Dale Earnhardt died in a crash today, during the Daytona 500. I am not a racing fan, but I will mourn. Largely because the only other racer whose name I know is Jeff Gordon, who, in the commercials, dips Fritos into chili and calls it dinner. So, the racing world has truly lost a class act. They say that most fatal accidents occur within five miles of the home. However, they do not say that about race car drivers. That would be stupid. Unless said driver raced exclusively within five miles of his home. There would be a certain bittersweet irony if Earnhardt had died in a run-of-the-mill traffic accident, but no — he died as he lived: going around in circles at heart-stopping speeds.*
I just thought of the Unser family. But weren’t they a singing group in the seventies? I think I have some of their stuff on vinyl. Scratched, but listenable. You buy?
* Edit: Technically, he died while being smashed between a wall and another car at 200 MPH. He probably did not live that way.