Hello race fans! Well, once again, we're gonna take a break from the "Mongoo$e Journals" and share with you all an amazing experience.

I'm a pretty laidback, Southern California kinda guy. I've gone real fast and real quick. I've been blown-up and set on fire, and I've gotten airborne. So, nothing really gets my hackles up, well, except for one thing -- surprise birthday parties!

There is a long-standing request I make of my friends; actually it's more of a demand. If any of them knows of, or thinks that there might be, or has heard the most vague of rumors of a surprise party in the planning - Spill your guts! So I can get at least one time zone away from the ?@#$ disaster!

Come on, you know what I mean. You've all been through this ugly little scene. You always find out about it in advance. You get to somebody's home or restaurant and everybody yells "Surprise!" You have to look like a deer in the headlights. "Oh my, all this for little ol' me?" Then you have to act kinda embarrassed, get a little dewy-eyed, and mutter something like, "Aw, you shouldn't a done all this" or "I'm such a lucky guy to have friends like you." Some crap like that.

After a mediocre meal, out come the gag gifts (because nobody wants to spend the money on something really nice). This part really sucks, especially when you get past your 50s: Geritol, hemorrhoid cream, denture paste, Viagra, "Old Fart" baseball caps - you know what I mean, because you've either yukked it up while wrapping them, or had the misfortune of unwrapping them. It's all stuff that gets "canned" as soon as the festivities have ended. With the "gifts" comes the "hilarious" getting-older jokes.

Spare me!

It all started so innocently. My dear friends Mike Kuhl and his charming wife, Lynn Rose, have a great house, big backyard, pool - the whole deal. Through the fall of last year, they had been making even more improvements, including the construction of a palapa, one of those thatched roof structures you see by the pool or the ocean at fancy Mexican resorts.

Back in December, just real low-key, they invited me over for a little get-together to celebrate the impending completion of their backyard project - just a few friends, good food, a pleasant evening. The date was a week prior to my birthday, but no alarm bells sounded.

That Saturday evening came and off I went, fat, dumb and happy to Mike and Lynn's. When we got there, the hairs on the back of my neck began to stand up - too many cars! But by then it was too late. Mike quickly escorted me into the backyard. There, I was thrown into the grasp of an unruly crowd and greeted by the roar of "Surprise! Happy birthday!" Holy crap! It was wall-to-wall friends, over a hundred strong.

Mike and Lynn (with the aid of a handful of "accomplices" lead by Snake's wife Lynn Prudhomme and my old Coors racing rep John Ross) were throwing me the surprise birthday party to end all surprise birthday parties. And, I don't for the life of me know how they pulled it off. I didn't have a clue. Especially considering the number of friends involved. It was a shocker! Friends I hadn't seen in years, friends from across the country, were here to wish me well.

I overheard one making a comment: "This is the first time in too long since this gang has gotten together where the guest of honor wasn't in a casket." Sad, but true.

I've never been much of a partier, but it was really great hanging out with so many of my old friends, not just racers, but people from all walks of life. Guys I did business with, guys who tuned me up, guys I raced against and with, people I hadn't seen in many, many years. The memories. There were team members from Bivens, Fisher & McEwen, Yeakel Plymouth, the Hot Wheels years, the English Leather Vette, my entire Coors team (including John Ross and Sharon Lasater), the '57 Chevy Funny, and Mobil 1 T/F.

Not only was it great for me, but it was fun for everybody to connect; old acquaintances, old teammates, old competitors, gathered together again.

After everyone got a belly-full of great eats and drink, no finger food or cold cuts for the Goo$e! We had a real sit down dinner. The "roast" was on.

Those designated to "light me up" (Mike Kuhl, John Force, Don Prudhomme, Roland Leong, Dave McClelland, Steve Gibbs, Bill Doner, Don Rackemann, Pete Ward, and John Ross) all dragged some skeletons from the closet and rattled 'em good and hard.

Kuhl, with an assist from Carl Olson (of Kuhl & Olson T/F fame), told an "unlikely tale" of how they whipped my butt, but got stiffed out of the race win by some track manager, who awarded it to me, 'cause I was a bigger name. Come on Mikey, would I have been part of such a shady deal?

Bill Doner, sports promoter (from drags and unlimited hydroplanes to pro sports at Caesar's Palace) alluded to several situations involving lovely young ladies, and yes, there might have been a drag race going on at the same time. Bill, bless 'im, didn't mention any names for fear of feeding some sleazy divorce lawyer several new clients.

Don Rackemann, racer (remember El Tigre?), race promoter and business entrepreneur, shared an adventure involving him, me, Lou Baney, and a couple of other racers. We'd just wrapped up the SummerNats at E-Town and were anxious to make our plane at Newark. We were smokin' it to the airport, in a cherry '56 Chev some poor chump had lent us, when it started overheating. Baney kept yelling, "Keep your foot in it!" while thick black smoke began roiling out the back. Finally, dead in the water and still a couple of miles from the airport, we flagged down a guy driving a new Cad convertible. We crammed our luggage in the guy's trunk, leaving his stuff on the side of the road. There were so many of us, we couldn't get the doors closed! But we made our plane.

Dave and Steve shared racing anecdotes, from Irwindale to Indy.

Force, Snake and Roland hacked on me and each other; they had everybody laughing 'til our sides ached.

And gifts! Real good stuff, not one "Old Fart" ball cap in the lot! Expensive wine, gift certificates for high-dollar restaurants, old restored race photos, and from Force, a bitchin drawing, underneath it was the inscription "I learned from the best. You opened the door for all of us in drag racing."

Plus there was birthday cake.

Thanks everybody! DR