The drowsy hum of bumble-bees in the summer heat grows louder and lower in pitch, until you realize it's actually stock cars on about the hundred fiftieth lap around, smelling like hot dogs and Sunoco 260GTX at the same time.
One blue and white one stands out in the herd of cars all moving together. Or, at least, it would be blue and white if it weren't for the patchwork of logos in a cacophony of colours all over it.
The driver is not alone. In fact, the driver is undergoing heart transplant surgery.
Heart stopped and chest open.
By a team of surgeons, anesthesiologists, nurses and assistants of all sorts. Half of which are performing their duties via web-cam and robotic arms manipulated remotely.
That's about the closest analogy to my work right now. And it's not much of an exaggeration.