The Lost Weekend! Long Beach Grand Prix and more…
Thanks to everybody who contacted me and wondered if I was OK because I didn’t post anything this weekend.
Other activities have kept me out of the water.
However, I have heard that the Old Marineland access is open again; but the conditions sucked.
FRIDAY
So, I took Friday off to go to the Long Beach Grand Prix.
I walked to the liquor store and purchased beer and pocket shots of vodka before continuing on to Rock’s of Long Beach on Long Beach Blvd.
Eyewitness News was outside the gas station…

I do live in the ghetto, so it isn’t uncommon for the news to be in the area to cover the latest drive by.

I sat in the bar, drinking a beer, while I hid all my contraband booze in my cooler and in my backpack.
Someone yelled, “Hey, she’s right outside!”

I grabbed my stuff, slammed my beer and ran out the door.
My last words to the bar were, “I’m going to get on TV!”
They were still broadcasting, but as soon as the cameraman saw me charging – Maybe my green hat scared them? – they shut the light off, jumped in their van and took off.
Yet another moment of fame ruined!
Apparently, the crew was doing a story on how expensive gas is getting…

Another reason to take the bus downtown!
After a 20 minute ride on the bus with an interesting assortment of commuters, I arrived at the Grand Prix and immediately checked out the beer prices…

Everything is expensive to a captive audience waiting to get ripped off.
I bought a cigar from the Cuban Cigar Factory and proceeded to find a seat to watch the qualifying.
Not many race fans were around at noon, so I sat down, lit my cigar and proceeded to open the false bottom of my “lunch box.”

I was able to get eight beers in, under blue ice, with no problem.
Yes, there was a bag check upon entry to thwart terrorists and cheapskates.
I’m not dumb enough to give public details on how I managed, but lets face it – If you aren’t too greedy and don’t try and take a case in, and you don’t look like a suicide bomber, you can save a few bucks by bringing in a few beers to start with.
So, I’m sitting in the bleachers and this hot chick that was sitting down wind of my cigar kept looking at me every so often…

…I could tell she wanted me really bad, but I did not give in to temptation.
Qualifying started, so I got out my high end $120 digital camera to capture the action.
The thing that sucks is, by the time the camera thinks and focuses, the car is already gone.
Most of my pictures of passing race cars looked like this…

However, I did have better luck once the Tire Delivery race began…


After qualifying, I walked around to the various turns and found the donor of my tickets for the weekend…

Yes, my friend is a flagger.
If his flag accidentally caught on fire due to an accident, he would be a flaming flagger.
Thanks again for the tickets, Matt!
I was able to get a good spot to watch more cars on an over pass near the Aquarium of the Pacific…


Then it was on to the indoor expo…

I passed by the Mach 5…

Speed Racer was my favorite cartoon when I was a child, and now a new generation of youth will get to experience cheaply made Japanese cartoons, too.
On my way out, I passed by the Hawaiian Gardens Casino booth where they were holding a four hand demo Blackjack tournament…

Whoever got the most chips after four hands got laid!
I have many more talents other than beer drinking, SCUBA diving and cage fighting…

…and Blackjack is one of them!
I took the bus back home, stopping by Rock’s again…the rest of the night is fuzzy.
SATURDAY
Now it’s time to take Jane to the races; I had to iron my T-shirt for her to be seen with me.
Instead of torturing her with a city bus ride, I decided the train would be faster…

…and it was.
We were given a true Southern California greeting with the Tecate Mariachi band…

We hit the expo first, checking out some of the displays that I was too drunk to remember from yesterday.

I talked to some Navy recruiters who told me I was too old to join, but that I should go see the Army – they will take recruits up to 42.
We were admiring the different black and white paint styles of the four Police cars on display, when…

…a small child walked up to the Police car and started to take a piss on it.
We toured the other booths and Indy Car displays…

Once outside we were able to watch a “drifting” demo race…

(Photo By Matzger)
“Drifting” is where they intentionally skid sideways through the turns – excitement is one measure that the race is judged by.
Drifting is one of the coolest types of racing I’ve ever witnessed – second only to figure eight.
We found different seats – well, free seats – to watch the next race.
On the big screen, they showed Samba dancers…

Jane’s first reaction, being a native Brazilian, was “These are American Samba dancers, they don’t move like Brazilians.”
She was not impressed; but loved the “vibes” of the race…


We left soon after.
I almost got a J-walking ticket trying to make the train.
The cop said, “Hey, what color is that light?”
“Red,” I said.
“Well, you’re lucky the train wasn’t moving, you would have gotten run over and dragged.”
He started to get his ticket book out.
I said, “The train goes the other way; how would I have gotten run over?”
He thought for a few seconds.
“Get out of here!” he said.
SUNDAY
Hung over and dehydrated from two days of partying at the Long Beach Grand Prix, I promised my two tickets to a friend and his girlfriend for Sunday.
Even with sneaking the first eight beers in, I managed to blow $100 a day at the Grand Prix; so money wise, staying away for day three was a good fiscal move.
My brother and I attended the 11th Annual Copa Pacifica Ultimate Jiu Jitsu Death Match Competition to watch some friends fight.
I did not compete this year like I did last year.

I haven’t seen my cage fighting friends for over two months; they were surprised to see me.
“Are you still training?” a friend asked.
“Only twelve ounce curls lately,” I responded.
I gained so much weight, especially over the last few days of drinking.
I need to get back into shape… I need to start working out again and quit beer for a while; maybe as long as a week.
My friends ended up getting their asses handed to them; since they were the ones that would always kick my ass, it wouldn’t have been any different for me.
Interesting to note, there is a John Wayne Jiu Jitsu team?

After I got home, I collapsed from exhaustion… what a weekend!


