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Alexander Rossi explaining how it All Slipped Away
from him Sunday, during the Sonoma Post-race Interviews. (Image source:
oilpressure.wordpress.com)
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It's Football Night in Americre', Check. It's
RASSCAR' Playoffs time Baby, Check. Uhm, it's Championship weekend for Indy
Cars, is this thingy' On? Check 1-2-3...
It's funny the range 'O emotions I felt this
past Sunday, after waiting in anticipation the whole day to watch; Err listen
to the IndyCar season finale from Sonoma...
As I'm gonna try to write this story with
only one web link included, since it relates massively to life in general for
us Few Blind Motor Racing Aficionados.
Whale' Otay Race Fans, may be one Day I'll
write; Uhm scribble a No Fenders story with zero links embedded in it. But not
today, as there's actually two links that are intertwined with this story and
the Cacophony of emotions I experienced over what Leigh Diffey Hammered into
our Heads as Championship weekend, Spew!
As my emotional Rollercoaster syncs up
perfectly with that oft, overplayed ABC Wide World 'O Sports TV Intro theme
tease, Y'all know, "The Thrill 'O Victory, thee Agony of Defeat!"
As I began Saturday morning by listening to
my NFB Newsline for The Blind telephone service, plodding thru my Daily News-trawl,
including The Guardian's World News section, where I listened to a very
poignant story about life as a former Refugee returning to the Camps three
decades later...
As I found this a very sobering way to begin
the morning, thinking to Thyself how lucky I am ultimately as an American, to
have the luxury of living Solo in my very own Bungalow, and being afforded the
luxury of having Cable TV to watch motor racing in general.
From there, after eating breakfast and cheerfully "surfing" thou
morning away, awaiting IndyCar qualifying from "Sleepy Hollow," nee
Snorhoma, or officially known as Sonoma, which I still recall the thrill of my
first visit Thar', running outside from the Watering Hole we were frequenting
to the rumble of FoMoCo' motivated cars, specifically cobra's rumbling around
the town's square over two decades ago...
I marveled over the simplicity of basking in
the ability of having the Indycar.com live Timing & Scoring webpage not
Dump upon Mwah once and getting to enjoy listening to the unbridled enthusiasm
of thee "Viking," aka Anders Krohn giggling thru the entire Quali'
show over the Beatdown Patricio O'Ward was displaying during his IndyCar Debut.
As I spent the entire live Internetz'
Broadcast crowing out loud to Thyself that O'Ward's simply a BAD ASS HOMBRE!
And I was so excited over his outstanding debut, that I decided to watch; Err
listen to the entire qualifying segment a second time via the delayed TV
Broadcast upon NBC Sports, since I really enjoy 'Ol PT's, nee Paul Tracy's No
Nonsense commenting.
As I was curious to see how they'd call the
Qualie' vs. the IMS Radio Broadcast. For which I enjoyed how much more the IMS
Gang was able to interview Drivers vs. cutting to the obligatory raft 'O television
commercials. Ambling off for dinner with a glow upon thou face over how
exciting the reigning Indy Lights Champion Pato' was for me.
Hence I spent all day Sunday morning waiting
in anticipation, hoping for the unlikely to happen, Na, SHIT! I don't mean when
I accidently didn't get Lucy', My ARSE-Steamed Screen Reader turned off before
reading me the headline results of who'd won the Formula 1 race; SHEISA!
Nope, I was hoping for who Paul Tracy would
later call a "Cat on a Hot Tin roof!" Nee Alexander Rossi pulling off
the upset by defeating Scott Dixon for this year's IndyCar Crown, which my Gut
told me wouldn't happen.
Yet my Foopah before noon seemingly was a
Harvenger 'O Things to come, since I already knew it's never good to have an
IndyCar race preceded by RASSCAR', SHIT! Ah FUCK! Here we go again, as gee
Kiddies', Thar going long, since they cannot keep from running into each other
for more than four laps at a time, ergo, playing Bumpercars thru the start of
the IndyCar race; FUCK-FUCK-FUCK!
As I just sat Dumbstruck over the Freakin'
Roundy-round Bombers runnin' late and causing us to inexplicably miss the start
of the IndyCar season finale. Arguably the most crucial start of the season,
Eh?
An being that my Cable TV Service is
relatively brand new to Mwah, not even a month old yet, I simply didn't know
what Bleepin' channel CNBC was on, and thus was stuck listening to the drone 'O
NASCAR while the IndyCar race was in action... Before scamperin' to Thy
Kitchen's 'Ol School telephone to hurriedly Dial-up my Zapp2it' TV Guide and
find out what channel CNBC was so I didn't have to listen to any more of that aggravating
NASCAR Dribble; SHIT! Since we simply bounced into the IndyCar race already in
progress at 3:48PM Pacific BASTARDOS!
and then how much time, time, Deal with It!
Uhm, how many laps did I miss whilst trying to find out what channel CNBC is
on? fuming the whole time repeatedly saying you've got to be Fucking Kidding!
As NBC definitely gets a 15-yard penalty and loss of Down for Intentional
Grounding of the Indy Cars Season Finale!
But N-O Buckaroos', the Show didn't stop
there, as I had zero interest in the encore presentation of the Singapore Grand
Prix and decided to listen to Speed Freaks instead. but SHIT! Since we're in
Football season now, they're relegated to Backwater status and only available
on the Internetz' via tumbler, nee tune-in radio, which typically takes me
seven or eight minutes of repeatedly refreshing the page's link in order to
hear the tinny, crappy constantly modulating volume web broadcast begin. For
which I immediately quit after hearing Scott Dixon's interview...
Yet even as my Angst, or what those Bloody
Brits call Agro' simmered late into the night, I realize how silly I'm being
compaired to everybody suffering from Hurricane Florence, so ironically named,
since that's where I'm residing now.
Yet I simply am venting my frustrations as a
Blind person, since it's Uber Annoying how much we're not able to See, and
hence how much we Miss for a variety of reasons, since "My Gal"
Lucy', my Screen Reader can only read me whatever websites are built robustly
enough to allow her easy interface access...
which makes it even more impressive that a
Blind female Paralympics Athlete's preparing to contest the upcoming Dancing
With The Stars season, for which I was totally unaware of before Snowbyrd MJ'
informed me of this.
You see, Danelle Umstead, a multiple medal winning
Paralympics Skier suffers from the very same eye disease your Humble No Fenders
Scribe is afflicted by. It's called Retinitis Pigmentosa, or RP for short. And
I'm just super, super impressed by Danelle's courage and fortitude to agree to
participate on Dancing With the Stars, and hope she and her Russian Dancing
partner do well overall!
As I encourage Y'all to check out the link
below, which gives just a brief insight to the challenges of life for Blind
people in general, which somehow makes the whole Day's Bungled Motorsports
Broadcasts outing a tad bit inconsequential, Eh?
Now if I could
only S-e-E where the Bloody Speelchequor is; Oh Never Mind!