7 Reasons to Love Turbo

A loyal Indy Car fan, there was never any question that I would see Turbo.  I even had my picture taken with him at the Indy 500 this year, at my mom's request.  I wasn't all that enthusiastic about it at the time, but now that I've seen it, I'm impressed.  Turns out, this movie is worth seeing.   

• It's so real, you forget it's fake.  There is not a paint stripe out of place.  If you know that track, you won't be disappointed.  When Turbo first arrives at the track, there is a drop dead gorgeous montage of real scenes that are still fresh in my mind from May.  I was bouncing in my seat when I saw the perfectly proportioned and painted number 12 car of Will Power.  The cars weren't too fast for the track, so it wasn't too cartoon-ish.  Actually--it was an animated movie about a snail who races in the Indy 500, but there wasn't much that was cartoon-ish about it.  It was a whole lot more realistic than Driven, the 2001 train wreck chronicling a season of CART.  But then again, that's not saying much.  (I'm criticizing the movie, not CART.)       
• In the theater, you're surrounded by kids.  I was kind of dreading that ahead of time, but there were some undeniably captivating open wheel racing scenes, and I was happy they were seeing it.  I was hoping that it had the tiniest bit of influence on just a few of them.  I love open wheel racing, and I just want people to know that auto racing isn't synonymous with NASCAR.  It's not that there's anything wrong with NASCAR.  It's just not all there is.  It was nice to hear everyone in the world of Turbo raving about the Indy 500 for a change.       
• Guy Gagné has a wonderful name.  So, everybody is writing a novel, right?  Which means everybody's been through the struggle of naming characters.  Choose a name that means something significant about the character, say baby name websites that include advice for aspiring authors.  And that's just what the makers of Turbo did.  "Gagné" is the past tense of the French verb "gagner" which means "to win."  Simple, and not too obvious.  A winning choice indeed.   
• One of the drivers' names is Shelby. Oh my gosh!  That's my name!  I just might be happy forever now.  But in all seriousness, I'm elated she was there and running up front.  It's a tiny, tiny detail, but it's important.  Perhaps the fact that it was such a little part is what made it so important.  I don't mind when female drivers get attention; I think it's pretty clear that it's hard to be a woman in a male-dominated sport.  (If you disagree, then you should give it a shot.)  However, I love it best when there isn't any fanfare at all.  It says, yes, she's here.  And she's a driver just like everybody else.  There was an incomplete little sound bite about a Shelby Stone in the pre-race coverage in Turbo, and her name was mentioned a few other times.  Of course, her being a woman was completely irrelevant to the plot, but that's just it.  They didn't want to make her gender part of the plot, so they could have just put another male driver there.  But they didn't.  Me and all the little girls in the theater, we saw a competitive woman driver, and I promise, that is important.    
• Social media. I don't often see kids' movies; I'm not sure if all the latest ones reflect our smart phone culture as perfectly as Turbo.  Turbo got to race in the Indy 500 because a video of him went viral.  That was part of the plot.  It wasn't just a little bit thrown in to make the parents laugh--this is the world now, and that plot point keeps the story relevant.  That shot where everyone in the stands had their phones out?  I'm only eighteen and I remember a time before texting and Twitter.  But all those kids in the theater don't.  This is the world they know and this movie is right in with it.            
• It's actually pretty engaging.  Not entirely unpredictable, but what movie is?  I sat down in the theater assuming the only good parts would be at the Speedway.  And the best parts were at the Speedway.  But there were definitely other good parts.  
• That was really Paul Page.  I checked IMDb.  It was.                                                                       

Go see it.  Right now.  Wait, what am I saying?  You'll only be mad it's not May yet.  

Where are the Marketing Degrees?

It seems that Indy Car has found the sweet spot when it comes to road racing.  I must say that the quality of the ovals has worsened.  Okay, I admit I was biased toward road courses to start with, but before Texas especially, I tuned in prepared for the usual good action and was disappointed.  Toronto was a breath of fresh air after the long stretch of ovals and after Saturday's race, all I could think was, "We get to do this all again tomorrow."  These double headers are growing on me.  

