It is I-5 day.

That is how I affectionately refer to the Indianapolis 500.  The I-5.

Today will mark a triumph in 2021.  I have heard there will be 135,000 folks in attendance at the famed brickyard.

I have been fortunate enough to visit Indianapolis Motor Speedway a few times.  The first time was ten years ago when my dear wife, Carrie, and I went to watch qualifications for that year’s race.  The roar those cars make is unreal.  I can’t imagine what the start of that race sounds like in turn one.  I can try.  But I don’t think it is possible to know until you have been there.

Ray Harroun’s car, the first Indy 500 winner.

The Borg-Warner Trophy.

As you can imagine, the museum inside the track is a special place to visit if you have any interest in this race and this place.

So many memories.  Your old Uncle Dan can remember having to listen to the race on the radio and then watching a tape delay broadcast on ABC that same night.  Was it our proximity to the track? Perhaps it was.  I really don’t care.

These were good days.

My dear friend Adam Disque was teaching at Medora School when I was the counselor and teacher there.  He invited me to join his class on Education Day trips to Indianapolis Motor Speedway.  For me the Winner’s Circle was never more important than this picture:

Talk about a crew!  Wow.  We had a blast.

How this photo turned out this way I will never know.  But I have gotten a few miles out of it.  Maybe not 500.  This is on the infield side of the Pagoda.  If you follow that yard of bricks through that door and out to the other side, you will find the track’s front stretch.  If you win the race, you get to kiss the bricks.

Yes, this really is a big deal. Believe it or not.

Learning about the cars and all aspects of the track was a great time for these kids and these adults.

I am so thankful Adam asked me to join this group.

Who will win the race today?  Look out for Scott Dixon.

In truth I think those in attendance and those watching the race LIVE from home will be the winners.  The race gets to run on time this year.  But, there is more memorial than ever to this Memorial Day weekend.  Our national loss has been great.  Hug someone you love.  Don’t miss the last dance.

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

The great pandemic has not been kind to me.  Nor has it been kind to anyone.

To personalize this, I can report that the pandemic has increased my waistline and I am ready to retaliate.

Working in a school, wondering about the uncertainty of that and being compelled, due to contact tracing to be tested for the Corona Virus twice, I have been a nervous wreck.  I have, in the process, surrendered to the fork and spoon.

Too much pizza.  Too much fried fish.  Too much cereal at night.  Too many burgers.  Too much of….fill in the blank.

I have found solace in good vittles.  In turn, the vittles have not been as good to me as I have been to them.

And so it begins.  This old boy is fully vaccinated and still scared.  As I have reported here before, my lungs are not my friend. I was born that way.  I have been beyond nervous through this pandemic.  I don’t want to lose my breath.  I have felt fear all my life in my pursuit to breathe clearly.  On a few occasions, I have been in doubt.  On a few occasions, trips to Denver, Colorado, I have never felt so revived as clean air was felt in my lungs in places that I did not know existed. I never felt better.

And so it begins.  It is my time to turn my nose up on the pandemic.  It is my time to get back to the mode of self-preservation.

Many of my friends know that in 2012 I went through a transformation.  I lost a great deal of weight and kept it off for the longest time.  No, I am not up to the weight I was then when I knew it was time to change things.  But, I am closer to that point than I was on the better side of it.

So…it is time.

More exercise.  Less fried foods.  Less cereal at night.  And the list goes on.

Can I do it?  Sure I can.  It is about priorities.  This ain’t brain surgery.

It is about getting on the exercise bike in the morning.  Leaving the toast behind afterwards.  Eating more protein.  Drinking plenty of water.  Being disciplined about eating regularly.  Eating and drinking the right things.  Walking more.  Lifting some weights.  Doing a work out that Michael Powell gave me to follow before I went out to the Rose Bowl to kick my field goals (I was 2 for 2 in Pasadena) and making more progress.

On these pages I have spoken the rights.  When my Granny was dying, I told you about it.  When I was having a good time, I told you about it.  I am ready to tell you about this endeavor too.  It is time.  I got a bunch of clothes in my closet yelling out my name.  I have an eye on one particular long sleeve shirt that looks like it came straight from Kings Row.

I am just speaking the rights.

Chicago.

Danny Johnson

Thirty years ago I was in Hawaii with my Granny.  We had such a good time.    We stayed at the Sheraton Waikiki and had a balcony looking at the ocean and Diamond Head to the left.  It was amazing.  I rented a car and drove around the island on my own.  Granny would not go with me.

The things that stand out the most about this trip was a visit to the USS Arizona Memorial and Pearl Harbor, a sun tan than lasted two years, seeing the Don Ho Show, and seeing Bruno Mars impersonate Elvis in the lounge at our hotel.  Thank you, Granny.  It was a blast.

May.

I graduated from high school in May.  That was a long time ago.  My grandparents came up from Shreveport to witness it just to make sure it was true.  It was.

Tom and Gleda Brown were there.  My second parents.  How I miss them.

The last high school graduation I enjoyed was that of my sister, Lynn, who graduated from North Harrison High School two years before I did.  We had a great celebration then.

As a member of leadership for my graduating class, I was called to a meeting to decide the placement or replacement of the chair of a classmate who died in a car crash three days before graduation.  The older I get, the worse this gets for me.  I have made this speech so many times.  When the calendar turns to May I automatically get nervous.

We graduated on a Sunday and buried a classmate on the next day.  My mom, who hosted a lunch after the funeral, said it was the only time there were 8 pairs of black shoes sitting in her living room.  How this can stay so close to the heart this many years on I will never know.  But I am always nervous for the graduating class in my building.  I don’t want them to go through what I went through.  I don’t want them to know this dread and fear.

I finished college #1 in May.  My Bachelor’s degree that led to many years of teaching English.  How I enjoyed that.  I taught English from 1995 to 2015.  Many years of those year I taught while I was also the school counselor.

I finished college #2 in May.  A Master’s degree that led to my becoming a school counselor at the behest of Jim Stewart.  Jim was a principal at Medora I would have run through a brick wall for.  Had he not asked me to come back to Medora, I would not have him to thank for many good times.  Many of those were in his presence.  I miss that man.  He was the best school guy I ever knew.  Well, maybe Bob Mahan is 1B.  Got him to thank for a great deal also.

And so it begins.  The end of a school year like we have never known before.  Masks on, kids on virtual, watching other states not even remotely close to classes, avoiding crowds, not being in the middle of it.  It has been awful for this ole boy.  In a new building as Covid began.  Not being able to be myself.  Masks all the time. Wow.

I just hope and pray all the kids stay safe.  We need them.

Speaking the rights.

Danny Johnson