There is a kind of magic here in NASCAR country. It is a magic that transforms all those trailer park blue collar gentlemen and big hair wearing ladies into a high society of sunburns and gasoline, a society that appreciates a car crash like ballet and regards a mullet like a jewel encrusted crown.

I try to stay as far away from this society as possible, but its ubiquity is difficult to evade. Despite my usual disdain for NASCAR and its kitschy accouterments, I must admit it has its beautiful moments. I witnessed one just the other day. As I was making my way out of town on I-65 I noticed a large amount of cars ahead, all of them circling a large semi truck like a pack of lions around a lost elephant. But no malice was held inside these cars. Instead, their drivers held nothing but love and esteem for the semi and the contents it hauled. As I got closer to the herd I noticed how each driver craned their neck to take a long look up and down the sides of the truck that boasted a gaudy collage of red, white and black graphics from front to rear. Brake lights twinkled as each car extended its moment beside the NASCAR hauling behemoth for as long as possible.

I happened to be following a beat up blue Pontiac Bonneville loaded with a lone passenger who wore a camouflage baseball cap and t-shirt sans sleeves. Like all the other drivers on the road that day he craned his neck and tapped his brakes and nodded his head in excitement and approval. Then, as we crept up beside the semi’s cab he leaned to his left and jerked his shoulder up and down in a quick succession of movements to manually lower his window. Just as his automobile came to pass the semi’s cab he raised his muscular, farmer tanned arm straight up and out of the car and defied the power of the wind by lifting a trinity of fingers toward the heavens. The bleak sound of his honking horn was then serendipitously met with the bellowing of the truck’s lungs, and in that great moment of sound and fury they were joined together in the cosmic pursuit of “DOIN’ IT FOR DALE.”

And it was a sublime sight to behold.

here is quick poster design i did last night…its for a one act play that some friends of mine wrote about our ol’ alma mater.

Fall has come again, bringing the leaves to the ground.
Another year’s gone away, nothing’s changed in this town.
Far may it be from me to live someone else’s dream.
Although my aspirations soar, I’m left waiting for more.

So many times we believe that our lives will go to waste
Unless we strive to achieve so many things out of haste.
Sometimes we run too fast when God is asking us to crawl-
He who is faithful minding less shall be given to rule over all.

I hear a voice that says, “There’s so much more to life,”
But I don’t know where I’m really supposed to be.
I dream my name in lights for all to see,
But could it be that faithful to what i’ve got is what i first must be?

Fall has come again, bringing the leaves to the ground.
Another year’s gone away. I plan to leave this boring town,
But far may it be from me to leave my dreams because of fear.
And yet i’m not afraid to push a broom another year.

…ACTIVATE!!!

So my wonderfully talented and beautiful (but tragically married to another man) friend LEAH and I just got published over at TINY MIX TAPES. We collaborated on a review of one of the best shows either of us have seen in a long, long time…our band of the year, AKRON/FAMILY.

Not only do we adroitly execute music reviews, but we are also pretty stinking creative. Another of our favorite musicians, M. WARD, held a creative writing contest this week that asked “what is your favorite thing to do on Saturday?” Leah got 3rd place, and I finished right behind in 4th.