By Shane Stornanti

drivers on closed course, do not attempt, not actual NASCAR cars, always wear your seatbelt

This year NASCAR is more important than ever. Why? Two Words: NASCAR Dads. Surely you’ve heard—politicians are desperatley trying to court the NASCAR vote. What? you say. NASCAR?

OK, so NASCAR. I know absolutely nothing about it, yet I am writing about it. When it comes to NASCAR, I am the equivalent of an annoying girlfriend who keeps asking her man what is going on when all he wants to do is watch the freakin’ football game. I ask all those questions: What’s he doing? Why are they doing that? What does that mean?

I know…you’re thinking, “Where do you get off writing about NASCAR?” Well that’s just it—someone has got to look into this, and I live in the throbbing, engine-revving NASCAR heart of New England, so I’m completely qualified.

To me, NASCAR is a bunch of cars going round and round really fast. But there has to be something to it if it has become the biggest spectator sport in the United States (yes, it’s true). On a recent weekend in New Hampshire, the state police shut down 5 out of 6 lanes on Route 93 for Christ’s sake. Why? Because thousands upon thousands of cars packed with fans were leaving the racetrack.

That race is a good example of the enthusiasm we're talking about. You should have seen all the big trucks. They arrived for a week before the race, hauling the race cars, heading for the New Hampshire International Speedway in Loudon. On a big weekend, like that one,150,000 fans will descend upon Loudon (pop. about 5,000) and go fucking nuts. All it means to me is that I’ve got to stay off the roads.

Of course, in all this madness, there are some interesting things to see. It actually isn't as hicky as I thought it’d be. You see a lot of BMWs coming up from Massachusetts and Connecticut with NASCAR stickers on their bumpers. I was surprised at the numbers of Yuppies. I wonder how they fit in with all the janitors and construction workers, their nice cars parked next to pickups with rusted campers on them.

It lead me to wonder: what is it about NASCAR? I figured I would start at the source to gain some insight into this phenomenon.

So a few weeks back, I sat down to watch my first NASCAR race with Mark Fournier. He is my girlfriend’s uncle, in his 40s, the maintenance man at the county jail, owner of two horses, an all-around funny guy and an avid NASCAR fan. Especially a fan of Jeff Gordon (#24). So I asked him the same questions that I asked myself:

What is it about NASCAR? What is The Draw? From the outsider’s perspective, it’s just cars racing in circles. Mark replied that it was far more … It’s the scene, the accidents and of course THE HORSEPOWER (his voice changes when he says it… HORSE-POWER … as if it were a mighty spell…). He went on to say that being at a race, not only can you hear the power, you can feel it. “It shakes every bone in your body,” he said.

I continued my questioning: So, going to a race, huh? Who is the typical NASCAR fan?

“A good ol’boy, with a beer in his hand and a cap on his head,” Mark said.

With his favorite racer’s number on it?

“Exactly”

So your favorite racer is Jeff Gordon. Why him?

“I really like the color scheme of his car,” he replied.

I paused … and told him that was really gay. Sort of like saying you’re a Vikings fans because their uniforms are pretty. He agreed. A few hours later, after he’d left my house, Mark called me and offered this in defense of his masculinity:

“ …Well, I have been following NASCAR closely for about 10 years now and back then, Jeff Gordon was one of the Young Guns. One of the mavericks. An up-and-comer. Competing with the big guys of the time, Petty, [Dale] Earnhardt [Sr.] … He stood the test of time and made a name for himself. He has won some championships and on top of all that…he has a cool color scheme on his car.

I considered it a much manlier response.

I ran into another NASCAR fan named Laurie who is nuts about Dale Earnhardt Jr., fondly known to his fans as just “Junior.” I asked her, why Junior?

“Oh he is just a Good Ol’ Boy. Look at him, he’s young and good lookin’. You know my nephew kinda looks like him, see?”

She whips out a picture of a guy in his late-20s holding a baby. I don’t see a resemblance but I find myself saying, “Oh yeah,” like I just solved some mystery that has plagued my subconscious for years. “Yeah, he sure does.”

There is the reoccurring theme of the “Good Ol’ Boy” in the NASCAR mythology. What exactly makes one a “Good Ol’ Boy” I wondered?

Do a Google Image search for Good Ol’ Boy and you’ll see everything from pictures of dogs, to hunters holding beers, to a Rebel flag for some Ozarks Civil Rights Group. I guess it’s more of an Ideal than an actual person. A Good Ol’ Boy, from what I could gather, is a “normal” person…someone with the basics, who likes to eat, likes to compete (or watch competition), drink beer and put in an honest day’s work.

At the Speedway, the crowds will be full of such normal people. There are rednecks of course, but lots of jock dads, hockey dads, NASCAR Dads, the kind who will probably vote for George W. Bush. I wonder if they yell at their kids while holding fistfuls of Bud?

Now, as I watch the car and truck loads of good ol’ boys leaving this fair state, I can’t help but think to myself … if Florida is considered a state from the Northeast placed in the South, then New Hampshire is definitely the Georgia of New England—without minorities.

But regardless of what the outsider thinks of NASCAR, the drivers are superstars, with “hot wives” and more money from sponsors than I could possibly imagine. These guys are driving advertisements—and getting plenty of air time. I even saw a Jesus car at one point. I shit you not: Jesus’ NASCAR. Which leads me to ask … how does he drive in those sandals? Does he wear a fire protection racing suit? Why doesn’t his Father just let him win every race? It makes you wonder if God is pulling more for Kurt Busch (the current points leader) than his Immaculately Conceived Son.

Having said that, one thing that is for certain: NASCAR is here to stay. Unless, of course, it’s just another fad—you know, like they said about Rock and Roll, or Hip Hop. And New Hampshire, for its part, will remain a weird crossroads of American culture.

We are known here for our fall foliage, our winter skiing, spring hunting and summers by the lake. But we’ve got seasons of American culture, too. This spring, for example, all the Democratic presidential candidates arrived up here, clogging traffic and attracting hippies, trying to win New Hampshire, as if the state mattered. Bush eventually came, too.

In the summer, thousands of motorcycle fanatics rolled into Laconia for Bike Week, bringing their Harleys, beards and bearded women (there were a surprising number of Yuppies in that crowd, too ...). Fall brings NASCAR, and soon, the snowmobilers will be filling the clear winter sky with exhaust.

I guess it's just Normal America. New Hampshire, after all, isn't as fucked up as you might think. We have all the things a city has, it’s just more spread out. And no minorities.

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