Ongoing Observations from the Lower Class
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Can't believe it isn't an official holiday yet!
So, today is the NASCAR New Year once again; that of course being the Super Bowl of Stock Car Racing, the Daytona 500.
This year is a special year indeed, in that it is the 10-year anniversary of the death of what was arguably the greatest driver of all-time, the Intimidator, the pilot of the #3 car, the late, great, Dale Earnhardt.
Moments away from solidifying his place in the NASCAR history books, he was seeking his second win at Daytona; in first place, leading the pack on the final lap of the race; when disaster struck, changing the racing world - no, the ENTIRE world - in an instant. A crash that would be remembered not as the most spectacular, or firery, or destructive crash in automotive history, but the one the would affect the world as no other crash ever had before, or would again.
Anyone who has read my book (if you haven't yet, WHY?) knows that I hate NASCAR. I hate everything that has to do with it, and I hate that it is taken so seriously as a sport. It's a bunch of guys driving around in a circle - again and again and again.
At the time of the THE accident, my family was living in Moorefield, WV, and I was working as a Computer Operations Specialist at the Summit Financial Group. Like most of Appalachia, it was filled with NASCAR fans, and the news of the fate the Number Three was met with the cries of horror equal to that of the news of the 9/11 attacks I would witness from them a few months later (I'm not joking.)
There was little work done that day in the Item Processing department, as none of the ladies had their hearts truly invested. They had, after all, just been crushed earlier in the day. There was a lot of keyboard action, though; expressing emotions and trading stories and memories with other grieving fans across the world via the internet.
I remember a particular conversation I had with one of my co-workers before we left at the end of the night.
"There is already a movement under way to have Dale Earnhardt sainted!"
"Sainted? Are you kidding me?"
"No, he needs to be sainted, so he can be recognized for everything he's done."
"Mother Theresa hasn't even been sainted yet, and she touched millions of lives and did wonderful things for humanity! You're comparing HIM to HER?!?"
"Millions of people go to NASCAR races every year, lots of 'em just to see HIM! You've never been to a race, so you don't know how wonderful it is!
"Yeah, but to actually be sainted, a person has to perform some kind of miracle."
"MIRACLE?!?! Did you ever see him DRIVE?!?!"
This year is a special year indeed, in that it is the 10-year anniversary of the death of what was arguably the greatest driver of all-time, the Intimidator, the pilot of the #3 car, the late, great, Dale Earnhardt.
Moments away from solidifying his place in the NASCAR history books, he was seeking his second win at Daytona; in first place, leading the pack on the final lap of the race; when disaster struck, changing the racing world - no, the ENTIRE world - in an instant. A crash that would be remembered not as the most spectacular, or firery, or destructive crash in automotive history, but the one the would affect the world as no other crash ever had before, or would again.
Anyone who has read my book (if you haven't yet, WHY?) knows that I hate NASCAR. I hate everything that has to do with it, and I hate that it is taken so seriously as a sport. It's a bunch of guys driving around in a circle - again and again and again.
At the time of the THE accident, my family was living in Moorefield, WV, and I was working as a Computer Operations Specialist at the Summit Financial Group. Like most of Appalachia, it was filled with NASCAR fans, and the news of the fate the Number Three was met with the cries of horror equal to that of the news of the 9/11 attacks I would witness from them a few months later (I'm not joking.)
There was little work done that day in the Item Processing department, as none of the ladies had their hearts truly invested. They had, after all, just been crushed earlier in the day. There was a lot of keyboard action, though; expressing emotions and trading stories and memories with other grieving fans across the world via the internet.
I remember a particular conversation I had with one of my co-workers before we left at the end of the night.
"There is already a movement under way to have Dale Earnhardt sainted!"
"Sainted? Are you kidding me?"
"No, he needs to be sainted, so he can be recognized for everything he's done."
"Mother Theresa hasn't even been sainted yet, and she touched millions of lives and did wonderful things for humanity! You're comparing HIM to HER?!?"
"Millions of people go to NASCAR races every year, lots of 'em just to see HIM! You've never been to a race, so you don't know how wonderful it is!
"Yeah, but to actually be sainted, a person has to perform some kind of miracle."
"MIRACLE?!?! Did you ever see him DRIVE?!?!"
Labels: Moorefield, NASCAR, Summit Financial Group
¶ 11:01 AM 0 Comments
Saturday, February 05, 2011
