jesus loves F1

so if you can't tell from the previous posts that i was at the canadian grand prix, you're not too quick (excluding e$, of course, who makes the best gin and tonics and is exempt from any of my harsh judgments). maybe you just thought i love formula one - this is true. my weekend pilgrimage - and yes, i am a pilgrim; i suffered the saharan heat, i traversed through the maddening throngs, i vilified the immigrant vendors, i flagellated myself with fountain water, i converted the foreign currency -my pilgrimage brought me to the mecca of motorsport, and left me touched by god.

i'd be untruthful if i said the whole weekend was pleasurable. i was hot enough to cry, sticky enough to snap at my sweet honeybear, stupid enough to wipe my eyes with metro-dirty fingers and catch pinkeye. i was disemboweled with disappointment when the golden boys of renault, whose colors i flaunted on race day, started off with a mclaren-owning launch from the grid and lead half the race with a solid wall of blue in a renault 1-2, only to retire within laps of each other and fail to score points for the first time this season. i felt cursed to have to witness such a fall from grace.
but seeing ferrari get their asses in gear and unsettle kimi, if not oust him from the lead, was a salve to my open wound.

the agony of polluted, humid, skin-scorching weather is forgotten when i close my eyes and think back to the ribcage-tearing roars of those 3.0 liter v-10s, screaming a high-pitched protest through the spitfire downshifting as they approach the chicane, a little bit of tire squeal around the corner, roaring through my visual field, thundering past with a deep mechanical chatter like the reverberations of the belly of a giant beast.

if you told me that's the sound you hear when you leave this earth and head towards the white light, i'd believe you.