Alright, listen up, y’all. I’m gonna tell ya ’bout this fella, Tambay Patrick. Heard about him on the radio, that noisy box in the corner. Said he was a racer, one of them fellas who drives them fast cars in circles.
This Patrick fella, he ain’t around no more. Gone, like a fart in the wind. They said he was 73, which is a lot of years, ain’t it? Means he saw a heap of sunrises and sunsets. Probably ate a whole lotta potatoes too, if he was anything like my old man.
This racing thing, I don’t get it. Why drive around in circles all day? Seems like a waste of good gas to me. But these fellas, they loved it, I guess. Tambay Patrick, he was one of them. Drove for all sorts of teams, fancy names like McLaren, Ferrari, and that Renault one. Sounded like somethin’ you’d find in a rich fella’s garage, not somethin’ a regular person like me would ever see.
They said he raced, like, a hundred and twenty-somethin’ times. That’s a lot of goin’ in circles, lemme tell ya. I get dizzy just thinkin’ about it. Must’ve had a strong stomach, that fella. Mine ain’t so good after eatin’ them fried pickles at the county fair last year.
- He drove for McLaren.
- He drove for Ferrari too.
- And that Renault place, whatever that is.
Seventy-three years, that’s a long time. Makes you think, don’t it? One minute you’re here, the next you’re gone. Just like that snaps fingers. Makes you wanna eat that extra piece of pie, you know? ‘Cause tomorrow ain’t guaranteed.
I heard them talkin’ ’bout him on the radio, sayin’ he was French. Fancy. Don’t know much about them French folks, ‘cept they make good bread and have that tall tower in that city, Paris, I think it’s called. Never been there myself. Too busy milkin’ Bessie and tendin’ to the chickens.
They said his family was real sad. Well, that’s natural, ain’t it? Losing someone you love, it’s like losin’ a piece of yourself. Reminds me of when old Blue, my hound dog, passed. Cried for a week straight, I did. He was a good boy, always brought me the paper, even if he chewed on it a bit first.
This Tambay Patrick, he was a racer, a driver, a French fella. Seventy-three years young. Now he’s gone. Makes ya think about life, don’t it? About family, about livin’ each day like it’s your last. And maybe, just maybe, eatin’ that extra piece of pie.
I don’t know much about racin’, but I know about livin’. And I know about losin’. And from what I hear, this Tambay Patrick, he lived a full life, doin’ what he loved. Can’t ask for much more than that, can ya? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I gotta go feed them chickens. They gettin’ mighty restless.
So that’s the story of Tambay Patrick, as best as I can tell it. A fella who drove fast cars and lived a long life. May he rest in peace, wherever them racers go when they cross that finish line in the sky.
And remember, eat that pie. Life’s too short to worry about a few extra pounds. That’s what I always say, anyways.
Tags: Patrick Tambay, Formula 1, Racer, Death, French Driver, McLaren, Ferrari, Renault, Racing, Obituary
