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A Banked Curve[ball]
I didn't make a birthday post this year like I've done the last few, but I did have a nice birthday. I got some wonderful prizes and enjoyed a day off with the wife and munchkin (though it wasn't my actual birthday). One of the gifts I received was authorization to do an oval track driving experience, conveniently located at the nearby (i.e. not quite two hours away) Iowa Speedway. There are two organizations that provide oval track experiences at the Iowa Speedway: The Richard Petty Driving Experience and the Great American Stockcar Series Driving Experience. The latter of the two offered a better price (by $50) and a longer session (by two laps), so it made perfect sense to choose the GASS experience.
Yesterday, I had banked up some extra hours at work, so I took off early in the afternoon and we made our way to the Iowa Speedway, following the instructions we had been given by the GASS organizers. They had been pretty vague right from the beginning and it didn't surprise us when we got to the track credentials building and neither the gate guard nor the credentials office knew what to do with us; GASS hadn't taken our names or informed the track officials that we were coming (or any of the other people who showed up for the experience, no doubt) and we had to wait patiently while they figured stuff out. Eventually we were let through the gate and under the tunnel into the center of the oval. It was very cool being in the middle of something that I've only ever seen on TV. We found our way to turn 3 as directed by the gate guard and wandered around until we figured out where we were supposed to be... sorta.
The first thing we saw that looked promising was a trailer where they were signing out firesuits and helmets. I knew I needed those, so we did that first. After getting suited up, I asked the guys in the trailer where to pay because I didn't see a cash register or anything and I knew they were going to want money at some point. The two guys looked at each other incredulously and told me I was supposed to have paid and signed the danger waiver already; they noted that they should do a better job of watching for wristbands (the indicator that a participant had paid up and waivered up). Apparently, if I hadn't asked, my ride would've been free (unless I got caught later).
Next we found ourselves standing in a much longer and slower line to pay, myself now wearing a warm firesuit over my long pants and closed-toe shoes in full sun on a fairly hot day. Finally, we're at the front of the line and the lady says "$107." I was expecting a question instead of just a number, something like, "Are you driving or just riding?" to be followed with another, such as, "Will be you driving the 10 laps or the 30 laps?" Having gotten neither question from the lady behind the table with a box full of paperwork, I decide to ask her, "Can I drive? My wife approved me to do the 10-lap driving experience, so $400 or whatever." Her response was a fumbling, "Um, I don't think we're letting folks drive today, just the ride-along. Hold on, I'll go double check." A few more minutes standing in the sun in my firesuit and she returns with confirmation, "Yup, just ride-alongs today. Do you still want to go?" My answer, trying to maintain my generally pleasant demeanor and realizing that this lady was not at fault for our misguided expectations, was a careful, "We drove all the way out here, so I'll do the ride-along, I guess." With that, she repeats her original statement, "$107." I had seen a credit card machine, so I got out my card, already thinking of what to do with an extra $300 of birthday money, something to fill the void left by the ineptitude of the GASS organization to complete their secondary mission of driving experiences for fans of motorsports. A few minutes later she had given up on the credit card machine, which had seemed to get stuck "transmitting" for some reason, so I pulled out some real paper money to fund my driving riding experience. I didn't have exact change, so I gave her five twenties and a ten, a total of $110. After fumbling around in an envelope stuffed with bills, she hands me back two dollars. I look at her silently, wondering if she is going to look again for my last dollar of change or if there's a fee for using real paper money. She seems to be taking no action, so I politely ask about the other dollar, reviewing the facts: I gave her $110, the experience costs $107, she gave me $2 change. Still a blank stare. I add another plea for simple math, after which she does the math aloud and finally concludes that I should have gotten $3 change. She doesn't have another dollar bill, just larger bills. Luckily, one of the drivers was standing there and forked over a dollar from his own wallet to square up the deal. What an arduous adventure, now finally ready to climb into a car and go fast around the track.
