The Ernie Irvan Hard Rock Cafe or
One of Brio's typically unusual Quest's - this time for the Speedster's Autograph
This all started out innocently enough with a statement in Hotline (Vol5#1 BRIO): "Hi Ernie, BRIO wants your autograph, too. In fact we'll top off the KAW with Texaco all the way to Georgia in your honor, honest." And we did, more or less. It's not like Texaco is everywhere, so the bike had a little Shell and Mobil bloodlines mixed in for the trip. We meant well. Besides, number 28 at a horse show! Definitely, we must go for it.
And then it was Thursday the appointed big day, Ernie was geared to start his session with Magic Marker in hand, a cast of thousands paid two bucks to get in just to see him. And they lined up at the El Cardenal stalls (Irvan's horse ranch) and snaked their way all the way out to the parking lot. Daunting.
But wait a minute here, BRIO is The Press. After all, abuse has it's privileges. So we hung tough, taking pictures waiting for our moment to sneak in line (Press, remember), and take our shot. As luck would have it, it was dignitary photo time, heh, heh. BRIO's moment was here. Doing our press-ly duty we snapped dignitaries, and in a moment of officially organized confusion we caught Ernie's eye. "Ernie, how about a quickie signing?" as we slipped our latest cover of BRIO under Ernie's pen. He never looked up (for long), just signed away. But we had it, Ernie's autograph was on the front cover of BRIO. Close enough. Mission accomplished, end of story.
Here's the Good Part
You learn quickly when traveling by motorcycle not to overpack, in fact you can't, there's no room. So when Sunday morning dawned, the show being over, we carefully stuffed our Ernie Irvan autographed BRIO in the rear luggage compartment along with the dirty socks wrapped in baggies. (Underwear is a different matter, every seasoned biker knows when the week is up just turn 'em inside out and you got yourself a clean pair!) and headed for the nearest Flyin J truck stop. After all, we'd had enough Cracker Barrel food till, say, next year.
One of the things you notice traveling the concrete slab on two wheels is that eventually you start picking up on who can drive with 'purpose' shall we say, and who can't. Usually you end up with a couple traveling buddies. As in, 'you pass everybody for a while and I'll follow and then I'll pass everybody for awhile and you follow.' This is unofficially called sharing the "let's make some really decent time" load.
Just north of Charlotte I fell in with a couple of cars, one green, one black, who had the right idea and we played cat and mouse up I77 all the way to Virginia, whereupon the four cups of coffee I had at the Flyin J in South Carolina made their presence felt. Handy, those rest areas. So while hangin out at the porcelain spa, I hear this voice, "Nice bike, I'm the guy in the black car." It was my radar-equipped-speed-efficiency expert no less, from the run up 177. So we shot the bull, he worked for the Government I gathered, his brother was a biker, I met his wife, the whole nine yards. I told them what I did, gave them a copy of BRIO and we were off again. In fact they whipped up along side me, pointed to BRIO and gave me the OK sign. She rolled down the window and snapped my photo. "Ah eccentrics, I'll go along with this," and waved at 80 m.p.h. So being efficient and all, she pops open the flash and snaps me again. Safety in numbers. I'm amused, they're amused.
Not Strange Enough
We soon merged into the hellacious evening traffic of 181. There is no mercy on this road, it's two lane bumper to bumper. It was then it dawned on me. I didn't even have to stop and make sure, I just knew. My Ernie Irvan autographed copy of BRIO was on it's way to Virginia, no wonder they waved, hell, talk about good fortune!
By this time my autograph was way ahead of me, I did my best dodge and weave, but face it, one taillight looks like another after awhile and I couldn't find 'em. So there it was, Brio's copy of BRIO with Ernie Irvan's autograph on the front cover on it's way to an official U.S. Government Function no doubt, probably in an Infiniti. Geez.
Update
It's three weeks hence the Ernie Irvan Big Geez. I open my mail and there I am(!) dimly waving good-bye in living color to the Speedster at 80 m.p.h. But there's hope. The letter states I can have my copy of BRIO back if I want it because there's 'some autograph on the cover.' well du -uh. Ya I want it back. But I'm grateful.
So now I'm waiting for the mail. I've even pulled all the sticky notes off the walls of BRIO's Official Corporate Office so Ernie can hang next to - me waiving adios to Ernie the Autograph - and alongside my official rejection notice from the Texaco credit card department. And there it will reside in the general atmosphere of cigars, leather, flatulent Basset Hounds and motor oil. God bless America - and NASCAR. DK ©1995.