There were a few pieces to the weekend that were a bit unsavory, however, and a lot of it goes back to marketing--that one thing Indy Car just can't get right, that one thing that's keeping the series down.  NASCAR's marketing?  It's solid gold.  Everybody knows what it is.  This may have something to do with the fact that I'm from North Carolina, but still, if I say the words "Indy Car" to someone, they picture NASCAR.  Despite NASCAR's widespread popularity, I can't believe that it's just what people prefer, much less that Indy Car is an inferior product.  Indy Car is just extremely different.  And because it's so different, it can't ride on NASCAR's tidal wave.  It has to make its own name, and it's not.  

So, here's hoping the rumors are true that Tom Garfinkel will be coming to Indy Car.  But it's not just how you promote the series.  You have to deliver what you promise, and this weekend in Toronto, race control fell just a little bit short.  

It started before the beginning.  The first-ever Indy Car standing start was a selling point of the weekend.  On Saturday there was just one attempt, and then it was called off and they went ahead with the flying start.  That said, I was not at all interested in the concept anyway.  Indy Car is a different product from Formula One--it has to be, or the two series couldn't coexist.  Therefore, in Indy Car, there are flying starts, just as there are ovals in addition to road courses.  Regardless, we were told that we would see a standing start on Saturday, and it just didn't happen.  That's not the right precedent to set.  At least they went ahead with it on Sunday.  (Though it was just as anticlimactic as I expected it to be.)

Then there was the penalty for Dario Franchitti.  He is not my favorite driver, but the call was wrong.  Yes--he did move over.  I saw it as a subconscious reaction to Will Power suddenly appearing underneath him, and others believed it was indeed on purpose.  But at least in the room I was in, everyone agreed that all the drivers had been doing that all day and the call should not have been made.  Particularly after the race.  Most people hate to see a race won or lost in the pits, so nobody wants to see nitpick-y rules get in the way.  As my dad said, the results should only be reviewed after the race if there was a violation that couldn't be ignored.  But then again, Brian Barnhart was calling the shots this weekend.

The only thing worse than making a crippling, incorrect call?  Taking it all back the next day.  You want to make those decisions?  Then just leave it.  I guess I'm happy things were set right, and I bet that's how most people are feeling.  But, personally?  Make the call or don't, but pick one.

All I'm saying is that this is a spectator sport.  If we're promised a standing start and if (for some reason...) we want to see it, we need to get it.  We want to see cars battling for position, on the track, start to finish.  And even though the rule book is important, it's only there because it has to be.  It's there to keep things safe and fair.  It's not there to punish drivers for trying to maintain their position in the closing laps of a race.

*DISCLAIMER*:  I hate blocking.  I am NOT saying drivers should be able to defend their position to the point of blocking.  There is a difference between actually coming off the racing line and driving aggressively.

      

Now the last unfortunate thing about the weekend is a much bigger hurdle as far as marketing goes.  We've been having the most interesting season in so long...until now.  Coming into Toronto, we had eight different winners from seven different countries.  We had three first-time winners.  Helio Castroneves, who has always been one of the strongest drivers but has never won a championship, continues to hang on to the points lead.  Even when Ganassi had luck at Pocono with Scott Dixon, it was nice to see the other half of the big two get their rhythm back.  But after Dixon scored his third win in a row today, now that we're headed to Mid-Ohio where he is unquestionably the favorite, I'm afraid the last leg of the season is going to look a lot like it did last year.  Of course, it doesn't matter how many marketing degrees a person has--a lot of this is out of their hands.  Talent and skill can't and shouldn't be stifled.  We are going in the right direction with the two engine manufacturers, the red and black tires, and the aero packages that will debut in 2015.  We've just got to keep the competition tough.  We've got to keep one or two big teams from dominating.  Because, for most of the races this season, I've been genuinely unsure of what would happen next and completely excited to find out.                  

