I Said All That to Say This...

Well, it's time to put the NASCAR stuph to rest. If you've been keeping up with the previous few posts, you can see that it was quite a trip. I do want to take this opportunity to say thanks to the Copelands for letting us tag along. We really did have a lot of fun and will always have some very vivid memories of our first trip to "Dega".

I have had many people ask if we would go back. Well, sure!! Who would want to miss out on sunburn, drunks, the smell of fuel (and gas) and all this material for their blog :)

Seriously though...we had a great time with great friends and look forward to doing it again if given the opportunity. Maybe by then I will have a few less teeth, a good mullet going, and will have learned to properly pronounce "Junior".

Now if you'll excuse me, my skin is starting to peel. Don't want to miss out on the big pieces. =)

Ode to Drunk NASCAR Fan (with conclusion)

The pinnacle of our 'Dega experience was our.....opportunity to take part in the life of one "drunk NASCAR fan". I believe his name is Jeff, but in order to protect the sober he shall henceforth be referred to as DNF (drunk NASCAR fan).

When we arrived at our seats, there weren't very many people there. We got to look over the track, even watch some of the Nextel drivers practice for the Big 'Un (the Sunday race).....then, it happened. DNF made his proud entrance stumbling to his seat with the help of his slightly embarrassed wife. This guy was wasted. According to his kid, he had been drinking since 8:00 a.m. Luckily...he came and sat next to me. Every once in a while he would "stand up", but he couldn't "stand still". He was wobbling all over the place. I thought he was going to fall on me at one point, and mind you...he was no small feller.

His next job was to welcome everyone to the track. You gotta picture this in your head. DNF wobbling, but never spilling his beer (at least not yet), and yelling at the top of his lungs, "Welcome...NASCAR fans!" Apparently he didn't think anybody heard him as he repeated himself at least 6 more times before his wife grabbed him and pulled him back into his seat. You may be thinking....surely he settled down after that. Oh no! The fun was just beginnning. He then felt it was his job to tell everyone in our section when the cars were coming, and then motioning as if to show them which way to go. Now remember, he's sitting to my left, and the cars run left to right. This only happened the first 12 to 14 laps of practice and yes, he hit me almost everytime.

Eventually, he got tired of sitting in our row and decided to climb to the row behind us. Don't know if you've ever seen a drunk try to "climb" over a row of seats. Let's just say after several attempts, a close encounter with the ground, and lots of pushing and tugging....he made it. Now, he's sitting behind me. Oh, the joy....Now he's still entertaining himself by following the cars with his arm (again knocking me in the head) and then at one point he became so fascinated with Laura's ponytail that he just reached out and grabbed it. Can you feel the love?

It wasn't long before our dear friend, DNF, started "feeling the effects" of his morning activities. He was no longer "standing up" as much. In fact at one point, he looked as though he would simply slump over onto his head. Of course that would have been fine if it wasn't for that can of beer in his hand. Remember when I said he hadn't dropped his beer yet? Well that all ended....right into the back of my seat. I was thrilled. But wait it gets better. At one point he began to...shall we say...recycle his morning alcohol breakfast. Again...right behind me. Luckily, we were able to move down a bit (one seat) and didn't have any more adventures with our dear friend.

So...to our good buddy Jeff, ur...I mean DNF. As you hug your porcelain friend trying to remember what happened to Friday and Saturday and Sunday, may your headaches subside and your clothes come clean. Happy puking my friend....happy puking.

The Journey Continues...

First off...let me say I am deeply moved by the outpouring of sentiment and concern. I am happy to report that I am ok...still have all my teeth...and haven't changed my name to include Ray, Billy, Bob, or Bubba. With that said, I continue....

Cars, trucks, vans, school buses, the Intimidator Dale Earnhardt limited edition Monte Carlo, Texas Bikini Team, camping out of the back of a U-Haul truck, a blow-up doll hanging from a telephone pole, lots of beads, and mullets gallore! This and many other precious memories are what I have from the trek to the track.

When we finally arrived, we could see the "complex" from where we parked. Earlier I had asked Justin to describe what I was about to see, and he simply said, "It's alot like The Fair". Truer words have never been said....we rounded the corner into the land of NASCAR trailers. Everything you could ever want with your favorite driver plastered all over it. T-shirts, hats, huggers, stickers, key chains, model cars, actual racing jakets, carburators, spark plugs, tires and more....

The greatest pleasure was drawn from the people walking around. Ever wonder where "carnies" vacation? I KNOW!! Wow! Mullets, tank tops, Billy Bob teeth (only these were REAL)...and those were the women!!! Very interesting mix of genetic defects :)

Ah, the memories....beer flowing like rivers....the urinal trough....and lets not forget the woman who thought her bra would make a good top!

