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I’m was watching a “teaser” for the movie I
Am Legend and it occurred to me that the basic premise of the movie
is a parallel to my life. Will Smith’s character is the only human survivor of
a biochemical disease and his task is to fend off bloody thirsty zombies.
It seems that I’m the last man in America who doesn’t find NASCAR to be
exciting and exhilarating and similar to Smith’s character I must fend off
Bud-thirsty zombies. For a while, I had many friends who shared my disdain for
watching cars go in a circle. We all laughed and mocked the asphalt-addicted
masses for finding joy in such a mundane event. Its pedigree is in “moonshine
running”, you know. Then, one by one they began to venture over to the “dark
side”. Some times the passage would begin with a friend sheepishly saying,
“I have a customer that wants me to take him to Talladega . I hate NASCAR, but
he’s one of my best customers.” Or it may have been a drunken, “Me and
them guys over there with the cowboy hats are leaving for Bristol tonight. Yeeee!
Haw!” Whatever the circumstance, I’m now alone, abandoned by all of my
friends.
It’s
not my intention to imply that anyone that enjoys NASCAR is mentally-challenged.
That would be untrue. I once worked for a network integration company and every
one of the engineers loved NASCAR. These guys would sit around and discuss the
binary number system or Virtual Local Area Networks all day. I, on the other
hand, try to decide whether it would be better to plug into the Ethernet port or
go USB. Who would I be to question the intelligence of a network engineer with a
Mechanical Engineering Degree? As cautious as I was about waging a battle of
intellect with these Einsteins, I did venture into some debates with them. Once
during an argument, one of the engineers said that NASCAR drivers were all great
athletes. When I asked for an example of a NASCAR driver’s incredible athletic
prowess, he replied, “Sometimes the temperature in those cars gets up to 150
degrees. You have to be a great athlete to drive in those conditions.” Well, I
gotta tell you in 1962 when I was driving that ‘55 BelAir, I had no idea what
a great athlete I was.
Sometimes
my aversion to NASCAR has led to some frightening moments. Last week I
discovered that not every fan is as non-violent as the engineers that I worked
with. I was in a bar and they had NASCAR
Tonight on ESPN. The host of the show was talking to a scrawny geezer
with a pencil-thin mustache. Without malice or forethought, I laughed and said
to no one in particular, “Now, there is a great athlete.” Well, those words
were picked up by one of those “Bud-thirsty zombies” and he lumbered over to
where I was sitting. Unbeknownst to me I had cast aspersions on a stock car
deity, Richard Petty. The Bud-thirsty man shoved me and said, “You can’t
talk ‘bout Richard Petty that way.” I guess it was the scotch I was drinking
that told me to shove the Talladega knight. He went careening over a table and
stumbled to his feet. Realizing that the scotch had given me bad advice, I
ran through the bar and out to my car. Jumping in the car I quickly started it
and sped through the parking lot. When I looked in my rear view mirror, I saw
that the enraged behemoth was in his truck, right on my tail. I was scared and I
swore off scotch forever. This guy was going to kill me! I came out of the
parking lot and quickly turned to the right. That stealth-like maneuver
completely caught him off guard and he had no counter maneuver. I drove
triumphantly away, knowing I had escaped a true NASCAR athlete.
I
AM LEGEND!
Copyright 2008 Ike Martin
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