I did just that last night, though it wasn’t the official day on the calendar. Who makes up these pseudo-holidays anyway?
Still, my oldest tagged along with me to chat with Marco Andretti.
Marco is a member of the well-known Andretti family who has certainly made its mark in the racing world. He has qualified for the Indy 500, and is making appearances, sporting his Aveda hairgel and all, at various stores throughout the city. I was worried Griffin would grow bored, hanging around for two hours watching a race car driver sign autographs, though Marco has it down to a science at 400 signatures an hour.
Soon after we got there, the smile on my son’s face resembled a kid in a candy store, yet this time we were sandwiched between women’s lingerie and men’s athletic wear. He watched in awe as Marco’s beefy security guard stood close by with arms crossed like he meant business, (I posted his pic on twitter!), then took it all in as I turned on the mic and rattled off some questions for the famous Andretti. Hard-hitting stuff, like where he sleeps the night before the race (he’s in bed by 9!), and will he climb the fence like Ellio if he wins? (Nope, just drink the milk.)
Heading home, I asked Griff if he had a good time, and he told me it was the best night ever. Thinking maybe he learned a little bit about broadcasting, I asked if he’d like to be in radio one day.
‘Oh, no way, Mom,‘ he replied. I assumed he was saying the interviews would be nerve-wracking, but I couldn’t have been more wrong.
‘I wanna be an astronaut.’
Can’t help you there, son.