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Trouble waiting to happen.
A recent Wall Street Journal article reported on the drunken rowdiness at Nascar events. “You get that many people together and naturally you’re going to have some who get over-beveraged and get into trouble,” said the chief deputy at a sheriff’s office near a racing facility. I love that one; “over-beveraged” used as a euphemism for a shirt-less, shit-faced slob who has pounded about two cases of Pabst in the past five hours, puked his guts out all over an infield port-a-potty, rallied by drinking another case of shitty beer, and then challenged an entire section of the grandstand to a fight because someone stole his half-bag of cheese doodles.
I may not be the smartest guy in the world, I may not have won any Nobel prizes in literature, I may have failed the written part of the Washington state driving exam and had to cheat off the 15-year old kid next to me when I took the retest, I may not be able to read without moving my lips…okay, you get the point. I am smart enough to know that when you mix hicks and liquor someone is going to get a few teeth knocked out—usually an innocent bystander.
Define
Even smart people do stupid things under the influence of alcohol, but when a hick gets liquored up you can expect acts of unbridled stupidity. The problem is so out of control that Nascar officials have begun constructing their own jails at racetracks. The Nascar holding pens have a concrete floor enclosed with a chain-link fence. There is also a beer concession inside the jails, but you can’t buy beer one hour before your arraignment. I’m just kidding about that last part, but I really want it to be true.
I have been asking Seattle guys what the acronym Nascar stands for, exactly. Everyone I asked started off confidently: “North American…,” or, “North American Stock Car…,” and “North American Stock Car…American.” As their voices trailed off, they usually try to change the subject. Yeah, guys, I already know you think Bush is a lousy president, but I want to know what Nascar means.
I seriously doubt that there is a male over the age of seven in North Carolina—who isn’t a choreographer—who doesn’t know what Nascar means. Of course, there probably isn’t a male over the age of seven in that state who doesn’t have a ring imprinted on his back pocket from his chew can. Whether or not North Carolina choreographers chew tobacco is the subject for another essay.
Everyone knows what Nascar represents: gas-guzzling cars driving way too fast (even for hicks) around a big oval lined with hicks. I began this survey after reading about the possible construction of a Nascar track in the Seattle area. Maybe race officials should reconsider the demographic they are working with here in America’s hippie, upper left-hand corner.
After interviewing about 30-40 pansies, my friend Curtis, finally came up with the answer, but he doesn’t count because he’s just a geek who could probably name the Deputy Secretary of Agriculture or the exact latitude and longitude of the Solomon Islands. Just like we would all get beat up in a bar in North Carolina for not knowing what Nascar means, Curtis would get beat up for naming all of the Vice Presidents without being asked.
I’m now seven paragraphs into this essay and I finally know what it is about: We are all a bunch of effete liberals. Sure, we probably could all change our own oil, but then we’d agonize for hours over how to get rid of it. We’d argue over whether or not synthetic oil is ultimately better for the environment. I guess that I’m just a big, fat, effete, sack of liberal manure. It makes me want to drink a beer, watch a car race, and take a swing at someone.
I just had to endure the Coca Cola 600 here and it was painful. Thats just too many rednecks in one spot.
Well done.
Mike
NASCAR
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Posted: 5/31/2006 2:56:33 AM
I'll go easy on a fellow Washington stater, so 4 stars. But damn, failing the written exam? That needs some work.
mat
It's a creepy sport
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Posted: 5/31/2006 7:12:52 AM
Where else but car racing do you see its stars go up in flames every now and then? NASCAR lost its greatest star ever, Dale Earnhart, in a really horrid crash that was as pointless as it was brutal.
It's kinda creepy when you think about it. I thinks that's part of the thrill for the beer-swilling rednecks. Redneck gladiators, if you will.
Bobby
Dale vs. Bruce
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Posted: 5/31/2006 8:58:29 AM
What's the difference between Batman and Dale Earnhart?
The wall opened up for Batman.
hi-oooo
theclown
NASCAR
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Posted: 5/31/2006 9:09:53 AM
Pathetic. It takes precisely no imagination, intellect or guts to write an article expressing fear and loathing, to borrow the phrase, of a culture you know nothing about. Why don't you actually go to a NASCAR event and then write your essay? It may not change your opinion, but it will help alleviate the hollow small-mindedness of your arguments. And by the way, I live in Seattle as well.
Patrick M
Agree with theclown
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Posted: 5/31/2006 9:56:00 AM
I'm not even a huge NASCAR fan, but there's absolutely nothing new here. And your fake self-deprecation at the end does not save it...because it's fake and smug.
jane
blech
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Posted: 5/31/2006 10:01:54 AM
What is that second picture? It looks like a naked, obese, melting person. Surely that can't be real? Someone's art project, I'm guessing? It's utterly disgusting, but I have to know what it's story is and what exactly it has to do with the article.
Oh, and I think Nascar sucks, too.
Tom A
Making fun of Rednecks Never Gets Old for me
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Posted: 5/31/2006 10:10:36 AM
Maybe this is my version of the poop humor (that I don't get at all).
I'm wondering, though, why no one you know is Seattle is familiar with "Google.com?" I realize internet cafes are pretty scarce up there, but...
P.S. That second pic leaves me speechless. I am tempted to ask for some captions on that one...
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