Darlington and Disney for Dummies

The month of May is here. Kentucky may have the Derby, but here in South Carolina, we have Darlington.

As I’ve come to expect, The Southern 500 Nascar race at Darlington Raceway scheduled for Saturday, has already received a lot of airtime on the local news. Early in the week it was just a nod given via webcam of the empty track and grand stand, right ahead of a commercial.

Now, here we are midweek and the constant stream of tales, both tall and not, about the 60 year old track, affectionately referred to by many a NASCAR driver as “the track too tough to tame,” has commenced.

Believe it, or not, the sport known for participants that ooze bad boy cool while boldly brandishing trademarks for things good, and American, like Mountain Dew, Tide and Viagra, didn’t start out as the high falutin sport we know today. I know. Hard to believe. You can pick up that jaw now.

Big business in the form of big tobacco and beer didn’t become part of what was to become known as NASCAR (National Association for Ear Crushing Stock Car Auto Racing) until years later, after it was observed that people were willing to pay money to spend hours and hours watching our great nation’s most wild at heart drive around in circles.

Imagine a hot summer night in the South long ago, back before you were even born! Little grabbed, much less held the attention of bored young men except for love of corn whiskey. The most mechanical of the speed inclined among them would be drawn together like sweat bees to sweet tea, forming an informal Confederacy of speed. Chevys and Fords, fine tuned Detroit babies were loved like first born sons. Together they’d roar into the night, pent up energy, laid down like rubber, in contests to determine the fastest. No one intended to stay out of trouble. The only plan was to not get caught, as they outran Johnny Law from one county to the next.

I am not a NASCAR fan, but clearly I have seen The Cannonball Run. RIP, Dom Deluise. But as with anything so loud, colorful, and fast, and repetitive annually, it’s hard not to get taken in by the spectacle. But I’ll try. At a distance. I keep saying I’m going to go to Darlington myself someday, for the experience. People laugh at me when I say this. Unless somebody drags me… can you hear me Uncle Bubba?- I doubt if it’s ever going to happen.

Here’s a confession that might help you understand: I don’t even like Disney World.

Loud, colorful and fast don’t bother me by themselves, but throw me in the middle of 70,000 race fans or Disney goers and I freak.

So for now every sportscaster in the vicinity drools in anticipation of the big race. Whether this is their first, fourteenth or fortieth pilgrimage to Darlington, they wax nostalgic about this true pillar of the NASCAR establishment as if discussing the day Jesus became their close personal friend. It’s historic. It’s as important as it gets. But I know I will think it’s just plain too crowded.

Since there is nothing really newsworthy to talk about yet, in the past few days I have learned several things about Darlington, “the track too tough to tame.”

-It has been repainted in a retro paint scheme which can be seen in the top photo.
-The prices of hot dogs, fries and water have been lowered. These items at a NASCAR event are essential for life. Particularly the hot dogs. Hot dogs on race day are even more sacred than hot dogs at Junior League meetings, or baseball games. These aren’t French fries we’re talking about here. Just fries.
-75,000 people are expected on Saturday.
-The total economic impact on the state is estimated to be $54,000,000.

In my imagination I can smell it from an hour away in Myrtle Beach: asphalt, gasoline products, beer, hot dogs, and burned rubber. I’m 99% sure that if the wind blows a certain way though, I could actually hear it.

Most intriguing to me was today’s oft repeated slow news day story. Actually, it was more of a public service message. I heard it no less than three times in a forty minute time span while I was exercising on my elliptical. (Yes, I own an elliptical. No, I’m not a NASCAR person. *If you must ask what owning an elliptical and NASCAR have to do with one another, I explain, below*)

The following safety advice was bestowed upon potential racegoers from the Darlington County sheriff’s office:

- lock car
- prepare for traffic delays
- don’t abuse handicapped parking spaces
- don’t drink and drive
- have plan in case you get separated from your group
- use patience when moving through crowds

The sheriff’s office must think that race attendees don’t get out a lot. And that they can be tamed. But I guess the hope is that even if one impatient, Merle Haggard- on- PBR race fan remembers to not park (abuse?) in the handicap spot and lock their car, in that order, all will be fine.

I still believe that a trip Disney World is potentially a lot more dodgy as far as crowd unruliness than going to the Southern 500. There are entire books written about how to survive trips to Disney World. I tried to find a picture of a kid crying their head off with Mickey Mouse to show you here, but none were to be found. Most horrific tales of woe about kiddie meltdowns and moms going postal at The Magic Kingdom were all over the place. Interestingly they were mostly juxtaposed next to the happiest looking people you ever saw. Denial or irony? You decide.

If anyone is going to Darlington, and has an extra ticket, can I meet you there? Bubba? I promise to be really patient and not get too drunk. I won’t even freak out over the crowds. I’ll bring the corn whiskey.

*The elliptical is the exercise machine of choice for people who for various reasons are concerned about injury, such as the kind one might get walking (or running) on a treadmill or driving drunk and fast in a jacked up car then irresponsibly and might I add, illegally parking. Nascar people aren’t concerned about injury. Generally speaking, I deduce that the elliptical is for people who only go to Darlington maybe once.

If you enjoyed this post, be sure to subscribe to my RSS feed!