Call me what you
will, but I just don’t get the hype about NASCAR and all
that auto-racing nonsense: big, beefy, loud cars with too
many bumper stickers roaring around and around and around
(and around) in circles. With all due respect, only a man
could find this challenging.
What I’d like to see is Mr.
Loud-and-Speedy stop at the grocery store, post office,
day-care, school, and Sears (check that pesky battery)
before arriving at work on-time. Then jockeying for
position in lunchtime traffic to fill the tank, return
library books, drop off film, pick up a prescription,
birthday card for Grandma, and, oh yes, lunch. Then
finally, collecting children during rush hour, and
attempting to NOT crash into any barriers while fishing
under the seat for a lost toy, simultaneously rewinding
the Barney tape (singing to fill in), and refereeing the
fist fight erupting in the back seat over who, precisely,
touched whom. Don’t forget to pick up milk and bread!
Frankly, racing in an expensive car with
no requisite stops, and no children sounds like my idea of
a vacation, never mind a "sport". They don’t even have to
pump their own gas! But people somehow have enormous
respect for these driving gurus. They travel large
distances to watch the races. They plan weddings around
them, and endure incredible hardships, mostly in the form
of traffic, to congregate in support. <continued below>
I can’t even get anybody to open a door
for me. And I’d have to saw off a major limb before they’d
let me park close enough to Wal-Mart to be able to make it
in and out without exceeding my "maximum aerobic
capacity", considering how many kids I’m toting.
But it’s not just the racing fanatics. I
think that we, as a society, are looking in the wrong
direction. We don’t need to look toward these
sponsor-created personalities for inspiration. Inspiration
is everywhere. I don’t want to raise and love and nurture
my children so that when they’re adults, they look to the
media for their heroes. I don’t want them to think that
"Well, the Peace Corps would be nice, but this driving in
circles stuff – now THERE’S some glory!" And I don’t want
my daughter to wear a tube top. Ever.
So, call me what you will. It’s probably
a "mother thing". But I won’t sit and glorify those
drivers while ignoring the crew. I won’t applaud speed
over safety. And I won’t wear a hat made out of used
Budweiser cans.
