BEST OF JODY’S BOX: “THE LOOK!”

There is friction in the air. Bad vibes. Gender tension of the worst kind. Luscious Louella, the love of my life, has been giving me “the look.” If you’ve been doing the Bob Eubanks thing for longer than six months you know what I’m talking about. It’s half stare and half glare. Why am I getting “the look?” Beats me.

“Jody, did you notice that I dyed my hair red,” she asked one afternoon.

“Yes I did,” I lied. “And it looks very attractive. I was going to mention it earlier today, but I was on my way to the garage to work on my bike and forgot.”

“What about yesterday?” she asks.

“I didn’t have time to work on my bike yesterday, I was at Glen Helen all day.”

“I meant why didn’t you mention my hair yesterday?”

“I was going to. In fact, I thought how nice you looked when I passed you in the driveway on my way to Glen Helen.”

“Did you think the red looked good?”

“Yes I did,” I replied. “I thought it highlighted your coloring.”

Then I noticed “the look.”

“Jody,” she said.”I didn’t have red hair yesterday. I didn’t even have it earlier today. I just got back from the hairdresser.”

“And I must say that it highlights your coloring even better now.”

Okay, I’m oblivious to those kind of female things—everything except “the look.”

“Did you feed the dog?” asked Louella. “He likes to be fed at 5:00 p.m. sharp.”

“I meant to, but I noticed that I had a leaking fork seal and once I got started working on it the time slipped away. I’ll do it when I’m done out here.”

“Jody, it’s 11:15 at night.”

“I thought it was funny when he ran in, grabbed my air filter and ate it,” I said jokingly.

Then I noticed “the look.”

Racing takes up a lot of my time. Well, actually racing only takes up one day a week, but preparing for the race, recovering from the race and reliving the race takes up the other six days. What Steve McQueen said in “LeMans” rings very true with me—”Racing is life. Everything else is just waiting.”

Louella is very patient. She knows that my schedule is set in stone. Nothing can interfere with my racing. She is supportive and makes tremendous sacrifices. She goes to parties alone. She attends weddings alone. She spends weekends alone (or at a dusty race track). She never makes plans for weekends. She is a motocross widow. And I am no saint. Because she gives me the leeway to spend every waking minute on motorcycles—I spend them frivolously.

“Jody,” says a pretty voice over the intercom. “Dinner is on the table.”

“Be right there,” I reply into the intercom out in the garage.

“Jody,” says an irritated voice ten minutes later.”Your dinner is getting cold.”

“I’m on my way,” I said with a tone of remorse.

“Jody,” barks the intercom in what seemed like seconds later. ”I put your plate in the microwave.”

“I’m locking the garage door this second,” I say. “I’ll be in the house in a minute.”

“Jody, do you know that its now 11:15 at night. Dinner was ready at five.”

“Oh, I thought the dog ate at five.”

I swear I got “the look” over the intercom.

It’s been a little icy around the Jody domicile. Jimmy Mac said that I should take a weekend off from racing and take Louella somewhere. That seemed like a good idea so I approached Louella about it.

“That would be nice,” she said with a smile. “We could go up to Oak Glen and pick raspberries this weekend.”

“I can’t this weekend. I have to test with Yamaha at Pala.”

“Okay, my sister is having a big family party two weekends from now. We could load up the croquet set and spend the day with them.”

“Would that be on the weekend of the 24th?” I asked. “Because if it is I have to be in Indianapolis for a dealer show.”

“Okay,” she said. “You pick the weekend.”

“Great,” I said.”Let me check my calendar and get back to you. I’m pretty sure that I have a free weekend coming up in the month of March.”

That’s when I got “the look.”

I have vowed to be better about spending more time with Louella, but but I rarely find the time. I know that Louella is more important than any single race, but I also know that you’re only as good as your last race. Yet, I constantly promise lovely Louella that I will be making time for her. She doesn’t believe me.

How do I know? I heard her on the phone with her sister the other day. “Oh I’d love to come. Who else will be there? That’s great. Can I bring anything? Jody? No, he won’t come. I don’t have to ask I already know what he’s doing. He’s going to Glen Helen to finish 14th again.”

That’s when I shot her “the look.”