Army of Mom

So this is how liberty dies ... with thunderous applause.


Losing my Nascar virginity

Well, I did it and I fell in love with racing.

I am officially a redneck. Now, if I can just learn to drink beer and flash my boobs for beads, then I'll be the perfect female race fan.

We managed to get there early enough to see all the pomp and circumstance that goes on before the races. I really enjoyed that. Right now, I'm watching Kasey Kahne in first place in Lap 76 of the Radio Shack-Samsung 500 on TV.

The race started off with Kasey in the eighth position. I couldn't fiure out what the deal was on the first couple of laps when I couldn't find him and he was on pit row. I figured it out today after reading the pit notes. Apparently, he had issues with his track bar and a cut on the right rear tire. He did finish 11th after busting his butt and working hard. It was so exciting to watch him work the track and get around other cars. I really enjoyed it. I think I'm a race fan for life.

We had a nice group of older ladies sitting in front of us, a nice couple behind us and the Manson family next to us. Fortunately, those guys moved. We had some rednecks down in front of us and Santa sitting in the next section.

Here is the pit row during the national anthem. I thought it was a cool look.

Getting ready to start.

The races start at the fans cheer.

Santa is a race fan.

My son fell asleep early on in the race. Only my kid could sleep during a Nascar race. Of course, he did have karate Friday night, a soccer game and a teeball game both on Saturday. So, he had a full couple of days. He woke up refreshed and happy.

His brother was close to the same way, sort of nodding off early on. He had karate, too, and a soccer game with no subs (so, he had to play the whole game). But, after a little shut eye, he was good, too.

These redneck fans provided some gross entertainment later.

Man, it was hard to get photos of the cars going so fast. But, I managed to get some Kasey No. 9 car shots.

I got a few better ones, too.

He was running the mayo car for the Busch race.

We got a bit grossed out at our rednecks in front of us.

Then, it gets worse.

I bet she's a plumber. She's just missing her tool belt.

Hot Rod became a Kurt Busch fan. He may be one of the few.

I shot some little videos of the race, but can't seem to figure out how to upload them. :(

Here is Busch celebrating his win.

We took a while before we left to let some of the traffic die down. We learned another thing that goes on at the races. Apparently, the campers get out and offer beads for boobs and to guys for squealing their wheels. These dorks in front of us left a large part of their tires on the road for some 50-cent beads.

I just don't get it. Took us forever to get out because of these people.

We didn't have our camera ready when we saw some boobs being flashed. I'm sure AoD was disappointed at that. He enjoyed the scenery at the races. I'm addicted now.


  • At 2:56 PM, April 09, 2006, Blogger MrsDoF said…

    Looks like a great time! Been a long time since I was in rednecksville. My dad passed on in 1989, so yeah, years and years.

    The boy's ear protectors tell a different angle about being at the races. Another thing I remember is the smell of the fuel and the beer spilled all over the stands.

    And now we know what Santa does in Texas during his off season.

  • At 2:58 PM, April 09, 2006, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Some excellent photos, AoM! Great camera you have.

    And I'm with you: say "No" to crack! Well, unless it's Angelina Jolie's, I guess.

  • At 9:49 AM, April 10, 2006, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    *shaking her head*

    And, I raised you so much better than this.

  • At 12:00 PM, April 10, 2006, Blogger El Capitan said…

    I can go one better than sleeping at a NASCAR race. Back in the late 70's, my parents took us out to a county fair, where the main entertainment for the evening was a tractor pull. We'd never seen anything like it, so we got a pot in the bleachers.

    Those things weren't your typical John Deere tractors, either. These were big honkin' monsters, some with jet turbine engines, all with no mufflers. When those things popped the clutch and started to pour on the gas, you could feel the engines thundering like someone hammering on your chest with a mallet.

    Of course, my 6 year old little sister slept right through it all. No headphones, either!


Post a Comment

<< Home