bye colts, see you next year....

I like sports but don't care so much for the fashions. Team jerseys don't look good on anyone but the actual players. 

I do have a nice selection of foam fingers, they work with any outfit.

I've also learned that I get a lot of crap from the customers if I'm not wearing at least wearing the team colors when I waitress during a big game. 

Since the Colts were playing in a must-win game I dressed as Peyton Manning.

Quarter on my back, quarterback, get it? 

No one else did, either. 

I tried.

colts!

Colts vs. Jets
Colts win!

J.R.

I think I lead a charmed life. I try to balance that with lots of hard work and guilt. But this is a perfect example of falling into fun.

My friend NYC John sent me a text: I’m on the plane next to a guy with Colts tickets for sale. Would you like to go?
My reply: Yes!

Details be damned. The fact that my dear mother’s birthday party was at the same time. We’ll make it work.

John got a little dose of family pre-party craziness. Buy flowers, don’t buy flowers. Buy balloons, don’t buy balloons. We finally made it to the country club and I introduced him to brother J.R. and cousin Jim. Off they went to tail gate for the game. I sent my famous salsa, Colts blue corn chips and foam finger – the only piece of Colts gear I own.

John, J.R. and Jim

An hour into the party I got a call from J.R. The folks in the seats next to him scored suite passes so the seats were open. John and I upgraded from section 635 – about three stories up – to row twenty-something from the field.

I had a wonderful time at the party and watched the kickoff at the club.

I was one of a handful of people with out Colts or Jets gear. And possibly the only one wearing a dress. 

I raced downtown (and when I say raced, I drove at a sensible speed) to Lucas Oil Stadium. J.R. parks at the Hurst Bean Lot and gave me his pass from the week before. I was able to park just yards from the stadium and stroll on in (after the metal detector and purse search of course).

The seats were awesome. So good that I kept getting distracted. Whoa -there’s someone wearing a sparkly wig. Lookie - football. Hey- jumbotron!

The game was a blast!

The rock band Foreigner played at half-time. Here is the review I wrote:
I was impressed by the logistics of getting the stage with classic rockers Foreigner perched on top out to the middle of the football field to fire out two songs and back to the sidelines in the twelve minute half-time break with no one breaking a hip.


Foreigner played Feels Like the First Time and Hot Blooded to tens of thousands of air-guitar playing, face painted, Colts jersey-wearing guys. I know the running audio must be crazy to get the sound three stories up to the cheap seats but I think they did a decent job with the audio. It looked and sounded like drummer Brian Tichy (Billy Idol and Ozzy Osbourne) was playing live. It was hard to tell with the other guys. Between front man Kelly Hansons mic stand waving and dramatic gestures and bassists Jeff Pilson’s (Dokken) wavy locks I forgot to play attention to their vocals and instruments.


Foreigner was a good band to warm us up for the main show – Super Bowl XLIV half-time entertainment The Who.

What a fun day! Thanks NYC John and Brother John Roman!

And on a side note, I took one of the best naps ever when I got some from the game. I can’t remember sleeping that well in years.

goals, goals, goals.

I've never been a goal setter and I think that is most of my problem. Oh sure, I'm good a short term goals - earn enough money to buy a camera, finish my column by the deadline, don't be late for work all week, don't punch anyone in the nose during a waitressing shift, don't snort in a committee meeting....but mostly, I suck at goal setting. 

Last year when I slogged my fat ass through the 500 Festival 5K walk (I was too out of shape to walk the half-marathon 13.1 mile race I'd signed up for) I vowed that I'd be in better shape the next year. I also thought it was be fun to highlight the 40 + bands that play along the route. It wasn't until July, when I needed a boost to get on a horse in Nebraska (and saw a photo of myself on that horse) that I came up with a concrete weight loss goal - 25 pounds. I almost fainted when I figured out that I had 25 pounds to lose! Me? Skinny kid Nora? Yikkes! 

I joined Weight Watchers online in August and it has been wonderful. I haven't been to a meeting but I faithfully record everything I eat and weigh myself at home. I reached the goal in March and have not gained any weight in the last three months. I would like to lose five more, but I'm pretty proud of myself.

