Home » Writer's Blogs » Nila-Smith

Fact and Fiction

Nila Smith ⁽³¹³⁾ United States

Nila Smith

Fact and Fiction

Dale Earnhardt Jr. -- Just a good ole' boy

Posted Thursday, May 28, 2009 (177 days 16 hours ago.) Viewed 221 times.

Those of you who have read my past articles know that I was led by the hand into stock car racing by my husband, but once I got a taste of it, I've never been able to get enough!

I have a list of drivers that I think highly of, not the least of which is Dale Earnhardt Jr., Tony Stewart, Carl Edwards, Ryan Newman, and Michael Waltrip. And in the last two laps of the race when Kyle Busch is smoking the competition, you catch me screaming my head off for whoever is in second!

I chose my favorites, each for different reasons. I like Mikey because no matter how hard he tries; he just can't get it right. He recently said that he was "fragile" in the head, and I believe it, but he is warm, loving, and sincere in everything he does, and always just a little goofy and that's why I like him.

I admire Mikey's courage to step out of the box with Toyota , and I'm happy that he has Reutimann on his team now. Though I'm not a fan, I do think the driver holds promise for the future of MWR.

I've added Ryan Newman to my list only since he joined with Tony Stewart, and beyond that I can't say for sure why I like the guy, just that if he's willing to take a chance with Stewart Haus Racing, then I'm willing to take a chance with him.

Now Tony, I like because he's the bad boy. He's hot tempered, out spoken, and doesn't give a hoot whether NASCAR likes what he has to say or not. I admire anyone who stands up and tells it like it is.

Even though NASCAR has put him through the paces for his attitude and he has come out a little more soft spoken and refined, it's still there, that devilish, impish look that tells you one of these days he's gonna blow! And when he does the world will know it.

And, ironically, I like Carl Edwards for the opposite reason. He is a gentleman and a gentle man. He does lose his cool once in a while but where Tony can be an erupting volcano, Edwards is more like steam from the tea kettle.

Generally he blows off a little bit, then later apologizes. He's a good driver, a good sport, and a good son. Recently married, I'm sure he's also a good husband.

And, that brings me to Dale JR.

Not long ago, the hubs and I were visiting with some new friends, and the fellow of the couple said that he had just in the last couple of years become interested in NASCAR.

His story goes that his wife won a big screen TV, and they decided they could add to it an inexpensive surround sound system. He said that the first time he had the opportunity to watch a NASCAR race with the new set up he was hooked.

Well, that's okay, we all have different reasons for why we like things, and I guess the sound of the track on a home entertainment system is as good as any.

But, in our conversation, he asked a question that caused me to stop and think. He asked; "why does everyone love Dale JR so".

Hmmm, why do I love JR? Why is he NASCAR's most loved driver?

It's not because he's a consistent winner at the track that's for sure! So how do we as JR fans defend our choice?

My first thought was, well I like him because he is the son of the Intimidator! Dale Sr. was one of the best of the business and most people will not even attempt to argue with that.

But, I had to stop there. If that was the reason, why am I not fond of JR's half brother Kerry? He too is the son of the Intimidator, he too has attempted to race, and currently his record is no worse than JR's is it?

So, I had to pass on that theory.

Maybe I like the guy because he was running second to SR's third with Mikey Waltrip in the lead the day his dad lost his life on the track.

That was a traumatic event for all of NASCAR, and somewhat poignant. Michael Waltrip was driving a car owned by SR, and in the lead, JR also driving for his father, was running a tight second, and it looked like it would be a close finish for sure. SR was in third, and I know he would have got a kick out of passing them both, just to show them that "the old man" still ruled, but at the same time, it seemed to me as I watched the race that SR was making a tremendous effort to block drivers behind him so his two boys could battle it out undisturbed.

I remember the chills I felt and the tears that were shed when we watched the ambulance leave the track that day, and my husband in a choked voice said; "they aren't running lights. He's gone."

So was it compassion for a son who had lost his dad that made us love JR?

Honestly, I think that for a while that is what held us.

As we watched a young man struggle with the loss of a father, the growth of a career, and a popularity that had to have been a little overwhelming, we rooted for the junior Earnhardt, willing him to become a mirror image of his father.

The thing is he hasn't turned out that way. He is not rough and tough on the track and he doesn't bully his way through the way his dad did. Yet, we all seem to love him.

So, tell me why does this guy have the following of the majority of the NASCAR fans?

Well, I've come to a few of conclusions for myself at least, and I won't be surprised if there are others who have to say, "yep, that might be the reason".

First, JR has always been a struggler.

Those who have followed the Earnhardt family history know that SR's father, Ralph Earnhardt was also a driver, but he never achieved great riches. Dale Sr. struggled to make his way in the race world at the cost of not one but two marriages.

