NASCAR is stupid fun.

By asking nicely, we got into a sold-out NASCAR race at the new Homestead Racetrack (God had conveniently cleared the area with Hurricane Andrew three years ago). As you may know, this is not highbrow racing. This is Yee-Ha! racing. (Judging by the crowd, you’d be hard pressed to put together one entire set of teeth.) And as such, NASCAR isn’t about skill, finesse or, for that matter, hygiene. It’s about Budweiser and crashing. A lot.