Concessions pay dividends way outside the track

An outgoing woman (my words) with a big mouth (her words) named Alene Benasky was standing like a sentry in front of a concession stand staffed by Palo Verde High School choir members. Benasky noticed a couple of Metro officers strolling nearby. They had spent the morning controlling a crowd that had yet to materialize.

Benasky thought they looked famished. And parched.

“Ready for a cheeseburger?” she called out like a carnival barker. “Thirsty yet?”

Benasky’s daughter, Tana, a senior at Palo Verde, sings in the choir directed by Lesa Ramirez. These are women who do consider themselves race fans.

They cheer for crashes.

Crashes bring out yellow flags. Yellow flags bring race fans pouring out of the grandstands to use the restrooms and replenish their fuel supplies.

If there are enough yellow flags, the Palo Verde choir can make enough money on NASCAR weekend to pay for a trip to Russia or Italy or somewhere exotic like that.

“I know nothing about racing,” Ramirez said, “except that wrecks equal money.”

Blown engines and their residual oil spills are even better. Or rain delays.

“That’s where you really make the money,” Ramirez said.

The choir is a beneficiary of the nonprofit volunteer program supported by LVMS concessionaire Levy Restaurants. In return for selling hot dogs, hamburgers and nachos with gooey cheese sauce, local nonprofit groups such as the Palo Verde choir and the Arbor View High School band get to keep an 8 percent commission on what they sell.

Last year, the Palo Verde choir’s take was roughly $27,500. With tips, it was a tad north of $30,000.

Ramirez said one race fan from North Carolina was so enamored of the service and the smiles that at the end of the day he tipped the choirboys and girls $100, giving credence to the theory that he might have been a distant cousin of Jimmie Johnson.

The choir uses the money for choir things: uniforms, equipment, travel. The members went to St. Petersburg, Russia, to sing high notes on behalf of the Lutheran Church of St. Petersburg, a once majestic cathedral that had been transformed into a combination warehouse/swimming pool under communist rule.

The Palo Verde choir has performed all over Europe, in France, Germany, Austria, Sweden, Finland and Italy, where it sang at the Mass of Italy at Basilica Cattedrale Patriarcale di San Marco — St. Mark’s Cathedral — in Venice, which has stood in current form since 1063.

Without the speedway’s concession money, the Palo Verde choir would have trouble making it to Our Lady of Las Vegas on Alta Drive, which has stood in current form since 1957.

“There would have to be a lot of freakin’ bake sales, don’t you think?” Benasky said.

Larry Ferguson, director of food and beverage for Levy, is a staunch believer in the nonprofit program that annually pays more than $1.2 million to Levy Restaurants beneficiaries. As a young man, he supported a sister with the money he made selling corn dogs and funnel cakes as a volunteer at the Oklahoma State Fair.

By hiring nonprofit groups, he gets parents who are doctors, lawyers and sometimes even CEOs flipping burgers and waiting on fans.

Because there’s something in it for their kids, they tend to hustle more than minimum-wage workers.

They serve with a smile.

“That’s what people remember,” Ferguson said. “That’s how you get a $100 tip.”

Wafting from the midway toward the Dale Earnhardt Terrace in Turn 4 was the combined smell of corn dogs, chicken fingers, sweet roasted corn on the cob, Johnsonville bratwurst, pulled pork, turkey legs, toasted ravioli, pizza, Thai-Chinese barbecue, fried Twinkies and loaded nachos.

When it comes to satisfying any appetite, the speedway has thought of everything, with the possible exception of who is going to drive the loaded nachos home.

Once again, Alene Benasky noticed officers Malloy and Reed strolling past the Palo Verde concession booth. They were still doing a nice job controlling the crowd. Benasky thought they still looked famished.

“Ready for that cheeseburger yet?”

No, Malloy and Reed said. Maybe they’d be ready by 2 o’clock.

So it fell on the shoulders of this reporter to make a small contribution to the Palo Verde choir’s next trip to Russia.

A “soft” pretzel that tasted like an old Goodyear Racing Eagle was purchased and washed down with a bottle of Powerade punch. Total cost: $9. The choirboys and girls served me with a smile, and cheered.

This being Las Vegas and all, and them smiling and all, I reached into my pocket for a tip, only to discover that unlike Jimmie Johnson’s distant cousin, I must have left all my $100 bills at home.

So I put a dollar in their jar.

The Palo Verde choirboys and girls smiled and cheered some more.

Las Vegas Review-Journal columnist Ron Kantowski can be reached at rkantowski@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0352. Follow him on Twitter: @ronkantowski.