He was completely focused on his career, and as a result, left fatherhood in the background.

The final result, his son Kerry was a stranger to him until the boy reached his late teens.

And while Dale JR was there, he wasn't really seen by his father most of the time.

Now in SR's defense, he was trying to build a better life through his racing, for all of his family, but like so many fathers in that same time period, he thought that work and money were the answers to what does it take to be a good dad.

What it led to though, was a young Dale JR struggling to gain his fathers attention, respect, and ultimately love.

The struggle lasted until early adulthood, when JR's budding racing career gave the two men something in common, and something both could be proud of.

As a Nationwide series driver, JR did very well driving cars owned by his dad, and the bond between father and son grew there.

So, in conclusion of point one, we as Americans tend to favor those who struggle to succeed, the underdogs if you will, and thus we saw Dale JR as the underdog who was struggling to be seen not only by the race world but by his father.

The most tragic part of point one is that JR was nearing the finish line with his dad. He was about to take the checkered flag as a son who could be admired and respected by a father who was bigger than life, but it all came to an end too quickly.

This leads me to point number two. Dale JR has now become NASCAR's favorite son.

When it was discovered that after his passing, Dale SR's third wife, Theresa had inherited most of his estate, I pretty well understood that.

As a second wife myself, I admired SR's consideration of making sure that Theresa was protected. Often times these situations where there are multiple wives and children from each one can leave the third and childless wife out in the cold.

However, I never expected that there would be so little for Dale JR.

There was of course a keen attempt to spin it that Dale and Theresa respected and cared about each other and that JR would be vested in his father's company, but that just never really came to fruition now did it.

In the long run, it boiled down to JR was just another employee, and once again, the son of the Intimidator was looking for respect, and certainly not finding it at home.

In the family dynamic though there was his sister Kelly, whom I believe is the driving force behind JR's enormous popularity. She has a knack for business, knows how to promote her brother and I truly believe has always acted with his best interest at heart. JR believes this also, as he has on numerous occasions given credit to his sister for his financial success.

When JR joined Rick Hendrick's team, there was a statement made that it seemed to be a good match because JR had lost a dad, and Rick had lost a son, and the two men found something in each other that they both needed.

I hope that is true, and I hope that Hendrick will start making some changes that will drive JR back up to the front of the pack. Up to now I've not seen it, and have been greatly disappointed in the would-be father figure albeit team owner.

News coming out of the Hendrick camp this morning says that Hendrick is at least exploring a different route for NASCARS favorite son, and I for one am hopeful, but not optimistic.

The reason I'm not optimistic is that JR treasures family, and even though he and cousin Tony Eury Jr. have had their squabbles, it has been proven that they don't get along as well without each other as they do together.

They tried that separation at DEI, and it didn't work.

I feel protective of JR, like I would my own child, because he's had it rough, and I think he is still searching for recognition and respect from a father figure.

To that end, I may not be alone in the feeling that he is my own kid. Perhaps all of his fans see him as extended family of some sort.

So far then I've theorized about his struggles and the nations desire to adopt him as their own, but I have one last theory that perhaps is the best one of all.

The answer came actually from my husband, when he answered the question posed by our friend; "why does everyone love Dale JR so".

My husband's simple answer was; "Dale JR is just a good ole' boy. He doesn't try to be something he's not, he's just real".

This may be the best explanation of all. The kid is real. He doesn't put on fake expressions, and offer phony explanations of why things are going badly right now.

He doesn't hide his disappointment when he's battled hard for 500 miles, and comes in 32 nd . He doesn't hide his anger when his pit crew drops the ball for him and costs him 10 places in a race where he had been running third before the pit.

He takes responsibility when he screws up on the track or in the pits, and he doesn't whine like a baby when he gets beat.

He takes the blame for a wreck when he deserves it, and he dishes it out with the best of them when he doesn't.

He probably swears a little too much, parties a little too hard, lives a little too loud, but that's one of the things we like about him.

He likes to gander about in the woods, collect old things, and play games. He's a typical boy with toys who puts his name on common things, like candy bars, and Wrangler Jeans.

He is the persona of a well written old country song; "just a good old boy, never meaning no harm."

Perhaps that one line, is the best theory of all as to why, though he's had a rough last couple of years NASCAR fans love him, and cheer for him, and go ape ugly on anyone who tries to put him down.

He's just a good ole' boy, and if he were my son, I'd be darn proud!

Permalink Comments (9)

A Special Day for Memorial - Heavens tiniest Angel

Posted Tuesday, May 19, 2009 (186 days 13 hours ago.) Viewed 587 times.

Memorial lay on her tummy peering of the edge of a fluffy white cloud.

In her hand she held a small pouch of gold dust swept up from Heaven's floor.

As she dipped her tiny fingers into the pouch and released the dust in the morning breeze, she giggled in delight as it landed on the dew kissed petals of the rose below.