   

A Spectacle of Spectacles

As I left the Indianapolis Motor Speedway yesterday, I counted all the 500s I'd ever been to and came to nine.  That's not many, is it?  Maybe for an eighteen-year-old.  My very first race seems like recent history until I remember that it was eight years ago.  And even that doesn't seem so significant until I think that the difference between age ten and age eighteen is the same as the difference between age ten and age two.  It's been a short eight years, and yet I've learned so much.  I've gone so many places and met so many people.

It's been a short eight years, and yet I've seen the history books amended many times.  I saw a woman lead the Indianapolis 500 for the first time in 2005.  In 2006, I witnessed Michael Andretti leading under caution with very few laps to go--only to be passed by his nineteen-year-old rookie son, who then became the first driver to lead the white flag lap and not win the race.  2009 welcomed Helio Castroneves to the exclusive three-time winner club, and in 2012, Dario Franchitti joined him.  2011 gets the award for the most spectacular finish, our hearts first breaking for the rookie J.R. Hildebrand and then rejoicing for Dan Wheldon.

Even the less dramatic years will leave their mark on history.  As my dad pointed out, certain drivers will be remembered for domination.  Dario Franchitti will surely be one of them, taking all three of his wins within six years of each other.  I will look back on 2008 recalling that all month, it had been only Scott Dixon's race to lose.  Some may classify yesterday's race in the less exciting category, too, simply for the fact that it ended under caution.  I couldn't disagree more.

In the first thirty laps, it was clear that we were on track to break the record for most lead changes.  It was demolished, growing from 34 to 68.  There were 14 different leaders, up from 12 in 1993.  27 cars were running at the finish, the most since 1911.  And on top of all of that, it was the fastest race ever with an average speed of 187.433.

This race flew by.  Yes, it actually was the shortest one.  The cool weather made it much easier to sit for so long.  But these drivers, they were keeping me on my toes.  This race never settled in.  We never got to a point where we could make predictions.  The leader was never safe (though not without help from the drafting made possible by the DW12).  They were always close--but they stayed clean.  Every yellow was a single-car incident.  I adored seeing the back stretch a total mess, and watching in admiration as they sorted it out before the turn.  I was on my feet whenever someone got two positions at once.

We had worried about Carlos Munoz, a rookie with minimal seat time and a penchant for passing low, starting in the middle of the front row.  He proved us all wrong.  He never had a weak moment.  A.J. Allmendinger seemed for awhile to be the hardest driver to pass.  E.J. Viso was more impressive than he had ever been.  It was fun to watch Ed Carpenter's charge from the pole in the beginning.  And of course, Tony Kanaan, Marco Andretti, and Ryan Hunter-Reay got themselves to the front and never looked back.

My brother's girlfriend, who came to the race for the first time yesterday, had picked Tony Kanaan to win.  It was a wise choice because he can never be counted out, but after so long, I didn't dare to hope.  He has always been more than capable, but luck gets in the way.  Yesterday, it cleared a path to victory for him.  No driver brings more people to their feet by taking the lead.  Everyone was behind him yesterday; we always have been.  Finally, it was his turn.  I'd be hard pressed to find someone who deserves it more.  It seemed the field was in agreement, giving him congratulations from the cockpit and stopping his victory lap to hug him.

This is our race.  This is our series.  Some people want to see crashes, and rivalries, and trading paint, and green-white-checkereds.  If that's what you like, then you've come to the wrong place, because the Indianapolis 500 is much bigger than all of that.  People give everything they have to try to win here, and that can bring out the worst in them.  What I see in most of our drivers, though, is that it brings out the best.   There is fraternity in loving this race.  Those thirty-three drivers may be competing against each other, but they are still somehow in it together.  They race side by side, but give each other room.  They all want to win, but they are bonded by that desire.  And they can appreciate talent and determination in those they are trying to beat just as much as they could in the drivers they grew up watching.  