 

I walked the Mini-Marathon in 3 hours, 42 minutes and reviewed and photographed all of the bands along the way. I had a blast! You can read my article here. Note my sports byline - wheee!

Now I need a new goal. Any ideas?

nascar comes to second helpings

FedEx gave Second Helpings a Pruis - delivered by Denny Hamlin!

It was a fun day. We combined it with a volunteer appreciation luncheon.

I was in heaven. I had a plan, a clipboard and Ann Herr at my side.

The two of us can do anything, really.

Actually, I'd been talking big and we actually pulled it off.

I had the grand idea that we could turn the garage into a picnic area for 120 with only an hour and a half turn around time.

I love events like this - print and television photographers and reporters covered it - ABC, CBS, NBC, ESPN and the Speed Network were there.

Denny volunteered in the kitchen shucking corn. The corn was donated by my dear cousin Leo.

Denny washing his hands- we're food safety geeks around here.

Denny Hamlin and Nora

The Pruis being delivered . Actually it was a faux Pruis. Ours is back ordered. I'm making no commentary on the fact that they drove the fuel efficient car from Chicago and back in a semi truck.

The car was decaled with FedEx, Denny Hamlin's number and the Second Helpings logo.

Here is Denny telling me that he loved me. Or, talking about Second Helpings. I might not have heard him right.

Special thanks to Ann and Nancy. Nancy recruited great volunteers for me, I could not have pulled it off with out her help.

Denny finished 3rd in the Brickyard - and if not for the crazy tire problems, I think he would have won.

the greatest spectacle in racing

I'm watching the awards dinner for the Indy 500 as I write this post. My friend's band is playing at the ceremony and opened with one of my favorite songs. I need to offer to haul guitars or something in for Tim one year so I can watch from the hallway. I used to say that I enjoy the watching the awards dinner more than the race, but not after yesterday. 

Growing up just 25 miles from the track (when you say "the track" around here, everyone knows what you're talking about) the 500 was always part of May. When we were young we'd eat lunch in the backyard with the radio on and I loved filling out the grid printed in the Indianapolis Star. 

I almost went to a race (again, everyone knows what you mean by "the race") when I was in college. My boyfriend Greg was one of those crazy guys that camped out at the Speedway the night before the race. He drove a big old farm truck down and they build some kind of structure to party on. I was never tempted to join them, not that I was ever invited. One year GB brought me a souvenir pair of panties. My only question was "are the new?" The 1986 race was rained out. GB and I drove down from Lafayette the next day and it was also rained out. I didn't run until the next weekend and I had to work. 

I've always enjoyed the month of May festivities. I've walked the Mini Marathon for years and used to watch my brother run before that. And there are always great parties that revolve around the race. 

When I lived out East I was always asked about the race and had to admit that I'd never been. It freaked me out to watch it on television (its always blacked out here) the first year I lived there. The next year I took my vacation time over Memorial Day in 1991 and finally attended a race. I had fun, was glad to say that I'd been, but had no desire to go back. 

I went to the race again in 2004. It was fun to go with my friend Novella knows how to go to the race. She's got the perfect parking place and has charmed the "yellow shirts" at the gate to run to the Speedway Motel to use the restrooms. As great as hanging out with her was, I had no desire to return. 

This year I've been really interested in the race and have kept track of what is going on at the track in spite of all of the rain or maybe because of it. 

On Thursday night I mentioned to my brother that if he had an extra ticket, I'd love to go. J.R. called in the middle of my Saturday night waitressing shift. I was going to the race- wooo hooo!

I had a blast. There was a bit of a snafu getting to the track (we were following someone) and wound up parking in the Coke lot. The lot is infamous for partying and camping out. We ran in to Shawn, who works for J.R. and were able to park next to his Boilermaker Special. Shawn's tee shirt refers to the oft heard chant: show us your [breasts]. 

We had a good hike to the track, hauling our coolers (little sandwiches and water in mine) and junk. We were a motley crew. J.R. had a hurt leg, Jeff had a major hangover and I had sore feet from walking three miles and waitressing the day before. Cousin Jim kept us all going. 