She lay on her tummy, kicking her feet about her back, watching as the little girl in the garden below ran from flower to flower. Memorial clapped her hands in delight when the gold dusted rose caught the eye of the child.

As the little girls skipped toward the rose, she exclaimed "Grandma, we need this one! It's the prettiest rose in the garden?"

"Memorial;" the voice of Gabriel spoke behind her; "what are you doing here?"

As she stuffed the pouch of gold under tummy she looked back on the senior angel and with wide innocent eyes, she replied; "I'm just watching".

"And what are you watching?"

The little girl below is helping her grandma pick roses from their garden. I'm helping her. Oops, I mean I'm watching her."

"What are you hiding Memorial? I saw you tuck a pouch under your tummy, what is in it."

"Just some old dust I picked up off the ground."

"Just some old dust; you mean just some old gold dust don't you?'

Memorial ducked her head, and her tiny halo went tumbling forward, and landed on the soft pillows of a nearby cloud. "Yes sir", she whispered.

"Uh hum, well, you know, you've been warned about this. Now fetch your halo and come with me."

Memorial rolled over the edge of her perch, and landed in a soft plop' on the cloud that now held her halo. With tiny fingers, she picked up the halo and did her best to right it into its proper place.

Gabriel stood near by, patiently tapping a toe on a cloud as he watch the little angel piddle and stall.

Finally she was beside him, and he reached to take her tiny hand.

Together they went through the gates of Heaven, and walked to the great throne where sat God, in all his glory.

He looked down on Memorial, and spoke in a low quiet voice. "Have you been misbehaving again Memorial?"

The tiny angel shuffled her feet and closed her eyes against the look of disappointment she knew she would see on God's face "yes sir, I have."

"And what were you doing?"

"Helping the little girl pick flowers."

God smiled only briefly at the innocence of the reply, then pressed further even though he knew the answer, "And how were you helping?"

In barely a whisper Memorial said "I was sprinkling gold dust on the prettiest one."

"If it was the prettiest one, why did it need gold dust?"

"I don't know, just because."

"Because why?"

"Because;" Memorial stomped her little foot, and sent her halo ajar. "If I didn't help her, she might not see it, and she needs the prettiest flower in the garden because she's picking it for her mommy, and if she missed it then saw it later she would be sad because she didn't see it in the first place. I didn't want the little girl to be sad, you don't want her to be sad either do you God?"

God chuckled; Heavens tiniest angel was feisty, sometimes naughty, but always well intentioned. "Well, no Memorial, I would not want the little girl to be sad, especially not today."

Memorial cocked her head to the side, and again the little halo went askew. "Why not especially today? Is it her birthday? It's not Christmas, no roses at Christmas, Mother's day was just a moment ago, so why especially not today?"

"Today is a special day, a day when everyone on earth remembers all their loved ones who have gone to Heaven. And, for today I have a special chore for you."

Memorial gasped in delight as she clasped her tiny hands together. No one had ever given her a chore, not the minor angels, not Gabriel, and especially not God.

She bounced up and down, clapping her hands; "I have a chore! Oh my! What is my chore? Is it really special? Will I like doing it? Is it important to you? Can I tell the other angels you gave me a chore? Oh!"

She looked into the eyes of God and saw that he was trying to be quite serious. She clamped her hand over her mouth, and waited for him to speak.

His eyes twinkled, but he kept a straight face at her little outburst. "Today you are going to visit with humans as they visit a special place. You chore is to help them remember the people they love who now live in Heaven."

"As far as liking your chore goes, you know that I would not give you a bad chore, but it won't always be easy. If you think it is getting hard, remember me and know that you are indeed doing something that is very important."

Memorial whispered; "yes sir, I will remember you."

At that Gabriel took her tiny hand and led her to that special place that God wanted her to go.

Memorial was a little puzzled by what she saw there. It was like a large garden, but instead of growing roses, it appeared that the garden grew stones.

The stones were a variety of shapes and sizes, and Memorial saw that each stone had writing on it. She asked Gabriel what the writing was, and why this place was special to God.

Gabriel explained that when people die, their souls go to Heaven to be with God, but their bodies are put in a special place called a cemetery.

The stones with writing on them are markers so that when loved ones want to visit the grave of their loved on, they can find it.

Memorial cocked her tiny head to one side, a puzzled look on her face, "But why? Why do they come here, when the souls are in Heaven?"

"Because, they can't come to Heaven, not yet at least. So this place is where they come to feel close to the one who has died, and to remember them in special ways. That is your job today Memorial, to help them remember."

So memorial planted herself at the gate of the strange garden and waited for someone to come who needed help.

By and by a couple came to the gate, their steps were heavy and their faces looked very sad. They carried a wreath of rose and carnation, decorated with a ribbon of red, white, and blue.

