Catchfence

This is gettin’ to be a habit. It’s strange for me to hang out with people I can’t see or yell at in person. Of course I do have my email, but, that lacks the zest of chewin’ on a live person, if ya know what I mean. Sometimes I wonder if someone is tryin’ to tell me somethin’, but, it is what it is and I rather like it. I mean the gals and the beauty shop are off limits. Of course that was an agreement between them, me and the police department, which is neither here nor there. And the people at the bingo parlor think I’ve finally gone over the “old folks edge” as they call it. Can you believe that hogwash? I was merely attemptin’ to show my enthusiasm for racin’. When I would bingo I would yell one of my favorite driver’s name. This week it was Mark more than Tony or Jr. He did win last week ya know, but, I can tell you one thing right now. I don’t care how much that little whippersnapper of a driver Kyle wins, I will never yell his name unless it is preceeded by a big bottle of strong spirits and followed by ugly words and a large jackpot. That little snip needs a major whippin’, in my opinion.

That brings me to one of the reasons for this particular writin’. Did you read or see that ramblin’ nonsense Kyle was spewin’ to reporters about his smashin’ that guitar? Just answer the question boy. Why go after JR’s fans? What in the world did they have to do with it’? It’s about you boy and your bad behavior. And then when people ask you a direct question you try to throw the attention on somethin’ else? You are a talented young man, no doubt about that Kyle, but you keep this stuff up and some of those drivers just might make a stump out of a busch. Know what I mean? Your actions show a real lack of appreciation for most anythin’. You better value these good things while you can young man. Before you know it that glory will fade. It will sure enough and most all of your tomorrows will be “remember when” days. Grow up and face up while you still can. There just isn’t anythin’ much worse that a mean old man with bad manners and an attitude to boot. Believe me, I know. There are a bunch of those who sit outside the barber shop, which is funny cause a good deal of ‘em have no hair and while I do so love a bald head, none of that is neither here nor there. It is an example though. Glory fades, boy, and forgetfulness, yours and everyone else’s, as well, sets in. You better think about it and learn from it while you still can. I’m very sure that was a waste of brain workin’s and typed space, but, it is what it is..

Now, a little more about Mark. Well I just love that name first off. I had a suitor way back when by the name of Mark. He had the cutest laugh, I do remember that and when he smiled, oh my goodness! Anyway, Mark Martin can still drive the wheels off that car. Lord have mercy! Just does my heart a world of good to watch him out there and he has the cutest smile, much like my long ago Mark. But I do know that that’s neither here nor there neither, but, it sure tickles me in the nicest way. And I just catch myself daydreamin’ about Mark winnin’ a championship. I don’t know and have no idea how to find out but if he manages to do that would he hold some record for oldest winnin’ champ? Perhaps someone will email me the answer. I am hintin’ in case you can’t tell.

And lastly I reckon we should discuss Digger. I guess there are a lot of older people I just can’t seem to get to relate to racin’. I mean for heaven’s sake grass growing and rockin’ chairs are so time consumin’ that some of our “senior citizens” just can’t fit anything else in their busy schedules. As if ! I just love that sayin’. It sure sounds better when someone with a seasoned sense of propriety says it though. But somehow, someway some of those old women have lost their everlovin’ minds over Digger. Come on racin’ booth people. Digger? It isn’t real folks. What else can you say. I mean, we have been forced to watch this little animiated rat of a thing with a female rat of a thing picnicin’ in the infield and then bein’ chased by a bigger fat rat of a thing. And some people just eat that up. CYBT? (That’s shortenin’ for can you believe that?) Now look, it’s cute to see him pop up when the cars speed by and that look on his face reminds me of the scared look on my late husband Elmer’s face when I caught him sleep walkin’ next door in Wilma’s house late one night, but, that’s neither here nor there. But enough is enough. Point is, if I’m gonna spend good money on a racin’ related t-shirt, it’s gonna be for someone or somethin’ other than Digger (or Kyle Busch). I’m sorry Darrell, honey, but I just can’t see it. You put out a copy of that t-shirt someone gave you at Fontana a few years ago with Route 66 (them were the good ol’ days) and somebody loves you on it or somethin’ like that and I just might part with a buck or two, but, I just can’t buy a rat shirt. Either rat, Darrell darlin’. Seems un-natural somehow. Work on that suggestion will ya sweetie?

Well, that’s about it for now. Email was slow this week. It don’t much matter. I have a lot of important things to do, but, just in case you feel like writin’ (and I also give good love life advice) feel free to send your comments and/or questions to grannygrump@catchfence.com