 affected my working environment, but my personal livelihood is now suffering and that ain’t cool!
This weekend when I should be hearing the roar of the engines, I will be listening to the drone of cardiac monitors and screaming children. In lieu of the scanner, I will be wearing a surgical mask, and instead of making my way through a crowded media center, I will be dodging germs in a congested waiting room.
Sigh…there’s always next year right? You betcha!
The Swine flu should be a distant memory by Apr. 18, 2010; life as I want it to be will be and I’ll be headed “home” in the springtime without the threat of illness in the air.
So to Tony, Dale, Jimmie, Jeff, Juan, and all the rest, while I know it will be hard, have a great race this weekend without me.
God be with our Nation, the brave Military, their family and friends who were affected by the tragedy at Ft. Hood this week.
God Bless Texas.