For over a century, this peerless test of machine, skill, and perseverance has fulfilled dreams and dashed hopes.  It has propelled careers and created legends.  Sometimes we forget how powerful it really is, but yesterday brought it all back to the forefront.  Records were broken, proof that auto racing is still about progress.  They stayed clean because we're here for speed and not destruction.  Thousands of spectators and thirty-three drivers congratulated Tony Kanaan because a man who worked harder than anyone finally saw it pay off.  In the end, I cried tears of joy, and I wasn't the only one.

This is the Indianapolis 500, the Greatest Spectacle in Racing.  

     
        

Taking the Green

I love windmills for the same reason I love race cars; they somehow have the same spirit.  They are larger than life.  They are testaments to progress.  They're neat looking.  And they give me endless hope for the future.  

There are layers upon layers of things to love about racing, and many of the things that make this sport special to me, I got from my family.  In a perfect world, I would never let the month of May pass without getting to see my aunts and uncles in Indianapolis and listening to them talk about the old days.  One of the highlights of Indy weekend is seeing the vintage cars out on the track.  I do love my DW12,  and I also love knowing that one day, I'll see a DW12 the same way my dad sees a March.  The roadsters of the fifties and sixties, which look positively ancient now, were the cars of my great aunts and uncles' generation.  Tradition is a significant part of all of this.  

Racing traditions--the personal and the universal--began long ago and are still being made.  But there is one that stands out from the rest, because it has been there from the beginning:  the tradition of being every that's good about innovation.  Racing has always been the testing ground for new technology that can be applied to our daily lives.  This progress has always been an intensely beautiful thought to me.  It's like the feeling I get when I land a window seat on a plane, right on top of the wing, and I get to see it rise up from the ground.  It's proof that humans are capable of defying every accepted definition of possible.   

In times like these, it is crucial that we push innovation in racing.  We are facing a global climate crisis.  This past winter pushed this crisis to the very front of my mind.  Though some people got plenty of snow, many of us were sweating.  Here in North Carolina, temperatures often reached the seventies.      

Climate change has always been an issue of concern for me.  But we're no longer talking about what will happen if we don't make a change.  We're watching it happening.  The ship is leaving the harbor.  People of my generation are now having to prepare for huge changes in the not-so-distant future.  It's easier to brush it off as a hoax than it is to face the problem head on, because it is, in a word, terrifying.  But it doesn't have to be.  We can fix it.  We don't have to sit idly by.  Why shouldn't auto racing lead the charge?  Our future can be greener, cleaner, and more beautiful.  It makes sense that the fastest route there is with the fastest cars on earth.           

Starting the Biggest Race of My Life

For the past week or so, I have had to drive home knowing that I could open the mailbox and see a letter from Salem College sitting inside.  I've looked for the letter for months, even when I knew it was too early for it to be there.  For two weeks, I grabbed my bag and locked the car as if it were Pole Day at Indy, just to get to the mailbox.  But on Friday, I guess I just knew it was time.  I stopped the car on a dime, ripped the key out of the ignition, and left the door open.  When I opened the mailbox, the Salem College logo was staring me in the face.  I tore open the envelope--it's in pieces now--and a little card fell out.  I left it on the ground and dropped the envelope, struggling to reach the first sentence of the letter.

"It is my special privilege..."

I should have known at the word "privilege," but I wouldn't let myself believe it yet.

"It is my special privilege to inform you that the Salem College Committee on Admissions has accepted you as a member of the first year class for fall 2013."

Did it say what I thought it said?  My University of North Carolina Charlotte envelope had said "Congratulations!  You've been accepted!" in huge, green letters on the outside.  This sentence was vague by comparison.  I read it and reread it, but couldn't think of a way I would have misconstrued the wording.

So, deciding that I had indeed been accepted to Salem College, I proceeded to run laps around the street, screaming.  (No one called the police or even came outside to see if I was being kidnapped, so I hope I never actually need help.)

