Sunday, February 28, 2010

Nascar Dreams

Thanks to my friends, the Thiriots, I am hooked on Nascar. They gave me 2 free tickets 4 years ago. I went thinking, “How bad can it be? It’s a good date idea with Steve.” I left thinking, “When can I go to another race?!?!?”

I know, I know. You’re thinking, “What? You? A “nonsporty” person? A girl who brings a book to every sporting event you’ve ever been to? Nascar? YOU? Ha! You’re a city girl and you’re not even from the South! You don’t even WATCH sports!!” (I know what you’re thinking because my sisters ask me these things every year.)

To those critics, I say, “Pllllllllllllllllllll!” And I ask, “Have YOU ever been to a Nascar race? Don’t knock it ‘til you try it!” As a well-educated, religious woman, do not fear for me. I have not stooped to some low level. Instead I have embraced a sport that is all encompassing.

Nascar is all encompassing because anyone can and does go. It’s like one big family. The rich, poor, middle class and everyone in between go to Nascar races. All walks of life attend Nascar, from blue collar to white collar and beyond. Yes, there are some people with missing teeth, but only a few.

Nascar rocks because every time I go I see every nationality and race in the world represented. There are black and white, Indian, Asian, Native American, Hispanic, European, South American, Polynesian, etc. Knowing I wanted to write a blog about it, I purposefully looked for every race and language I could. I found them all.

The cheapest seats are closest to the track. Go figure. In every other sport, the closer you get, the pricier the seats. Not at Nascar. People want to sit up high so they can see the whole track. I think they’re missing out. Sitting down by the track is the place to be. It’s like you’re in the race. The feel of the cars as they whip by you is indescribable. The power of the engines runs from your toes to your scalp. Wrecks occur at least twice a race and they’re amazing. (As long as the guys aren’t hurt.) Wiping tire tread bits off of your face after a car hits the wall in front of you is an amazing feeling. Most of the wrecks on the Vegas track happen right in front of the main stands. Who wants to miss that?

People are nicer. You usually end up being best buds with the family or couple sitting near you. You take a family pic for them and they for you. People share food, drinks (which gets dicey when all you have to offer for a beverage is water), and Nascar knowledge. We cheer together, boo together, sing together, and basically have a great couple of hours together.

This year is even better because Danica Patrick is racing. She’s the first woman to make it to the big races. We all cheer for her success in a race where men have dominated since the beginning. The woman is an excellent driver, smart, sharp witted, and isn’t afraid to speak her mind. Have I mentioned she could grace the cover of a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue without a problem? Some girls get all the luck.

Well, I hope you understand my passion for Nascar a little more. (I never bring a book to this sporting event.) I love it. I think I missed out on my calling in life---race car driver. Maybe getting all of those speeding tickets in high school and college should’ve been a hint. I can still dream . . .

Pinewood Derby Blessings


You probably heard by now, Steve nearly severed his finger trimming Joshua's pinewood derby car. It was painful. It was ugly. (See pics!) It was scary to sit in the E.R. for 6 hours, surrounded by so many sick and weird people, but it was scarier to see Steve suffer. Josh witnessed the incident, but remarkably has no traumatic stress from it. Drew was with his mom, so was spared the gore.

Blood or guts do not freak me out much. What caused me the greatest, wincing pain was Steve having to go through this. My dad gave Steve a blessing where he was counseled to learn from this experience and really take it to heart. Not something Steve wanted to hear, I think.

Steve was a trooper, a real bear to live with at times, but a trooper. As I sat in church today, I couldn't help but think of (in my Pollyanna way) what were some good things about the sawing of his finger.

I'm glad Steve didn't actually cut the finger off.

I'm glad that Steve didn't hurt his hand, arm, chest, or any other body part.

I'm glad that the flying pinewood derby car (as it traveled through the air at a high rate of speed away from the saw blade) didn't hit Joshua. We could've had multiple injuries.

I'm glad that Joshua and I got to spend 5 hours together "alone" in the ER waiting room. We didn't know anyone else there, so we read aloud, talked, laughed, and people watched. He and I had dinner together alone (rarely happens) and spent a lot of time talking. It was good for him and me.

I'm glad that Steve got to spend a week off from work at night. This gave us time with him we don't normally have. The boys loved having him home at bedtime.

I’m glad that my dad shared his priesthood and gave Steve a blessing. It was beautiful.

I’m glad my mom had the idea for the blessing! We need to listen to our mothers more!!

I'm glad that people prayed for him, called him, and stopped by. It gave others a chance to serve someone.

I'm glad I got to have this experience with Steve. I know now how he'll probably be as an elderly person (especially if he's sick) and can prepare myself now.

I'm glad that we grew together as a couple from this experience.

I'm glad that Steve grew as a person from this experience. He's a different man that he was 2 weeks ago---in a good way.