Writing, Community, and Flat Track Racing

 

 When I started  thinking about what type of creative activity I wanted to get into in retirement earlier this year, I initially thought about music. I have sung with my local community Chorale, and played a little keyboard and guitar around the house, I've even written a few songs back in the day and used to harmonize with my late husband Joe who was a great singer and guitar player. A friend was getting back into playing and producing music, and about this time I reconnected with a friend from high school who has been playing guitar, singing and writing music for years. I never got past the thinking stage though.
     Somehow the idea of writing began to percolate in the back of my mind and I ran into a guy I know through some mutual friends who is a professional blogger and motorcycle journalist. I asked if I could read some of his writings, because he seemed really enthusiastic about what he was doing. He gave me his info and I started reading his work (see ehorseman.blogspot.com). I've never had much interest in motorcycles, even though both my brothers and two of my nephews ride, but this storyteller was able to use his words to connect me to the people on the bikes and the flat track racing community.
     In my lifetime I have  not followed sports outside of Phillies baseball and Eagles football, and the only races I've watched have been the Preakness, which is run in Joe's hometown of Baltimore, and maybe parts of the Indy 500, especially when Janet Guthrie broke into Pro racing. So the fact that I now have watched at least ten AMA Flat Track races this season, know the difference between Singles and Twins, and recognize the names and faces of a lot of the racers and am even planning to attend an event within a few hours away next month surprises me. Reading and talking about these people with the guy who first let me into this world has allowed me to become connected to a racing way of life I would not have wandered into on my own.
     I started writing my blog about the same time I started watching Flat Track. If you've read my stories so far, I've shared random thoughts and memories of my life. So why am I writing about American Flat Track today?  There have been riders injured since I started watching, but I had only heard about it after the fact, thanks to the work of AMA Pro Flat-Track Rookies Class of 79 and Friends, an organization that financially assists injured riders through fund-raising among the AFT community.
     This past month though, it seems there have been more accidents and injuries. Two weeks ago was the first time I saw the red flag come out while I was watching a race. I knew it had to be serious by the length of time it took to get the rider off the field. Unfortunately the young man succumbed to his injuries nine days later. Another racer who has been successful for years is battling back from a serious injury after a recent accident, and just a few days ago I saw the red flag come out again and two other young riders were taken out in ambulances. Fortunately they have been released from the hospital, but I guess time will tell if they'll be able to resume riding.
     After every injury and in the time of loss, I see the AFT family join together in supporting one another. Though they all compete on the raceway, in the world outside the race they are all connected in a way we folks outside can only observe and appreciate.  I guess that is what I'm writing about today. No matter the community, we all have our connections that sustain us- family, faith, recovery.
Let's all take care of  and love one another.
     Go out there and have a good day!

Going to The Feast

   

 Well, I had been thinking about doing a bit on the Feasts that I went to over the years, and this weekend is the Holy Savior feast.. I don't know if it was growing up Italian American in Norristown or not, but it seemed that there were always celebrations of some Saint's day either in our parish or our town, or somehow Grandmom knew of events a hundred miles or more away.
     I can't remember all the names, but I recall they were frequently held in small churches, often in what seemed the middle of nowhere. Grandmom would charter a bus and load up a lot of family and friends to go to Vineland or Hammonton, NJ . I think one of these was for Our Lady of Mount Carmel. There was Saint Rocco's in Martin's Creek, PA. There was always hundreds of people crammed into churches meant for half as many people for Mass, usually followed by a procession and then the feasting would begin.
     There was food and music and rides and vendors and people coming from far away to celebrate. I remember the smell of chicken grilling on open pits in Vineland, always served with a fresh tomato from a nearby farm and, I think, a bag of chips. The celebration of Saint Therese in Nesquehoning,PA was a big draw to another small town on the edge of the Pocono Mountains. It seemed to me that hundreds of buses would crowd the small streets of a town on the side of a mountain and the day always ended with a helicopter dropping rose petals over the town to remember  Saint Theresa "The Little Flower".

     But in my mind and my life The Feast was and continues to be in my little town of Norristown, in what was our family parish, Holy Savior. Held every August, it signals for me the winding down of summer celebrations. As with all the others, the Mass is followed by a procession which used to pass by our front door, For years my Mom would hand out cold water to the people walking to honor God. But as a kid and, even now, it's about food and tradition. If you've ever attended, you know the year is not complete unless you've had a roast pork sandwich and fried dough at the feast.

