Life panics

Life is crazy and busy and good. Right now I've got the Roots' new Rising Down CD on a continuous loop. I spent Sunday afternoon watching the Talladega race and Sunday night watching Atmosphere perform at Webster Hall. Literally, I watched Kyle Busch in Victory Lane for a second, heard the cab that would take me and my good friend Yemaya to Webster honk for me outside, kissed my wife, and *ran* out that door!!! I could have been much happier with the race's results, even though I like Kyle Busch (and Juan Pablo Montoya and Denny Hamlin, second and third respectively.) It was still pretty excellent to see both that race and that concert all in one 24-hour span!

I also hold a couple sets of tickets: the Roots at Radio City Music Hall on May 9 and the NASCAR race at Dover on September 21st. Dover's not one of my favorite tracks--I have referred to it as "Dismal Dover"--but it is close-ish and my friends and I liked it better than Watkins Glen upstate. It's been years since me and L'Ailee saw a race. We're going with a group of ten, the core group that's usually at our place to watch the race on TV. One thing that's strikingly different about watching the race at our place, as opposed to other venues, is the food and drink. I'll fix you an avocado-and-jalapeno-jack panini and give you chilled white or rose wine to wash it down with. Several members of the core group prefer to drink wine or mixed drinks rather than beer, and I found the absolute perfect thing to bring--"bullets" of wine by Three Thieves, which are sort of like very grown-up juice boxes. I'm happy to find them, because I haven't seen Sofia Minis in a while.

Poor cute Tony Stewart. He shocked everyone by expressing his openness to leaving Gibbs Racing if he can find a better contract deal elsewhere. There are theories--he wants to race a Chevrolet again, he wants more control, he's trying to let the team he's been very loyal to for ten years know not to take him for granted. All seem valid, but I think the main thing is he's having a life panic. Most people don't talk about the psychological game; L'Ailee says the psych game is always the main part, and I totally agree with that.

Hear me out: He's going to be 37 this year. He's got gray in his hair and five-o-clock shadow, and he's probably feeling his many injuries. He has not won a Sprint Cup race this season. Yes, the season is young, and yes, he does better as the temps get hotter, but he hasn't and both of his teammates have. The one teammate, 23-year-old Kyle Busch, is entering the height of his powers and getting all the attention. He never had to work out. Now Carl "Abs of Steel" Edwards is changing that game. At the championship banquet last November, other drivers had videos of them with their wives played; his was with his longtime crew chief and good friend Greg Zippadelli. With a wistful look, Stewart joked that Zippy was his wife now. All of these things seem, to me, like circumstances that could get a man growing his hair out longer than ever, or allowing his friend to wax his back, or making a decision that could send a seismic shock through the rest of his life. Of course, I could be wrong, and only Tony and the people closest to him know for sure what's going on. However, the guys I mentioned my theory to shifted their feet and looked a bit uncomfortable. They're in their thirties, too.

It's not just Gen-X boys who can have life panics, of course. I think I'm about due for a mini-life panic, at least, at 34 years old. I'm getting my certification in interior decorating this summer, and I'm not at all certain what I'm going to do with it. I recently remembered that once upon a time, I wanted to write books. It's so easy to slip from being a writer to wanting to be a writer to having "written once." All you need is to let the weeds in your life choke out your creativity and keep you away from that keyboard or notebook long enough. In fact, that's originally why I started blogging--to keep in practice.

Now I'm going back to ideas that I'd let drop (rejection letters *can* have an effect on a girl!) and laying out a new one as well. I'm carrying a notebook with me again and writing in it obsessively, on the bus and at lunch and everything, because I got *it* back. Once again my brain is like a biscuit and everything around me is gravy for it to sop up. I stopped taking Lexapro in January, after about three and a half years on it, and while I needed it, I really think it's making a difference to be off it. At least, TTG, I'm not also miserable as well as creative. When I started on Lexapro, I wasn't even creative anymore, just miserable and numb, so I didn't notice any difference then. I am telling L'Ailee to keep an eye on me and tell me if I get weird on her. She'll be more than obliging.

Of course, there are much worse things than thirtysomething life panics. Sean Bell's family and fiancee know that. I'm just grateful that neither Giuliani or Bloomberg will be president next year, like they wanted.

Links, links:

Dave Barry's got a blog--yay! I'm sure others have known for a while, but it's happy news for me!

What the hell is wrong with a candidate being a bit smarter than the rest of us? Even a little "elitist"? Seriously? I know I want someone smarter than myself to be president. Roger Simon at Politico sums up the stupidity of the "Obama is an elitist" charge rather nicely.

Speaking of "elitism," I loved This Modern World this week.

Beltaine, the Wiccan/NeoPagan fertility holiday, is May 1st. Here's a little history.

A story of love but not marriage.

Finally, this ought to come in really handy in NYC!