Rethinking NASCAR

I find a lot of humor in NASCAR --500 miles of left turns?-- and I've often wondered why it has become so popular.

NASCAR's origins are in bootlegging -- in modifying and driving cars that could outrun local law enforcement authorities. Which means that NASCAR owes a huge debt to the Christian conservatives who declared alcohol illegal in the first place. (If you like irony, and I know you do, check out the Christian aspect of NASCAR.)

I grew up thinking of NASCAR as the sport of poor white southerners. Think Southern Culture on the Skids and Dirt Track Date and you've got a pretty good idea of what I mean.

And yet, NASCAR has become wildly popular nationwide. Michigan suburbanites can name several NASCAR drivers. The Michigan International Speedway in Brooklyn is regularly packed with fans. Life-sized images of drivers emblazon soft drink machines nationwide. What gives?

My pet theory is that Americans, driving fools that we are, project ourselves onto NASCAR drivers. That is to say, millions of Walter Mittys commute to and from work every day, getting out of the post first at tollbooths, clinging to the inside track on long, sloping curves and cursing the opposing drivers who cut them off before the next exit. If you can't handle the speed in the left lane, you need to get over to the right lane with the rest of the milk trucks! And cell phones? Puh-leeze. You don't see Jeff Gordon with no stinkin' cell phone, do you? Where's the purity, for crying out loud?

Of course, the most basic similarity with commuters and bootleggers is driving as fast as you can without getting caught. Stop blushing. You know I'm right. You can't drive any Metro Detroit freeway at or below the speed limit without being rear-ended, headlight-flashed and flipped-off, so you might as well enjoy it, right? And you can't deny the rush of adrenaline you get when you come over a rise only to see Los Federales parked on the median and you pump your brakes and quickly veer to the right to hide amongst the milk trucks, watching your rear-view to see if The Man is coming after you.

Add a couple of G-forces and we're just like the guys at MIS, right?

Or maybe that's just me.

I owe Danica Patrick for this rethinking of NASCAR. I support women breaking into male bastions. Especially when the women in question are really hot.



(I have it on good authority that this life-size cutout is on a 27.5-year backorder.)

Still, one cute woman winning races isn't enough for me. It's too easy to bring in one telegenic female racer and say, "We're not all white men." I mean, when Ms. Patrick raises the take at the gate, all the white men benefit, too. No, I need a stronger commitment from NASCAR.

I'll become a fan when I see black men racing. Openly lesbian women and gay men racing. Transgendered men and women racing. Obese parents with screaming-children-in-the-back -seat-passing-onion-rings-and-Cokes-around racing. Arab women in hajibs racing.

Only then will the NASCAR circuit look like my view of I-275.

(Psst, Danica! Call me!) :-)