Time for Therapy

A few readers have asked how I come up with some of my ideas for stories. It is really quite simple. Some pop into my head while watching the race. Other times it might be a billboard or goofy comment I hear on a television show. This week was too easy. I discovered during Easter dinner at moms that I am in need of some serious therapy. That's right I have an addiction to NASCAR.

It is about time that the Betty Ford Clinic adds a whole wing for the thousands of NASCAR addicts that need to kick this dirty habit. The warning signs come in many forms, perhaps you might even recognize one of these in yourself. If you remember the phone number to your favorite pizza pub by Terry Terry Terry Steve Rusty Steve Rusty then you might be a NASCAR addict. If you remember your wedding anniversary by Dale Dale Buckshot then you might be a NASCAR addict. In my case it was even easier to spot. It was the chocolate bunnies and colorful Easter eggs that my mom used to decorate the dinner table this week that gave me away.

We were enjoying a wonderful Easter dinner when the subject of stock car racing popped up out of the blue. OK, so it had a little help by me when I asked my sister how the Caterpillar folks celebrated their first Winston Cup win this year. The race talk continued as I educated my family on the finer points of drafting when all of a sudden I was possessed by some unknown force. Before I knew it I had constructed a miniature version of Richmond International Raceway out of jelly beans. I affixed little numbers to moms colorful Easter eggs and the race was on. The blue number 2 egg of Rusty was fastest in egg time trials with the number 5 egg also starting at the front of the carton. It was a sorrowful sight as I had to award DW's number 66 egg a provisional as he failed to qualify against two dozen of the fastest eggs ever seen. By the time the number 3 egg started cracking shells on his way to the front my Mom was ready to call professional help for me. Now my whole family was aware of my ugly secret. I am a full fledged NASCAR addict.

Ten straight weeks of racing (Counting the Bud Shootout of course) without a break it was bound to happen. There must be thousands of others just like me suffering from this same ailment. Perhaps someone can start a special twelve step program for us. Perhaps the president or congress can intervene

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