Memorial watched the pair, and knew that it was her chore to make them smile. She skipped along behind them until they knelt at a stone. No larger then a fleck of dust, she perched near the ear of the lady. She whispered gently, and the lady smiled. "Do you remember the day he enlisted?"

"I do", the man replied. "He was so happy to be going to serve his country. He felt it was his duty, his responsibility."

"He got that from you". She smiled "Always do what's right, always stand up for what you believe in. You told him that all of his life. He felt complete when he wore that uniform."

The man smiled; "Yes he did, but he got part of that from you too. Always look out for those who are weaker than you. Always show compassion to those who are not as blessed as you."

Again she smiled; "he was a fine man, a son to be proud of."

"Yes indeed" the man said.

When the couple left the special garden their steps were a bit lighter, their faces wore faint smiles of gentle remembrance. They had lost a son in battle. But his memory was renewed that day, and they felt a great sense of love and pride.

Memorial smiled wistfully, she had done a good job on her chore she knew, and wondered if the next one would come along soon.

Soon came along an old man, carrying a bouquet of snow white daisies. He walked slowly, using a cane to support himself. His eyes were bright with unshed tears, and Memorial knew she had a chore to do.

Too stiff to bend, he could do nothing but drop the flowers in front of the stone. Memorial drew a deep breath and blew on the flowers until they fanned out beautifully showing each little petal and each golden center.

The old man laughed, "Imagine that! They landed just the way you used to spread them out! I remember you always took such care to make everything perfect. I didn't know it mattered until now, but it did."

He chuckled out loud; "remember the time you fell down and spilled the flowers? You looked so funny sprawled out on the ground with peonies and iris and roses scattered from here to yon. You hollered when I laughed, but I couldn't help myself, even now, it is as funny as the day it happened. And in time, you laughed over it too. Not that day, but in time you did laugh."

As the old man turned to go, for just a moment, he caught a glimpse of his lovely wife, laughing and poking fun at herself, and Memorial knew she had completed her chore.

Throughout the day folks came and went. Memorial planted memories and happy thoughts like a country gardener planting flowers.

As evening grew near, she knew that her chore was going to end soon, and she hoped that God would be pleased with her work.

As she sat there wondering what he would say, she spied a child coming through the gate with a bouquet of roses clasped tightly in her hand.

Memorial gasped when she saw the rose, the very one that she had sprinkled with gold.

She wondered why the little girl was there. She had picked the roses for her mommy, and her mommy couldn't be here.

Following behind the child was a woman, the little girl called out to her "I know the way gramma"! Memorial hesitated and wondered, the little girl didn't look sad. But there had to be a reason that the same little child she'd helped chose roses was here at this place.

She followed behind the lady and girl, and stopped just short of them when they came to a stone.

The little girl laid the flowers on the ground, and said "here you are mommy, I picked them myself! Oh look at this one; it is the prettiest of all!"

Now angels are never sad, they have no sorrow in Heaven at all, and Memorial wasn't sure what the feeling inside her meant, but her tiny blue eyes grew misty, and her heart began to ache. What did God want her to do? She couldn't give the little girls mommy back to her, so why was she here? For surely nothing else could make the child happy.

The lady put her arm around her grand daughter. "Do you remember your mommy" she asked.

The little girl dropped her head and shuffled her feet, and immediately Memorial knew that this was the most important chore of all.

With invisible wings she flew to the child and whispered great things in her ear.

The little girl looked up at her grandma, "Yes I remember mommy! She used to hold me and sing songs to me.

"We used to play house together under the kitchen table, and when I would fall down and skin my knees she healed them with kisses.

"And she told me that no matter how big I got or how far away from each other we were, I would always be her little girl, and she would always love me very, very much!"

When the little girl left the special stone, Memorial lingered, making memories of her own. She was there yet when Gabriel returned and took her by the hand.

As she stood in front of God, he asked her how her day was, and she told him it was the loveliest day she had ever spent.

He smiled a great smile that made his face glow, and he told her that this was the day for which she had been made.

He told her that she had helped them all in a very special way, for this day was her namesake, Memorial Day.

So when you go to visit a stone, just know that you are not there alone. Memorial is there right at your side, helping you remember all the good things you should, and wiping away your tears with gentle memories of a life lived, not a life lost.

Permalink Comments (20)

Archives:

November 2009
M	T	W	T	F	S	S
1	2	3	4	5	6	7
8	9	10	11	12	13	14
15	16	17	18	19	20	21
22	23	24	25	26	27	28
29	30
« Oct

All Posts by Nila Smith

Fact and Fiction

Dale Earnhardt Jr. -- Just a good ole' boy

A Special Day for Memorial - Heavens tiniest Angel

Archives:

Previous Posts:

Related Posts:

Blogroll