     When I was little I remember the excitement of being allowed to go with my friends or by myself and wandering around in the crowd. Everyone was lost in  having fun, good food, company and music. It was a community party. I guess that is still the joy in summer gatherings, whether it's a local music festival, a PowWow. state fair or motorcycle races. Anyway, I'm getting off track.
     Last night I met my Mom and my sister at Mass before the Feast. I parked around the corner on Sandy Street, half a block from where I grew up, right next to Holy Savior school. I walked past Penn Street where Charlotte,  my best friend from grade school lived. I'm so glad that twenty-first century media has allowed us to reconnect. After Mass, I ran into another classmate, Linda,  who has stayed in touch with my Mom over the years because they still  attended church there. She reminded me of sharing test answers back in seventh grade, which I didn't remember. Funny thing is I remembered jamming fingers and breaking my glasses because I would literally run into her playing basketball.  We would both go for the ball  but she was always stronger and faster. I never was much of an athlete, but I'm glad to know I helped her pass that test.  I sometimes run into another classmate at The Feast, but I didn't see Josephine there this year.
     Every year we say we have to go to the feast because it might be the last time to attend for Mom who is ninety-four. Every year it gets harder to find a seat to sit and enjoy our pork sandwich and fried dough. Every year there are fewer people for my Mom to connect and reminisce with . Right now as I'm wiping away tears as I write, I know that we will probably go again next year as long as Mom is still able, and maybe I'll continue long after that.
     I had planned to write today, maybe even start on that book I've been thinking about. These thoughts will likely find their way into that book, but I needed to share this today. It's only been a few months since I started writing, but it had been so rewarding to let new people into my world and reconnect with lost friends. I am grateful to my writing community, which continues to grow, for your support. and especially to the person God placed in my path to get me started - Thank you Michael.

Loving Life

   Wow! What a great weekend I just had. It was nothing extraordinary and yet it was. Catching up with old friends and family, lots of music, outdoor exercise. And somehow it all felt connected together.
     Last Wednesday I finally saw the cataract surgeon and scheduled my surgery for October. I'm looking forward to being able to drive at night and just generally see better- especially "The Colors"
people tell me I've been missing- Sorry, I have to smile- I just remember how special that phrase sounded back in my younger days. And to all those who have offered me rides to and from the eye doctor- I will be calling, and appreciate the offers of help.
     Asking for help and letting people in is still hard for me sometimes, though I'm getting a little better. For a good part of my life I've taken care of myself and even when married or in a relationship I had no trouble going off and doing my own thing. Maybe it's the idea of not being able to drive safely wherever and whenever I want.  Maybe that now that I'm living alone for the first time in a lot of years,  I need to open up to others if I'd like company instead of having another person around to talk to all the time, even when it wasn't always the best situation.
     Anyway, this weekend, I got to spend time with my brother Mike who was visiting from South Carolina and caught up with an old friend who I used to work with and hardly see any more. Then I was going to spend time at a music festival, with no plans to meet up with any one, but as so many times lately, my plan is not the only plan in action. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, an outdoor fundraiser with ten live acts, each one better than the one before. I looked up and saw someone I have met a couple of times before, sitting with an old neighbor of mine who also enjoys live outdoor music, and with them was a woman I hadn't seen in probably ten years. She and I had a great time catching up, we all had fun listening to the music and even getting up and dancing, which I love but never do outside of my apartment anymore!  I finished up the evening spending time with my brother and some friends.

     On Sunday morning I was planning to drive twenty miles to the "Hippie Church" up the road for Peace Sunday, but couldn't drag myself out of bed in time. I drove to my local trail for a walk, but there was nowhere to park, so I left and went to my local church instead. I don't recall the exact readings, but they had something to do with God feeding His people and Jesus feeding the crowds. The thing I did hear was when the priest related how when parents fill the fridge and cabinets with food, and kids then open the door and can't find anything to eat. The message being, we can sometimes not see or appreciate all the blessings and gifts we've been given. That touched me deeply with gratitude.
     In the afternoon I listened to a webinar on Shamanism and was reminded of the healing power of living life daily with honor and respect. Then I attended a Hymn festival led by the director of the Norristown Chorale, a local community chorus that I have sung with in the past.  The music for the day was from various faiths and cultures and was a reminder that no matter how we worship or address a Higher Power, there is one God who connects us all in Spirit.
   As if my weekend wasn't full enough, my son Sean came up for dinner. We've both been pretty busy lately and it felt good to sit and spend a couple of hours together. We made plans to attend a music festival together next month. Even though our musical tastes are varied, we can on occasion just share the joy of music together. And since my late husband Joe, was a non-professional musician, I have a feeling he will be joining is in spirit.

     After Sean left, I sat down to watch a little American Flat track racing, a new interest I'm still learning about. After a long rain delay, it was exciting. A different layout than I've seen before, with a lot more crowding and more that a couple of restarts. One of the riders I've been following went down and wasn't able to finish, but thankfully he did get up and I hope to see him and some of the other racers next month at William's Grove which is not too far up the road.
     Wow! That felt good. It's been a little while since I wrote anything,  though I've started a couple of times.  I am so grateful to have people in my life and I do tend to have trouble keeping a balance between quiet reflection and meaningful sharing, but I am alive and open to whatever comes next and  that feels beautiful today.