Forty Five

I've oft mentioned here on The Franklin Monologues just how many Elk Grovians choose to treat Franklin Blvd. as their own mini-NASCAR oval. Although Franklin Blvd. is anything but an oval, it being a semi-major 45mph north-south collector road for a few thousand thru-commuters, many of my neighbors love to open up their minivans, sub-compacts, and SUVs up and down Franklin as they pretend they're Kyle Busch of NASCAR fame, passing competitors to grab that checkered flag at the end -- the flags being their 3,200 sq ft starter mansions off Whitelock Parkway.

Coincidentally, the same thing occurred last Sunday in Newton, Iowa as my dad was trying to return home from a long east-coast trip. He telephoned me as he was under siege from throngs of NASCAR fans pining for the Nationwide Series Race. Although Kyle Busch wasn't racing there in Iowa that Sunday, he was racing a new sports car and got carried away in North Carolina, ticketed for going 128 mph in a 45 mph zone...on a street probably not much different than my Franklin Boulevard.

These are the sorts of people who kill other people with such acts. In some sense, and I'm sincere here, I almost wish that this Busch would have either killed himself, wound up paralyzed, or better yet, injured or killed another North Carolinian while driving his new car at 130 on what was [presumably] a suburban collector road. It had a posted limit of forty five -- just like my Franklin Blvd. It would have been good for the sport of NASCAR (in my myopic view) if one of its crowing jewels would have had to be extracted from the shell of his now-totaled hot-shit vehicular unit, air-lifted to the regional medical facility, and handcuffed to the bedrail while having his rights read to him regarding the four counts of vehicular manslaughter he's about to be indicted for. So much for the perpetual reputation of speed-without-limit, that NASCAR should find its way alongside public schools and residential neighborhoods every hour of every day.

I post this alongside a few thousand other on-line commentators who echo similar thoughts, as can easily be found on myriad chat rooms and newspaper comments. This is barely newsworthy and hardly warrants a post to begin with, really, considering that several thousand of us do this everyday as it is, and that he'll never be properly held accountable for his stupidity. Not that I could escape jail time if I were to drive three times the speed limit on Franklin, but Kyle obviously can, as I'd wager the North Carolina trooper likely pursued an autograph for his wife, his 9-year old future speedracing son, and to hang an autographed 5x7 in his locker at the precinct. "After all, it's not every day you get Kyle Busch!! coming through our little burg! Hee-Haw!"

Perhaps someday a former NASCAR "professional" will indeed get smashed at a local bar and plow himself underneath a flatbed tractor-trailer...perhaps it's already happened. I enjoy watching racing, yes -- indeed, I'm all set for the Indy 500 this weekend; however, I'm not prepared for it here on Franklin Blvd. in Elk Grove, but as a car dependent species we love to open up our rigs, love to get from B to A as fast as humanly possible. Busch is just mirroring a larger public infatuation with recklessness with our motorized toys.