Although it doesn't really mean anything, I was kinda hoping to get a car claiming to be a Dodge, and I could have but it would have taken longer and I was ready to get on with the good part. I stood by a yellow and black car with a Ford decal, finished zipping and snapping my suit and then climbed in. My driver was very helpful at getting me strapped down and comfortable. As he fired up the motor, I drank in the pleasant aroma of high-octane race gas and played in the sandbox of tire rubber that had accumulated beside my seat. It was a very dirty environment, the seatbelts caked with dust and bits of rubber everywhere, but I was ready to get pushed back into my seat, my belts as tight as I could make them. We idled through part of the road course and down pit lane to get onto the track, the driver working hard at the clutch to manage the speed since it was geared so high. Now on the track, we pick up some speed, the driver weaving back and forth to warm up the tires, the yellow caution lights around the track flashing to note a speed limit until everybody was on the track. The green lights come on and the driver gets hard on the gas, but between the tall gears and being strapped in tightly I don't feel like I'm melting into the seat, though I do notice that the first turn (turn #3 by the time the light went green) is coming up fast. Off the gas, no brake, the drivetrain slowing the car as we dive toward the bottom of the track, holding the line before running back up toward the wall. Over and over again, on the gas hard, then off, dive to the bottom then run back toward the wall on the exit; the driver only gets about two or three seconds on the gas before he has to get off it to enter the turn; the longest part of every lap is the slow turns at both ends of the 7/8-mile oval. It all starts to look the same as the wall just keeps blurring by on the right and we just keep turning left over and over and over and over and after our hot laps are done the yellow lights start flashing again and we slow down and walk backwards through the four-speed gearbox until we're idling in first again and the driver is working the clutch to keep it moving slowly without stalling.
Our car comes to a stop back in line with the others and the driver flips off the relevant switches. I fumble with my HANS device to free myself and eventually manage to get out of the car and my firesuit. I thank the driver and chat with him briefly, taking a couple more pictures of his car and with him. I know he's a car guy and I respect that, I just wish the organization he races with could get a little more, um, organized so their experience could be a little bit less frustrating. We already decided that if the future holds another oval track experience for me, it'll be with the Petty people, but I think I'd really like to try something with fewer left turns, or at least more right turns. That said, the oval track experience was still an awesome birthday gift, even if it didn't turn out the way we expected. We wrapped up our visit to Newton with dinner at the Okoboji Grill and some ice cream at Culver's. Had we known things would work out the way they did, we wouldn't have driven four hours round-trip to ride in a race car for five minutes, but we still enjoyed the time together as a family and even had fun playing the "Why" game on the way home from Newton.
Although the location (way infield, with a port-a-potty in front of the track) and camera work weren't great (she was also trying to keep a three-year-old boy safe at a race track while filming), there is some footage of the car I was riding in. I didn't want to try editing the video, so what's here is the raw and uncut output from the wife's point-and-shoot camera, but it's better than nothing.
There are also some stills of me, the car and the driver.
(all photos)
P.S. I'm taking suggestions for how to spend the remaining $300. The SRT8 spare tire I want for Lucy (the Charger) exceeds that amount, so I've removed it from consideration for now. The reality is it'll probably get spent rebuilding the garage where Lucy lives, which is a good enough use (even if not really a gift).
First a Peanut, then a Sprout
It all started here:
and that was almost two months ago now. Since then we've taken some family announcement photos (see below) and even had some unplanned ultrasound photos taken of "Sprout":
As before, we'll be sticking with a generic codename until the baby arrives, this time it'll be Sprout. I even found a Mother's Day card "from your little sprout."
Official announcement photos courtesy of Cara Hocking Photography:
Formula J
While I'm not likely to win or even podium in the points championship, I have lately been participating in an online racing series launched by some guys on Jalopnik, called Formula J. The series is run on the Playstation 3 platform in a game called Gran Turismo 5, with points awarded for each race in the series based on finish order. Each "season" in the short series is five half-hour races, one each week, with the lowest result tossed out. There is also a ten-week series of hour-long races (the regular series), but I decided to start with the short series to see if it was something I could get into, enjoy, and be competitive.
So far, after the first three races in my first short season, I'm fourth overall in the points (out of twelve participants), having achieved 3rd, 3rd, and 5th place results. The most-recent was somewhat disputed (I failed to properly tune my aerodynamics for the faster, banked track and thought I finished worse than 5th, plus another driver had a strong opinion about my uninformed conduct as lapped traffic), but in the end the judges decided to just issue a warning and the result stood. I have no aspirations of placing any better than 4th when all is said and done, because the three fastest guys are very good, but I intend to put up a good fight, run clean races and have fun no matter what.
