He’s president of the Monticello Motor Club, a rich boy’s escape about an hour’s drive from New York. He’s under the impression he once stood a serious chance of making Monticello the US Grand Prix venue. It was a nice way of putting a bit of extra pressure on the State of Texas to accept our conditions for an Austin GP, so I indulged him.
But he’s still living the dream. “Bernie,” he says, “I’ve read you’re working on a second venue for the US. It’s always amazing how great minds turn out to think alike. I was thinking exactly the same!”
Well, what a coincidence. But I’m not sure- “Bernie.” he interrupts me, “I know what you’re going to say. Those Southerners can’t be trusted. It’s like one of them told me th’other day: ‘Face it, if it ain’t got fenders and doors and only turns left neither y’allers nor yankees bother to show up.’
“Listen up, Bernie. I’ve got a great concept for you. Continue reading