ATHENS, NY—Being “faithful” to a spouse—purely as that faithfulness relates to monogamy and fidelity—is not nearly as difficult as New Age sociologists and trendoid magazine writers might have us believe. A loving relationship with one’s partner combined with even moderate adherence to Judeo-Christian principles will help immensely to preserve marital loyalty.

My personal loyalty to my loving wife of 22 years has never been called into question. However, I must admit that while no other physical woman has ever come between Dorothy and me, I have had many lustful thoughts over the years—many of which I have acted upon—about another lover. Her name is Speed.

While my passion for Speed has never been a secret, it nonetheless took a very forgiving person to understand my weakness and to stand by me despite its ramifications. Dorothy even tried, on a handful of occasions, to be a part of my other life.

There was that chilly misty spring morning in 1984 when she accompanied me to the inaugural running of the Meadowlands Grand Prix. Then, six years later, we capped off a “second honeymoon” weekend in New Hampshire with a Sunday afternoon visit to the Magic Mile for the Grand Prix of New England. In 1998 Dorothy joined me for Saturday qualifying at Mid-Ohio but opted to stay with our daughter-in-law and then-newborn grandson in nearby Mount Vernon while I attended the race on Sunday.

I hope Dorothy realized that having her by my side on those rare occasions made the racing that much more special and memorable to me. Although Champ Car racing was not her passion, she somehow managed to soak up plenty of knowledge over the years. It never ceased to amaze me that she understood and was even conversant about my frequent CΛRT tirades. While we had “diverse opinions” about so many other issues, she always took my side in matters that regarded our beloved speed sport.

The poor woman was with me when I got three traffic tickets in the same day. She was by my side as I lay bleeding to death of internal injuries after a big crash in 1988. My long-suffering wife waited patiently at home countless times while I was off to the races. Of course, she endured my annual binges of Indy-mania for many years; she was most grateful when I finally kicked that nasty habit in 1996. Chores, meals, shopping trips and all manner of plans were forever being tailored to fit the whims of TV programmers.

Dorothy quietly bore the hurt of knowing that, at times, her place was in the back seat. She rarely complained or lectured and never begrudged me my fun. She was proud of my meager writing skills and publicly equated them with her own true art talent—the application of paint to canvas.

Today I am sadder than you can possibly imagine having to inform you that, suddenly, I am left with Speed as the only living love of my life. More than anything, I wish that it could be the other way around.

Editor’s note: Ed encourages his readers and friends to make a donation in his wife Dorothy’s memory to the Kidney Foundation.

Copyright © 2003 by Ed Donath and Deep Throttle. All Rights Reserved.