In celebration of that sport, I spent part of my weekend (with 300,000 other lunatics) in Dallas at the...are you ready?...Texas Motor Speedway. I dig NASCAR. There, I've said it. I love racing.
I've been a closet fan for quite some time. I came out about the time that Dale Earnhardt, Sr. died. (Surely you all remember that?) Well, I didn't really come out. I would say I trickled out. Slowly.
It is not exactly what people expect of me.
The race on Sunday was a lot of fun. It is, if nothing else, an incredible people watching experience.
You really see all kinds. I'm not sure that this picture does this fellow justice. He really likes Tony Stewart (that is a driver, people). He has dyed his hair bright orange. His shorts have flames. Enough said.
Obviously, The Princess had a wonderful time.
Is it bad to subject my child to this madness? Probably.
There is really nothing like the roar of 43 engines. WOO HOO!!
I do feel the sport has been given an unfair reputation. It is not just a bunch of rednecks turning left. When I have the energy, I will explain the particulars. I know you are about to burst with anticipation.
There is certainly an element of, well, less than sophisticated behavior. Take, for instance, the marker which we used to find our car...
Yes. You are seeing correctly. This is a blow up doll in a camo bikini.
That is all I've got today.