EAT MY RUBBER

This weekend is the Daytona 500 (check your local listings). I’m not a HUGE race fan, but I like to fall asleep watching it on a Sunday afternoon. I have friends that are really into it, although I don’t know who to cheer for.

Ricky Rudd or Kevin Harvick? Let the debate begin in the comments section below.

What I do know is that I like the number 8. Mostly because if you turn is sideways it looks like the symbol for infinity.

I’ll watch the race as a casual fan. Casual fans think the speed is cool, the cars are cooler, and the crashes are the coolest. NASCAR is to crashes what the WWE is to wrestling. In the end, you’re head will be spinning but your going to remember at least one flaming crash.

The first race Z watched of NASCAR was the Daytona 500 when Dale Earnhardt Sr died. She saw the crash. She heard the news. She found it unbelievable.

I mostly just like to race on my own. Not so easy with a Metro. But one day I’d like to let ‘er rip on a quarter mile oval. What’s the worst that could happen? Blow the engine? Again?

They say betting makes games more meaningful. I don’t bet, but here is what I will do. I’ll hold on to these chocolate NASCAR treats and eat them in the reverse finishing order. The one that comes closest to winning (without going over?) will get to sit on my desk going stale. The others will be eaten…

It’s a win-win for me! Mmmmmmmm... NASCAR....