I'm usually pretty good at preventing myself from spending inordinate amounts of time navel gazing. But last weekend sort of caught me off guard. I didn't expect to be isolated for that long. So I watched several DVDs... all about motor racing. The ones about the 50's and 60's were nostalgic and interesting, even though SO MANY drivers (and spectators) died during that bloody era. But I wasn't around to watch most of those guys, so that didn't hit me the same way. But Senna was close to my age. And the interviews with John Bisignano, in particular, sort of messed with my head. That strange, almost electric aura, that he described being around Senna's car on the grid, made me pause the DVD and stare into space for a bit. And the way that Bisignano commented on how conflicted he was about Senna's death, I could relate to that too. While his family and friends surely miss him still, in the eyes of fans (people like us, who didn't really know him), he will never get old. He will never die of cancer or slump over in his chair at the age of 80 or 90. He will always be young, vibrant, handsome and determined to get that next win. To many people, he has taken on a sort of mythical, spirit like existence now. In my mind, I only remember that he died in the lead. And since we all gotta go at some point, that ain't a bad way to go. So, that's how I resolved that blue feeling and started counting my blessings again.

Man, I hope that's the last big snow that we have this year.