Damned-Near Perfect: There are only three things I would change about Miami: I’d have avoided a red eye flight if possible (it wasn’t) and not missed the first evening’s fun; I’d have made the weather 15 degrees cooler and half-again as humid as it was; and Shane Rogers would have heard his birthday wishes in person, right outside in the shade of the media center.
As it was, I was hot and tired and without @shagers for the extra laughs, but it was a funtastic time at Homestead for the IndyCar finale. My boy Dario won the race and the title, I at least had one good night out with my Tweeps, and I got to spend long, lovely mornings at the hotel with my pal J, who came down from central Florida and spent time with his music pals while I did race stuff.
I even got to see a few places besides the room and the track. Went to Coconut Grove for a bit, took in a meal and a sandy stroll in South Beach, and socialized in skanky Florida City, where race folks chased clandestine encounters or holed up in their seedy rooms for a little illicit online sex chat. Well, that’s the kind of town it seemed to be, anyway.
My room near the airport was quite nice – top floor, 10 stories up, facing a golf course with the Miami skyline in the distance. Lots of people moaned before the trip about how bad the traffic would be. I had no problems getting anywhere and only hit pockets of slower traffic at the Homestead exits on race day. Piece of cake.
The time at the track was spent hiding from the sun or crawling pit lane with fellow camera-toting Tweeps. Met some fantastic folks and really enjoyed Homestead. Had what looked to be a nice seat for the race, but spent the whole race in the pits, mostly pit-out, getting shots of cars and stars and being right there for the wife drama as the last laps unfolded: Emma Dixon gnawing on what looked like a plastic bag with ice in it; Ashley Judd taking a slow, measured walk down into turn one to shake off some nerves; both women, married to teammates, congratulating and consoling one another when the outcome was known. It was my first time to attend a championship-deciding race and the strategies and people drama lent some excitement to what was otherwise not a terribly notable race.
Already hating that the season is over…is it March yet? 🙂