I was thinking about my first honeymoon at the age of 20. You could say it
wasn't a traditional honeymoon .We drove from Illinois to New Mexico with
three other friends (a married couple and a single guy) and spent a week
with Al Unser Sr. (the racecar driver). Yes, I spent my honeymoon with Al
Unser. It seemed like a perfectly logical thing to do (at least to my
husband and his friends). And because I was 20 and didn't know any better,
I figured it was fine. However, it did strike me as a tad strange when we
shared motel rooms on the way out. But it was always done for reasons of
economy, so how could I complain? There was no element of intimacy
involved in the trip, between anyone. Which I don't think surprised me any,
but I do remember feeling the smallest bit let down inside. One of many to
come.
It was March and I'd never driven across the country at any time
other than the regulation two weeks in the summer. So the experience,
weather-wise, was unique. I'd never seen the southwest before either, and
the endless stretches of nothing across New Mexico were startlingly
different to me. The huge half dead saguaros riddled with pecker holes,
agaves bigger than people-it was all so unreal and empty , swept clean.
When we finally pulled up to Al Unser's house no one was home but one of
our friends knew what to do - where the key was and we came inside.
I
should explain that my husband and the friend that came with us had worked
on Al Unser's race crew for a few summers . This friend's family had also
partially sponsored his car so they were all fairly tight.
I, on the other hand, had no interest in race cars, race car drivers, pit
crews, engines, lap speeds etc etc etc... But I was clearly an accesory on
this trip so I went off by myself and explored the University of New Mexico
and tracked down the Tamarind Lithography Studio and took a look around.
Which was a good thing because it was pleasant and it killed some time. Al
Unser, himself, was one of the biggest assholes I've ever had the
displeasure of meeting. He doesn't even make any pretense of liking women.
He simply doesn't address them in any way. To him, women are purely
utilitarian objects that he rarely has any need for.
It's been a long long
time since all of this happened and it's funny the things I remember. I
remember this huge glass wall of enormous trophies in your face as you
enter the front door. I remember he had a microwave oven (which in 1973
was still a novelty). I remember his house being extremely bland inside and
non-descript. Wood paneling, wall to wall carpeting, brown plaid sofas -
typical manly man poor taste. And I remember he never spoke a word to me or
the other woman in our group. And I remember asking my husband about this
and he casually said, that's just the way Al is around women. He never
talks to them.Some honeymoon, huh?
Five years later the marriage was over
and done with. There's a moral in here somewhere. How about: never spend
your honeymoon with Al Unser.
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(c)Mars Tokyo, 1997