I mentioned in my last post that I had acquired a steering wheel and pedals for use with the PS3/GT5, and this racing series is proving that it was a good purchase. Racing in any form is so much more immersive with a wheel and pedals, though it is definitely more cumbersome to bury myself in cables and hardware for a little racing. Of course, as with so many things, each incremental step toward perfection highlights the need to take the next step. The online racing mode allows the participants to talk to each other before, during and after each race, but only if they have a bluetooth microphone/headset. It's a good thing my birthday is coming up so I have some way to justify acquiring another piece of entertainment technology, though if my birthday wasn't coming up I wouldn't have to wait to order it. ;)
Relatedly, though without any photographic proof, Noah continues to enjoy "driving" daddy's racing game on the big TV, especially with the steering wheel. We played a little bit last night and his favorite parts were driving over the bridge, driving through the tunnel, going into the pits to get new tires and picking a different car (based on color), but he's three so I wouldn't expect any more, I'm just glad he's digging cars and racing. His cars (matchbox and other sizes) are the only thing he plays with these days; the play kitchen he got for Christmas hasn't so much as nuked a plate of play food for the last couple months (which is fine with me). Maybe in a few years (when the PS4 comes out) we'll pick up another PS3/GT5 and compete with each other in Formula J; meanwhile, I'll continue to represent the household in the points championship and might even post the results of the first short season here (but don't bet on it).
Gran Turismo 5
One of the gifts I got for Christmas was the next installment in the Gran Turismo video game franchise for PS3 (I played GT3 on the PS2 and had GT4 but hadn't gotten very far into it yet). I finally broke the seal a couple weeks ago and have been playing in free moments since then. A few days ago, I asked Noah if he wanted to "race cars on the TV" and he thought that was a great idea. I gave him a quick tutorial (while he tried to pull the controller away from me) and then I let him steer while I operated the gas/brake. After about half a lap, he wanted to do it all by himself (kinda tricky for little hands on a controller designed for college students), but I let him try. The car (which he chose by color alone) was setup as a manual, but that didn't matter since he never got moving fast enough to need any gear beyond first. I think he truly enjoyed getting to play with one of daddy's toys, but I'm sure he'll be a more capable opponent as he grows up.
photos
With a recent windfall from work, I am working on rectifying the driving-without-a-steering-wheel situation; my new force feedback wheel/shifter/pedals (a Logitech G27) should arrive this week. I'll need to concoct some sort of rig for it since I don't play the PS3 sitting at my desk (I also have a couple wheels/pedals for playing PC games), but that shouldn't be too hard. We'll see how Noah and I do with a better input device; I bet I'll see a marked improvement in my lap times and I'm hoping Noah will at least develop an understanding of which way to turn the wheel to make the car move in the intended direction—well, that and which way the intended direction is. I'll post an update someday (along with the backlog of other stuff I keep planning to post) to let you know how it goes.
Happy Birthday, Jesus!
Sure, it's Christmas, but after several minutes of consideration I think I've decided that "Joyous Noel" fits better than "Merry Christmas." Christmas these days (and probably since before I was born) seems so commercialized and watered down, when all it really means is that Jesus came to bring us salvation. We don't need gifts to celebrate Christmas—mankind was already given the ultimate and perfect gift (whether we accept it or not). Society and its lust for things, its focus on self and its insatiable greed disgusts me, but even that crass consumerism doesn't make God turn away; He freely accepts anyone who will believe that He came, that He died and that He lives again, that the high price for our sin has been paid and that we can break free of the bondage of death and live for Him, as servants of the Most High God, not servants of ourselves and our culture.
Earlier this week the wife sent me this link to some other lady's blog with a post about Christmas from a Christian perspective. It's long, but I read the whole thing and agree with much of what is said there. We already do (or don't do) some of the things she talks about, but we are always looking for ways to live in a more genuine way as followers of Christ. I hope and pray that my words find you doing the same, or at least considering whether you still need to make the decision to honor the sacrifice and accept Christ's payment for your sins, making him the King of your life.
"Glory to God in the highest!"
Thank you, Jesus, for coming to bring us new life.
The Workyear Is Over
It's been done before, but that doesn't mean it can't get an update. Here's some random stats from my first eleven years of work:
This Year's Line Rider
Remember this game? (playable here) Well, there's a new one that is less goal oriented but more artsy: www.thesinglelanesuperhighway.com
I haven't actually tried making a car yet, but I did watch them for a while. Kinda neat, but I doubt I'd make time to create a car, especially given the limited tools (pencil, eraser) with which to draw one. Yes, I realize this is probably already viral and you've all seen it on your favorite social networking site; this is my social networking site. Enjoy!