Tomorrow, the conclusion......ode to Drunk NASCAR Fan....

Dega Bound!! 8 24 3 20 88, etc., etc.

Where do I begin? Ah yes....the Redneck Riviera. It started out much like any other road trip with a group of friends. Now, Justin and Jennifer are much much more versed in the annals of NASCAR racing than Laura and I, so we were able to get a feel for their excitement going into this thing. The real fun began as we made the right turn onto the highway leading to "Dega"...

We pulled in behind this Jeep. I couldn't have asked for a greater example of NASCAR stereotypes if I tried. Picture this...a red Jeep Wrangler....top down....Dale Earnhardt Jr. flag flying proudly from the back....cooler of beer at arm's length....two shirtless college age guys complete with tatoos....smoking the finest Marlboros and drinking some unidentifiable liquid. Halfway down the road they decide they're not getting enough of a breeze so they remove the doors from the Jeep. Unfortunantly we lost these fine fellows as they pulled off onto the left shoulder, creating their own entrance to the track.....

I was amazed at how many different states were represented in the long line of cars...uh, trucks...umm...vehicles we waded thru. Ohio, Texas, Illinois, Maryland, Arkansas, Mississippi, Missouri, and the list went on and on.......

oops, break's over....to be continued....

NASCAR 101

To tell you the truth...I never saw it coming. Not in my wildest dreams did I ever think a day like tomorrow would come, but it has......I'm going to my first NASCAR race......

Thanks to the kind generosity of our good friends Justin and Jennifer Copeland, Laura and I are headed to Talladega tomorrow for what should be an eye opening experience into the world of NASCAR and its fans. Since this is our first time, if anyone reading this has any suggestions about what we should take (pounds of fatback? moonshine? pickled pigs' feet?), what we should wear (wife beater T-shirt? cut-off jeans? John Deer mesh cap?), or any other area I may have overlooked, we'd appreciate the knowledge.

Be sure to check back later as I will be giving a full report. Wow, Baron and Laura at Talladega....Let the memories begin....

BTW, I've already looked. Not enough hair on my back to shave a big "3".....oh well, maybe they won't notice. ;-)

Vin Deisel Goes Bowling?

Ok, so I didn't see the REAL Vin Deisel at the bowling alley Friday night, but I did see your prototypical "wanna be everything that this world pushes as important at the expense of wisdom and others around". It was really kinda funny. This dude had the shaved head, the tatoos, the earrings, the sleeveless shirt to reveal the muscles he had apparently taken roids to get (just a guess), name brand cigs, drinking beer out of a NASCAR glass, and a girlfriend that he was EXTREMELY fond of. Can't write how I know that (G-rating), but those that were with me know exactly what I'm talking about.

Now...those that know me, know that I don't have a problem with tatoos or earrings or any of that. Actually, this guy had the look, that at one time in my life, I would have liked to have pulled off. But for me, as I watched him, it reminded me how caught up I get in things that really don't matter. My worth as a person is not determined by how big my muscles are, or how many friends I have, or if I'm the "life of the party". My worth comes from the fact that THE God of the universe looked down at me and said, "You know what...I love this guy, despite all of his faults. And I want him to spend eternity with Me."

If you're like me, our world's view of success often over shadows what our Savior says is the most important. It's not about clothes, looks, people, money....stuph. It's about loving the Lord your God with everything you have, and then loving your neighbor as much as you love yourself.

So...I guess I owe "Vin" a debt of gratitude. Thanks for reminding me what's really important in life.

Happy Tax Day!?!

In the words of the multi-platnum blue grass band, Three On a String.....

"If ten percent is good enough for Jesus...
It ought to be enough for Uncle Sam..."

Nuff said...

The Sound of Music

Ok...question for all corporate head types and those in charge of the Muzak systems in your building. Why won't you turn the volume up in the bathrooms? I'm not really sure what the Muzak systems are for to begin with (although hearing Lawrence Welk perform hits from the Backstreet Boys can be entertaining), I'm thinking the greatest usage would be to drown out some of the...how shall we say...noises that often occur. We all know the anxious moments that follow the trumpeting we hear from the adjacent stall. Why not turn up the volume in there? Believe me, I'd rather be humming along to "Dancing Queen" than being serenaded by the Alka Seltzer commercial next door. Come on folks...these are not "the trumpets" we are waiting to hear.

Just my opinion.

Wow! So this is it, huh? Life on the web. I have arrived!!