Iron Man

This ancient mothering sun North Carolina continues to explode cars, miles of cars in every direction. There are also radio ads.

Ten a.m. Sunday morning in the North Carolina Mountain range. Cars, miles of carriages, in every direction, thousands of cars, pastel cars, aqua blue, aqua beige, aqua buff, water dawn, aqua dusk, aqua Malaca, Malacca, Cloud lacquer, Assassin Pink, Rake-a-cheek Raspberry, Nude Strand, Honest Thrill Orange, and Baby Fawn Lust all go into stock-cars races. This ancient mothering sun North Carolina continues to explode cars from all over America.

Cars of America

Seventeen thousand individuals, including myself, were all of us driving Route 4~1 out to North Wilkesboro Speedway stock car races, 17,000 headings to Coca-5,8-mile Cola’s stock car track. That doesn’t mean that today morning in the South, there are no preaching and yelling. Pregnancy and American cry are here. Any one of us can switch the old car transistor radio on and receive anything we want: 

“It’s susceptible dogs. Yeah! In large vehicles, they ride about—hunger for a long time. And chasing American ladies. Yeah, And drink spirits. Unnh-humble. And cigars with smoke. Oh yeah! Oh yeah! And they’re susceptible dogs. Yeahl Unh-hunhl Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Amen!” 

There are also radio ads that cost ten cents a pound for Aunt Jemima grit. American Gospel Harmonets as well, singing, “You better grab two if you dig a ditch….” 

Stuck in Traffic

There is also three nonsense in the New American South panel debate, which General Lee seems to think of running the new Dulcidreme Labial Cream plant at Griffin, Georgia. 

And suddenly, on Sunday morning, my car is still stalled during the world’s most tremendous traffic congestion. It goes from the North Wilkesboro Speedway for 10 miles in all directions. And right there, it dawns upon me that all traditional concepts of the South are restricted to this circumstance. The radio on Sunday. The South preaches and shouts, America has country music, old Mimosas traction, clouds of dust of clay, Old Bigots, New Liberal people – and all this is limited to Sunday radio, with all of that old mental cholesterol.

It wasn’t anything that I heard in panels today about South that I was in the middle of the good. The eye-catching pastel vehicles along the motorway roaring over the hills head to the stock car races for miles and kilometers. In southern Carolina, there are 15 years of inventory cars racing and baseball, with 44 professional baseball clubs all across North Carolina, America alone. All were in a new world, the Southern Cars, and heading for the race I’ve never seen, the Southern Car Pilots, in those two-ton mammals at an average speed of 175 m.p.h., Fireball Roberts, Freddie Lorenzen, Ned Jarrett, and Richard Petty, one of the fastest car driving car loaders in the race.