I was really nervous when I figured out where our seats were. I think I've mentioned my irrational fear of heights. We were in the stands above the Northwest Vista. Someone told me that it is about four stories high. Ekk. The stand is just two rows up a set of steep metal stairs. It was not as bad as I thought since we were surrounded by people and fencing. Here is the view looking down from the front. 

I was excited to see the flyover of two F-16 Vipers and two F/A-18 Hornets from the Navel Strike and Air Warfare Center, based in Fallon, Nevada.  

I took what would have been the perfect photograph, except for some goofball waving his shirt.

 

Here is the photograph that was in the paper today. 

We were in the 4th turn. These are the view looking to the left (that is Danica's car in the front of the photo). 

This one is from one of the many yellow flags. The green Corvette pace car is leading the pack. 

Here is the view looking to the right, you can see the pagoda and finish line yard of bricks. 

There were eight cautions - 69 laps worth (the track is 2.5 miles, 200 laps for 500 miles). Three of those cautions resulted in incidents including a scary accident in the pit area. Before the race started I was talking to the couple sitting next to us. They were from Nashville, TN and loaned me their extra radio. Listening to the race made all of the difference in the experience. I could hear all of the behind the scenes stuff. There were many skirmishes in the making: Patrick and Briscoe, Kanaan and Andretti and other fun stuff. 

The weather was perfect and there was a strong breeze where we were sitting. Wearing a skirt was not a great idea. I had to keep my purse around my shoulder to keep the skirt from blowing up on one side and had to remember to put my hand down when ever I jumped up. 

I had a wonderful time. Thanks J.R. 

----

We got back to J.R.s and I thought it was a good idea to spend fifteen minutes on the trampoline playing 'popcorn' with my niece and nephew. Good for the soul, bad for the feet.

---- 

After the race I drove out to the Farm. Dad hosts a crew from Iowa each year and I love to go out for dinner. They bring an obscene amount of meat and lots of laughs. The Iowa guys are related to Micha, who also works with J.R. 

This is what was left after the fifteen of us ate!

I got to spend some quality time with Cooper, Micha and Tiffany's youngest son, eight months. Oldest son Henry, turned two on May 19th. Keep them in your prayers, Tiffany is battling cancer. 

Dad and neighbor Craig Leek. Craig has every right to look so wiped out. He was Buddy Lazier's first turn spotter. As we watched the race (it was broadcast that evening) we quizzed the poor guy to death about racing. 

I was glad to have today off to nap and read. It was drizzing just enough to avoid mowing the grass one more day. 

are you ready for some football?

Indianapolis is crazy with Colts love.
It was fun to be downtown today. Monument Circle was turned in to a giant stage.
I'm off to pop some corn.

balance

Since my last post can be filed under the "ewwewh" column, I thought I tell you about the person that I was honored to talk to yesterday.

Rosevelt Colvin played football (and basketball) for Broad Ripple High School and graduated with honors in 1995. He played football and got a degree from Purdue. I got to see him play for Purdue several times, including the 1998 Alamo Bowl. He was drafted by the Bears and now plays for the Patriots.
He does lots of charity work for the NFL but wanted to do something for the Indianapolis public schools.

His first annual "5 on 5 Hoops Tournament" is June 23 and 24. The proceeds will benefit Broad Ripple High School's athletic program and provide scholarships for two 2008 graduates. His mom just retired after 40 years in the school system.

I was trying to think of interesting, atypical questions. Mostly I just stammered and blushed. I asked him about his high school basketball career, what position did he play? "Power foreward --I was the tallest, thickest guy on the team." That made me laugh.

Mr. Colvin is proud of his mama and was a pleasure to talk to.

tuesday night all stars

Back in the day, I worked three nights a week at the Red Key, every Monday, Tuesday and Saturday.

Tuesdays were my favorite for several reasons, the biggest being the Tuesday Night All Stars.
The TNAS are a group of guys who play basketball September-May.
They were always fun to wait on and very generous to me.
They are genuinely nice men.
More often than not their conversation centers around their wives, children and work.
They talk about weddings and impending births.
Of course, they'd be mad if they knew that I was spilling their manly secrets.

