Here's our race-day food, which Lamont called a "white trash party in the Northwest Hills," with humor and respect, not putting us down one bit. We all got a laugh out of his observation. Left to right, front row, there's salsa and cashews; second row, BBQ-sauced beef cocktail sausages wrapped in wheat bread (Kay put mustard and pickle relish on hers); third row, sliced cheddar cheese, sliced cacio de roma (sheep's cheese), sliced granny smith and golden delicious apples; fourth row, white zinfandel, Mission tortilla chips and a great big bowl of fresh fruit. We enjoyed ourselves.
About the race itself, our guys didn't win, but the two guys we didn't want to win didn't win, either. Confused? Dale Earnhardt Jr., one of our guys (mine and Kay's), came in 9th; Jeff Gordon (Kay's guy and he's OK with me, too, now that he's a daddy) came in 39th. But, most important is that fact that neither Tony Stewart nor Kyle Busch won. Yea, Ryan Newman!
By the way, I was a bit uptight with 35 laps to go and poured myself a second glass of wine. Relaxed me right nice--I only hollered a little bit.
Afterwards, Kay and I went for a walk, visiting the two thrift stores within six blocks. I got this neat photo of a lovely window in a nearby house that has been converted into apartments.
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