Santa Doesn't Read The Bible
One of the traditions of Christmas since Mrs. Mosey was little has been the Christmas lights/decorations at Cedar Memorial, both outside on the real trees and inside the mausoleum on many artificial trees. Finding ourselves available this evening after a birthday party, we made the annual visit. One of the new attractions this year (at least it wasn't included last time we went) was a Santa. We fully expected that Noah would be afraid of him and weren't really even interested in that element of the Christmas decorations, but when we first walked in we were accosted by the hostess who made the reasonable-yet-incorrect assumption that we really wanted Noah to see Santa (and before all of the other decorations), so we weren't really able to avoid it.
As anticipated, Noah was afraid of Santa and didn't want to sit on him, give him a high five or even talk to him. Santa tried to get at least a name out of the little guy, but he wouldn't budge, so Santa started guessing: Luke? Matthew? Seeing that Noah wasn't going to offer an answer, I encouraged the game by responding that he hadn't guessed it yet, but that it was a name from the Bible (he may or may not have even realized that he was guessing Gospel names, but now he knew where to find ideas for further guesses). He tried another name from the New Testament and I shook my head while dropping another hint: try Old Testament names. Santa ran through the short list of Old Testament names he could think of: David? Before that. Isaac? Before that. At this point, I was trying to guess what his next guess was going to be; would he just go back to Abraham? Would he think Moses was appropriate as a modern name? Would he just shoot all the way back to Adam and then start working forward again? Nope, Santa just gave up completely. He didn't know any Old Testament names from the Bible other than David and Isaac. I dropped my jaw a little bit in disbelief, especially at a pseudo-religious event like a Christmas open house at a (I assume Catholic) mausoleum and cemetery, but I quickly covered by telling Santa that our little guy's name is Noah. Maybe this interchange will prompt Santa to read through the OT or maybe he's writing a blog post right now about the little twerp that quizzed him on something totally worthless and meaningless (to him). Who knows, but tonight's experience won't soon fade from my memory and I hope it won't from Santa's either.
Speaking of Santa, I figured out a good way to explain Santa (both tonight's and any others we happen to run into) in a way that will make sense to a little guy. I told him tonight that Santa isn't real and that it was just a guy dressed up in a costume, like on Halloween. He's already quite clear on what the best part of Christmas is: Jesus came for us!
Toddler Bed Report
The first day went better than could be expected. He slept until being woken up at 10am, took a nap with no problems and went to bed again tonight with no fuss and no messing around. He was even sleeping so well at the end of his nap that mommy was able to snap some photos (with flash!) without him waking up. Visible in this one is also the industrial fan that we've used to drown out noise overnight and during naps, though it seems to either have used up its bearings or be filled with dust and hair, because it started making some unpleasant noises and I'm concerned that it's a fire hazard; the nap pictured was its last stand, unless I can make it happy again after disassembling and rebuilding it. Anyway, the new bed is going splendidly and it even makes his room a bit more usable since it's against the wall (we had moved the crib away from the wall a while back to keep him from peeling off his wallpaper border any further).
12.16.2011 @ 2151 (0 comments)Big Boy Bed
Today marks the end of the Crib Era for our firstborn. We've had a toddler bed for a while (courtesy of a gift from a friend), but since Noah has never tried to get out of his crib, we hadn't felt any pressure to upgrade him to a bed and the freedom a bed provides isn't something we wanted to give him without really needing to. In fact, were it not for the crib at his local grandparents' house being smaller than usual and way too small for comfort (and probably safety), we likely wouldn't be abandoning our own crib just yet. If he's gonna be free to roam over there, though, he needs to learn the rules and boundaries here first.
He was super excited to use his "big boy bed" tonight and rushed us through our bedtime routine. Maybe it's the novelty of a new sleeping surface (though the mattress and sheets are the same as yesterday) or the fact that he's been real sleepy lately (sleeping until 10:30am today and still taking a two-hour nap this afternoon before being woken up at 5pm to be ready for supper), but he went right to sleep again tonight, just like he's been doing the last week or so in his crib. No talking, no moving around, just silence (the good kind, not the naughty kind). We'll see how the morning ends up working out, but he's relatively safe in his room, even if he does decide to wake up and get out of bed. After that, the next challenge will be nap time. Wonder how long the novelty will last and when it'll get hard to make him stay in the bed after putting him there and declaring it officially bedtime. Feel free to share any insights in comments below. Let the Toddler Bed Era commence!