A2Z Meme: Nuts for NASCAR

When I attend a function that starts with an icebreaker, I have a go-to when it comes to something most people wouldn’t think about me.

I’m a NASCAR fan.

I’m probably the most surprised of all. Growing up my parents dated watching Geoff Bodine race the local racetracks. My dad would say that they had so much fun watching him always start last so the crowd could watch him zoom to the front. When he raced out of Upstate NY and into NASCAR, my parents followed his career.

I wanted no part of it. After all, it’s a big circle. Doesn’t it make sense to miss all but the last lap when to me, it really counts?

Then I got married. My husband entered the fray as a computer programmer who doesn’t hunt, and he admitted after a few years he needed common ground with my dad, fast. He started watching races with my dad because he wanted something to talk with him.

Imagine everyone’s surprise when we bought our country home—seven miles from the famed Watkins Glen road course. We weren’t just close, the haulers used our road. Year after year the Monday of race week I could hear the trucks start coming in about 5AM. After the race, the haulers didn’t just drive past our house, they beeped for everyone with signs.

I actually became one of those people creating signs. And inviting people to join us. Year after year.

One year a hauler driving 55 mph with his passenger window down threw his driver’s merchandise, a hat, out the window. It landed at our toddler’s feet. It was the craziest thing.

Thursday of race week there was always an event in nearby Corning. I wasn’t such a fan of those, the small streets closed down and people flooded the place. Just not my thing overall. But I loved hearing stories from my sister-in-law about where the racers were spotted. Who was nice. Who needed some lessons on manners.

Then one year my sister offered to take me to Charlotte. We went to the Memorial Day night race eleven years ago. Our seats were mixed up, the driving to the hotel was interesting, everyone wore red to support Jr., we got the full effect.

Three years later, our dad passed away and we left the area. Of all the things I could miss, race Sunday on our old property is one of the biggest things. Our daughter doesn’t even remember those times, her first birthday was on our last race event. The closest I get to a race these days is tuning in on my Sprint phone while watching on TV.

Whether it was in my genes or otherwise meant to be, my happy place is when I hear a good “Gentlemen, start your engines!” and the roar of all the cars.

Yep, nuts for NASCAR.

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