You're the prize that won't materialize,
Image clear as day in my eyes,
Working toward a dream realized,
That once achieved will bring reprise.

Waiting has never worked before,
thus it never alters whats in store,
Idleness merely makes life stale,
A stop on the path to utter fail.

Not quite the case if life were forgiving,
But then what's the purpose in living
For it's not whether we're right or wrong,
But our journey and lessons that sing our song,

The most vital trait for which to call,
Never ever quit, and habitually give all,
Yet as imperfect beings we sometimes will fall,
If not striving for success; coerced to a crawl,
But life wasn't intended to be lived at a stall.

It’s officially the eve of the greatest day of the year. We’ve collectively waited 363 days for this to be upon us. Although, over the course of recent years, the month of May for me has been marred with some pretty tough times. Yet; no matter the circumstances, on that fateful sunday just before Memorial Day, my trials and tribulations will cease to exist for at least eight hours. Of course I am talking about Indy 500 raceday. I have even found closure to things in my life inside the stands of a race track. Albeit, not just any race track. Back in 2006 we lost Grandpa just a few days before the race and I was really grieving. I will never forget making the trip to the track that sunday and watching the closest and most exciting race ever. Sam Hornish Jr. made a last lap(s) comeback for the ages. As the race was ending I could feel my grandfather’s arm around my shoulders. May of 2007 was supposed to be an awesome month, as we had planned for Paul Wasicka and his girlfriend Amber to come see the race for the first time. They came and loved every moment, even though it was rain delayed and they had to move their flight back to see the finish. I could see the awe in Paul's eyes while he watched each lap intensely. Although, that month was yet again hit with terrible news. We found out that my wife (at the time) Aimee’s mom was terribly ill with cancer. I was beginning to think at that point that May basically sucked, up until the race anyway. In May 2008 I was lucky enough to sign my divorce paperwork and lose my job in the same week. Devastated inside yet again, I turned to the solid traditions of the brickyard for solace. It is now May 23, 2009 and so far the month has been much better than before. Maybe it can stay this way because it’s a lot more enjoyable to be entering that place without some type of heartache. I’m just thankful to have it be such a big part of my life. 100 years and still standing! Let’s not forget it was once tattered and torn during WWII, but today it is the bar by which all things motorsports are judged. To those people who have never seen a race live, they may never understand where I’m coming from. But for those that know the feeling of the goosebumps when they call to start engines. You know, the ones who can relate to the smell of ethanol burning off those incredible powerplants. The same people who have heard the screams of those motors and watched those drivers barrel off into the corners at such unbelievable speeds. It is with tremendous anxiety and pride that I welcome another Indy 500. Here’s to all who share an attachment in some facet to that hallowed ground!