Salem is the college of my dreams.  It is a small women's college in Winston-Salem, North Carolina.  A year ago, I had no interest in any place that fit that description, but everything I thought I'd hate about it is what I love about it.  Really, all that's missing is a kart track.  But fear not!  Charlotte is only an hour away.  Virginia International Raceway, my second home, is an hour and a half up the road.  There are stock cars at Bowman Gray Stadium on Saturday nights.  And the owners of my home kart track are talking about opening another location, so I'm trying to convince them that Winston-Salem is the ideal spot.

There are myriad reasons that I will be saying yes to Salem College, but most of all, I believe I can do whatever I want there.  I have all sorts of crazy ideas that haven't  finished forming yet, but at Salem, no one would call them crazy.  It seems to be the type of place where you could talk to anyone, and they would say, "What can I do to help you with that?"  As an aspiring motorsports journalist, I need this outlook.  I need to believe I am capable of anything and everything.  Over the next four years, I will gain the education, experience, and attitude that will help me reach my dream of working in racing.  I'll need a lot more than that, but it's a great place to start.  I am more than ready to get going.         

Something We Can All Agree On

Fact:  nobody wants to talk about politics.  No matter who any of us supported, we all share at least a shadow of relief that the election is over.  I happened to be one who followed it closely and cared about it deeply.  I don't intend to say who I voted for, or start talking about the economy or immigration or any of those topics that have been repeated over and over for the last few months.  Now is the time to step back and remember that we're all brothers and sisters, and we all want the best for our country.

But as we are overjoyed to be through listening to people argue, as we have cast our votes and played our biggest role in deciding the fate of our nation, we cannot allow ourselves to forget about the issues.  Politicians promise to prioritize certain ones, but once they become elected, everything is a priority.  I cannot imagine how tough it must be to represent so many different types of people--regardless of party, they are supposed to speak for us all.  The only way for us to influence their priorities is to keep talking about the issues that matter to us.  

Many people have a particular issue they are especially concerned about, myself included.  I believe I am knowledgeable about my issue and have been able to distinguish fact and opinion as I have studied it.   But even without those facts, I know all I need to know about it because of my own experience. 

That's right--I'm a feminist.  

I'm not going to touch the women's issues debated in the election; my greatest concerns are nonpartisan anyway.  My greatest concerns are the sexual objectification of women by the media.  That our default setting is "he."  That we are taught to value our appearance above all.  Do you doubt me?  Take a stroll down the boys' toy aisle, and then the girls'.  Note the companies that push their products using scantily clad and/or physically perfect women.  Definitely watch the documentary Miss Representation and visit the website.  

It has been difficult to let go of my preoccupation with my looks, and I still have a long way to go.  Every day, I remind myself:  insecurity is not natural, or necessary.  The things I have worked to achieve are worth much more than what I was born with.  And it seems to me that the best way for young women to really believe those things about themselves is to be involved in sports.  There are many other ways to feel empowered, but sports are different.  To be an athlete is to love your body for what it can do and not for what it looks like.  I love seeing women throughout the sports world.  There are many strong, skilled female athletes for girls to look up to.  I just wish I saw more women in racing.  

The number of women in our sport is significantly greater than it was only a few years ago, and it will only continue to grow.  But I still want more.  I want to hear "Ladies and gentleman," at every start, at every track, in every country.  I know there are millions of female spectators, and I want the number of female drivers to reflect that.  I want young girls to stop dreaming about making history as a woman, and instead dream about making history as a driver.  

We've come a long way, and although women are still greatly outnumbered, we're used to seeing female drivers.  But racing continues to be a man's world.  The rule is still that men are drivers, crew chiefs, or engineers, and women are wives or grid girls.  I know there are women who do important work.  I don't know how numerous they are, but from my perspective, they seem like the exceptions that prove the rule.  Sometimes, the grid girls are all I see.  There are the female spectators, like me, and almost anyone associated with the event is either a man or paid to look pretty for the men.  I feel like I'm being ignored.  

