I was talking to Sirius Sea awhile back and told her I would tell a tale someday, well today is someday Siri.

1986 Labor day week-end found a bunch of us going to Indianapolis to spend the week-end watching the NHRA U.S. Nationals. Back then, you could park on the grass out front of the racing grounds and camp for the week-end. fun damn times, let me tell ya.

My oldest brother was a State trooper for Indiana in the Indianapolis post and got the job of security for the race, he gave me all access passes and they could get you in places that were off limits for the general public.

So on Friday or Saturday, don’t remember which, but I was standing at the Christmas tree when dawn broke and got some excellent pictures. of course, I got some bad-ass pics all week-end. As at any long holiday racing event we proceeded to have those famous Budweiser Breakfasts that always get ya feeling right, yes Virginia, red beer is a thing.

So later in the morning we all ate some blotter acid and the party was getting real when we run out of beer. Instead of having the ladies go on a beer run five of us tripping fools decide that hey, we got this and pile into my cutlass and into town we go!

All’s good as we cruise down the boulevard, find a carry-out and load up on beer and whiskey. Now, if you have never tripped on LSD let me fill you in, you can’t get drunk no matter how much alcohol you consume. And in 1986, being in our mid twenties we knew no limits.

So as we are all flying high by now and we aren’t thinking about much else then laughing and smoking pot as we head back to the track. Jimmy, a friend is driving my cutlass and I had the windows blacked out. So this cop lights us up and Jimmy flips out, comes to a complete stop in the middle of the intersection! We are all laughing our asses off while Jimmy is scared shitless. As he rolls the power window down, smoke rolls out of the car like a Cheech & Chong movie.

So this cop is truly pissed off and yells at Jimmy “Do you know why I pulled you over?’ I tell him from the passenger seat that my brake lights are out” in which he tells Jimmy to shut the car off. A couple of us are still laughing when the cop walks back up to the car and asked who I was. When I acknowledged it was me this cop reams me a new ass and tells us to get the damn car back to the track and don’t move it until it’s time to go home.

As you might guess, everyone in the car is flipping out that he let us go. Back at the track, everyone is all abuzz about the cop stop and the ladies are all shaking their heads and telling us what asses we are.

About the time I was headed into the track my brother catches up to me. He asks if I was having fun and we chatted for a minute. He got serious with me and told me that when they radioed my name in, the last name popped and they called him to see if he knew me.

My brother saved all our asses that week-end. The races were excellent, perfect weather and yes, a fabulous acid trip. So thanx for the memories Neil, Jimmy, and whoever else was there that week-end but a special shout-out to my brother Jerry. “You had my back that time bro, RIP.

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