This year they made me a "woman's auxiliary member" and invited me to the year end banquet (FOUR kinds of pizza, paper plates and napkins!).
I brought a cake that looked like a basketball and had the TNAS logo.
They gave me an official tee shirt.
I admit to having a crush on them as a group, a very appropriate-I-know-most-of-them-are-married-and-I-don't-want-to-date-them-but-like-hanging-out-with-them-kind-of-way.
Maybe that is why I was blushing so furously when I ran in to two of them and their wives at church on Sunday.

mini marathon...

...almost.
I walked the 5K race instead.




The Indianapolis 500 mini marathon is one of the largest half-marathons in the US.
I walked my first one in 1987, ten years after it began. I think I've only missed about five in the last 20 years. I would plan trips home from Philly around the race.
In 1986 there were only about 5000 participants. The race was held on a Friday, starting downtown and ending at the 500 Race track. I loved those early-for-me years. Downtown workers cheering from office buildings and school kids lining the streets for high-fives in neighborhoods. Ending at the track was a blast -- friends waiting at the end with coolers of beer.
The half marathon got so big (35,000 participants this year)they moved it to Saturday and changed the race course so you end close to where you start. Now you take a full 2.5 mile lap around the track in the middle of the course. The novelty of being on the track wears off pretty quickly. That is always the longest part of the walk.

Three years ago was the first time I walked the 5K (3 point something miles)instead of the 13.1 mile half marathon.
2005 was the year of the twice broken foot and I didn't want to push it.
I walked with some Red Key folks and loved it.
We were a motley crew.
Mike W. walked the course with 2 unlit cigarettes in one hand (in case of a nicotine emergency) and a screwdriver (and not the Philips or straight head kind) in the other.
My hero, Mike C. walked in work boots, jeans and a turtle neck -- and kicked all of our asses.
Last year my brother ran the 5K and I walked.
It was nice to ride downtown with him. I rarely get to hang with just JR.

This year I had every intention of doing the mini.
Except that I did not train at all (not that I ever have).
And I'm 10 pounds heavier than I was last year.
Anyway, I planned on trying it. What's the worst that can happen?

Oversleeping!

I woke up in a total panic at 6:55. The race starts at 7:00.
I ran around like nut for a few minutes looking for matching socks (matching as in, both the same color), my race number, the timing chip and my keys -- all the while chanting "crap, crap, crap, crap"
Once I calmed down and realized the 5K started at 8:30 I was okay.

And from the way my knees are feeling, the 5K was a better choice.
I averaged 15 minute miles, which I'm happy with.

Off for two aspirin and a quick nap before work.

Oh, and I've already signed up for next year.

boxing night

It occurred to me as I was waiting in the line of vehicles to enter the Indiana State Fair grounds that I was probably the only person listening to NPR on the way to Fight Night.

I am an amateur boxing fan, which surprises a lot of people. I have season tickets to the Golden Gloves matches. The Golden Gloves are great; the playing field seems leveled between race and class lines. Some clubs obviously have more resources, and others share gloves and water bottles.

Tonight I went to the professional fights. I don’t enjoy them nearly as much. Most of the GG matches are only 3 rounds, so the kids are putting their all in to the match from the beginning. The Fight Night matches range from 4-10 rounds.

I went with a group of guys that play softball with Stuart Lanford.
Stuart is a six-time Golden Gloves champion. He’s an Army veteran (Desert Storm and Iraqi Freedom). Stuart won his first professional title tonight, NABC Cruiserweight Championship.
The whole coliseum was stomping and cheering for him.
I was glad to be there to see it.

super! bowl

I went to watch the game at the local Knights of Columbus club, like the good Catholic girl that I am.
My friend Anne-Marie threw an over-the-top party there. Food, cowbells, three giant (7’ x 10’) televisions, confetti, pompoms and music.
I might have seen a beer or two around floating around.