That's not what I want any young driver to see, female or male.  I want them to see Sarah Fisher, the first female team owner to win an IndyCar race.  I want them to see Liz Halliday, a successful driver, commentator, and equestrian.  I myself have received driving instruction from several intelligent, talented women.  Girls need to see these incredible women accomplishing these things, and for many, that's the only way they would think they could do it themselves.  

 A few years ago, I read a letter in Racer Magazine that claimed that beautiful women were part of racing.  These women are beautiful, but I doubt I'm using that word in the same way that fellow was.  Now, things have changed.  We let women drive at night, and we let them drive race cars, too, no matter what they look like.  Racing is for everyone.  If there are men driving, there better be women.  If there are grid girls, then there ought to be grid boys.  This is the 21st century, and a girl who loves racing should never feel like she has to break down barriers to get there.      

It's time to crush sexism!  All you amazing female drivers, hurry up and make it to the top!  We've shown the world what we can do, but we need you to make sure they cold know it.           

When Life Gives You Le Mans

Yesterday, I finally turned eighteen, and since that's kind of a big deal, I actually had a party.  I haven't really had one since I was eleven, but that was a paragon of parties.  How about my cake?  My parents made it. It was a masterpiece.  I am so upset that the picture is blurry.

This party was French-inspired.  I have been obsessed with all things French since I started learning to speak the language in seventh grade, and in July of this year, I actually got to go there.  Don't worry, I took plenty of pictures.  Notre Dame!  The Eiffel Tower!  The palace at Versailles!  The thing is, though, I didn't get all the pictures I needed.  I know you're supposed to relax with the camera and try to enjoy every bit of it in the moment.  But I scrambled to get a shot of these things, and sadly fell short every time.

1. Richard the Lionheart.  He's buried in a cathedral in Rouen.  It was a moment I wanted to spend thinking about Dan, but like so many crumbling, centuries-old monuments, that part of the cathedral was closed for restoration.  Thinking of him then made me particularly sad; I wasn't expecting to be confronted with a reminder of him.  As we all know, he is gone, but far from forgotten.  In fact, we remember him often, at the most unexpected times.  
2. Le Mans.  Every time I turned around, there was a sign bearing the direction to Le Mans.  It seemed that for the entire trip, we danced right around it without actually going there.  A picture of just the sign would have been worth having.  One day, I will go to the 24 Heures du Mans.  It's on my bucket list.  I can hardly miss out on an event that combines two of my favorite things.  Speaking French above the roar of a legendary race?  C'est parfait!
3. c. 1960 Mustang.  When I saw it, I forgot I was in France.  We could have been on some endless highway in middle America.  (Then we passed a Peugeot dealership.)  I wasn't completely shocked to see it, but something about it in that moment was incredibly beautiful.  As much as I was loving my time in France, it struck a patriotic nerve.  
4. A kart track.  There I was, riding through the postcard-worthy Loire Valley, imagining Joan of Arc galloping through the hills on horseback.  Then a little kart track appeared.  I wasn't sure if it was even a kart track at first, but I saw red and yellow striped curbs, and signs, a separate one for each letter, spelling out, "KARTING."  (It's the same word in French and English.  I remember writing sentences  in French class:  "Qu'est-ce que tu aimes faire?"  "J'aime faire du karting.")  It was a perspective I hadn't seen before.  Obviously, there's plenty of racing in Europe.  But since I've never seen it with my own eyes, I still picture castles and villages when I think of that continent.  Well, there are definitely castles and villages, but nestled in between are race tracks.  So this is where it happens.  This is where it fits.
5. 8, Place de la Concorde, Paris.  This is the address of the Federation Internationale de l'Automobile.  I laid eyes on that building without knowing what it was.  I was busy being amazed that Marie Antoinette was beheaded right over there.  But on the other end the Place de la Concorde was the FIA.  I only knew that later.  It turns out that colorful histories and modern motorsports fit quite well together.  And why shouldn't they?  The first-ever motor race took place in France. 

The good news is that I will hopefully be studying abroad in France soon.  I'll find my way to Le Mans.  I'll do some French karting.  I will get the pictures I'm lacking.