My little brother, JR was at the game.
JR and I are very close, in that children-born-in-the-1960’s-of-a-Catholic-farm -family-that-does-not-express-our-emotions-kind-of-way.
We don’t cuss, hug each other or say “I love you,” and it works for all of us.

I am proud of how JR relates to his children. Lots of hugs, kisses and verbal affirmation.
JR and I still operate on the “head nod” way of showing affection. We never talk about it, but I know that I would throw myself under a train for him and he’s gone out of his way to protect me.

JR and I have some major philosophical differences. He’s a die-hard Republican and I’m a tree-hugging liberal. He lives in a newer neighborhood that has rules about mailboxes and grass mowing. I live in an urban neighborhood where I’m damn happy if my neighbors mow their lawn. He’s a Mariah Carey fan and I like punk-rock and Prince.
That said, we respect and support each other.

So, our text message exchange during the Super Bowl seemed like a deep conversation.

Nora: Are you getting wet?

JR: f*** yes

JR: Prince fn rocks

Nora: No shit! The best half-time show ever. I’m glad you are there.

You can see the first part of the half-time show on You Tube by clicking on the title of this post. I think those women dancing in high heels in the rain should get the MVP award.


I think that is the most we’ve sworn around each other, ever.
Don’t tell Dad.

I stopped a few places on my way home.
I drove through Broad Ripple, the artsy music-y part of town. Lots of people in the streets.
I went to a sports bar a few blocks from my house. It was crazy there—people dancing on tables and such. I thought about heading downtown, but I was tired.

Apparently my cat had ‘partied down’ during the game.
He threw-up on the living room floor when I got home.

super bowl bound

Watching the game last night was nerve-wracking and fun.

And I might have had a bit too much fun last night.
Not going-to-Confession fun, but out-of-character-for-Nora fun.

the sweet taste of victory…or so I heard

I live in Indianapolis, home of the Indianapolis Colts.
As you may or may not know, the Colts are in the AFC Championship game for the first time in the history of the Colts being in Indianapolis. As you can imagine (and it really is hard to believe how crazy it all really is) the town in going nuts.
Every news item this week is about the Colts, I even got my name mentioned on the Indianapolis Star sports coverage about the game.

Baltimore pays off on mayoral wager

Mayor Bart Peterson will be swimming in crab when he collects on that bet he had with former Baltimore Mayor, now Maryland Gov. Martin O’Malley tomorrow.
The good-natured wager over last week’s football game between the Indianapolis Colts and the Baltimore Ravens has turned into a crab feast that will be prepared and served to about 30 special guests at Second Helpings.
O’Malley became governor on Wednesday but arranged the crab transfer before he changed jobs, according to Joanna Phillips of Phillips Seafood Restaurant.
Philips will fly to Indianapolis later today with her brother, Brice and they will bring enough crab for their chef Dennis Gavagan to prepare a three-course meal of crab cocktail, crab soup and crabcake sandwiches to Peterson’s staff and some members of the Blue Crew, according to Nora Spitznogle of Second Helpings, the local food rescue/job training program.
Brice said her entourage will have dinner tonight at St. Elmo Steak House, the restaurant that was going to supply Baltimore with shrimp cocktail and steak had the Colts lost last week.
- Susan Guyett

It was a really fun day at Second Helpings. The Blue Crew, a rabid (and I say that in the nicest possible way) group of Colts fans came and decorated the class room. The Chef and Phillips family from Baltimore were terrific and good natured.
Our mayor is a big fan of Second Helpings and did a great job of talking about Second Helpings to the press. I’ve added a link to one of the videos, clcik on the title to activate. I'm the one in the black dress against the wall. It got great coverage, all four television stations covered it, a radio station and the Indianapolis Star sent a photographer.
I came to the conclusion that crab cakes must be sexier than deer meat. The press conference on Wednesday to announce the donation of deer meat brought no reporters. Of course the story of hunters killing deer, donating it to us, us hauling it to a prison to be butchered and packaged and our volunteers turning it into deer meatloaf is not for your average noon news watcher.

The only downer to the whole thing? I’m allergic to shellfish.

Go Colts!