Chester Whipplefilter

the evolution of gratitude » cars (2006) & cars 3 (2017)

If you've ever wondered "so what is dirt racing" or "what is Kyle Larson" last week's Lawrenceburg Speedway race has you covered. I was watching trucks at the time (this is a lie; I was watching a trucks rain delay and then gave up and went to bed) but the rain delay meant I was actually just watching Flo's livetweets and highlight clips for the High Limit race, which truly had it all:

In 17.5 minutes, inclusive of a yellow and roughly 5 minutes of red flag coverage, this race includes:

Rico Abreu lapping 999 cars

points leaders taking each other out

Kyle Larson cutting a tire and going to the rear

Kyle Larson spinning and going back to the rear

Kyle Larson going from P20 to P2 in 20 laps, including a green flag stint that was P13->P2 in two minutes.

If you want to see 2 minutes of what winged sprint dirt racing is all about, 15:30-17:30 are all yours, because holy slide job.

I've been using Flo's YT archives of High limit races to watch while on the treadmill (starting from 2023 and working my way forward), which has been fantastic except for the part where now it is summer and I am bicycling outside instead, where I regrettably cannot watch sprint races, but I had to cheat and just watch this one. Maybe a few times.

It's the great CD roadtrip! The one where I play every CD in my car for no longer than the span of a tank of gas. Since the last update, I technically also played the audiobooks for Native Nations by Kathleen DuVal and Playground by Richard Powers, which is how long it takes to drive to Michigan and back.

I bought this CD at a record store in Toronto last year! It's a collection of children's songs either originally in Inuktitut or translated into Inuktitut. I always get track one stuck in my head, which I've shared here. It's apparently an Inuktitut cover of Daniel Boone's "Beautiful Sunday" but I guess now I know it better in the Inuktitut original.

While listening I was trying to decide if I would be able to identify Inuktitut if I heard it out in the world, having heard it sung many times (this CD went around three times today alone), and having also rewatched Atanaarjuat recently.

Cliff Daniels has the life outlook of a youth pastor; the radio demeanor of someone who does a lot of gentle parenting; and the spreadsheets of someone with a degree in mechanical engineering.

Meanwhile, Cliff Daniels on Twitter:

This morning, one of my friends linked me to this article about Lightning McQueen's planned appearance at the Goodwood Festival of Speed in July.

It's written in-universe, which is just *the most charming thing*:

Seven-time Piston Cup Champion Lightning McQueen is preparing to visit the Festival of Speed presented by Mastercard in 2026. Nine years after his major race victory at the Florida 500, McQueen will come to Goodwood to experience a very different form of racing to what he was used to in the Piston Cup 

But what really stood out to me is that the article states that Lightning McQueen won 93 of his 434 Piston Cup starts, which (I think?) is new information to me.

It's also a zany win percentage--21%, or an average of one win every five races!!!! The best to ever do it in NASCAR's modern era don't even come close to that, that's how zany that number is. (Though it's worth noting that Kyle Busch's win percentage in Xfinity blows this out of the water. No one will ever touch that--not over the number of races that he held it down.)

I wondered how they decided on 93 wins and 434 starts, because they're such specific numbers, so I had a think about it. And from all I can tell, these numbers are truly just a love song to stock car racing. It's so sweet. 😭

Lightning McQueen has:

7 Championships

--just like Jimmie Johnson, Lightning's racing contemporary who raced full time in the same generation (JJ: 2002-2020 // LMQ: 2006-2017)

93 Wins

--just like Jeff Gordon, icon of NASCAR's Y2K era and the years Pixar was getting off the ground. (Gordon's wins were spread over twice the number of races as LMQ/a career twice as long.)

21% Win Percentage

--just like Herb Thomas, driver of the Fabulous Hudson Hornet, a feat that has never been matched in the top series of NASCAR.

434 races also suggests that the Piston Cup season runs 39+ races a year, which is longer than the NASCAR's 36-race season (+2 weekends for the Clash and All-Star). 😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱

Can you imagine getting to end of a 39-race season and the Piston Cup is like "JK THERE'S GONNA BE A TIEBREAKER AND ALSO IT'S CLEAR ACROSS THE COUNTRY IN LOS ANGELES. FOR SOME REASON." Forget Chick, The King, and LMQ--think of the teams! The staff! That's how you really know your sport's got a stranglehold on the world populace.

I bicycled 28 miles for these for you, Denny

From 5PM Friday onward, I spent this weekend on basically 100% racecars. It was good and necessary. The next thing I had to do after receiving news of Kyle Busch’s death on Thursday (thank u @confluencechimera — that was so much better than finding out via some heinous AI Facebook slop) was *run a meeting* about Louisiana v. Callais and then keep running tech on that meeting while I went to another meeting until 11PM. Well, first I sat on my floor for two hours on Twitter, in shock and disbelief, and then when I got sad I stood in the shower before said meetings. And then the next morning... went to work? And said nothing. Because how do you even explain that to like... non-NASCAR people who are probably also normal about things. Come Monday, I still don't know. This morning I said, "How was my weekend? I stayed in my house lol."

Friday was honestly super triggering because TMZ (TMZ TMZ-ing...) released the audio of the 911 call. I didn’t listen to it, obviously, but descriptions of it were impossible to avoid, even if all I did was *open a new tab in Firefox*. And that was just so, so upsetting, because the general public should not have access to that, it should not be paraded around. And like, on a personal level, I didn’t want that in my head. That’s horrible.

The teams and drivers were only informed an hour before the public was, and while during NASCAR admin’s media availability on Friday some journalists asked some truly heinous questions (let’s be clear here, it was Claire Lang. It was Claire Lang’s heinous question), it was helpful to know that, in answer to another journalist’s question, NASCAR has resources and support for the teams and drivers. It was also helpful to know that everyone was given the option not to attend Media Day (Saturday), and that only people who were ready and wanted to be there should go. From my perspective, it felt protective, for the old guard to step into a lot of the initial media appearances, like Denny and Brad and Jimmie and Joey. And then teammates, past and present. People who drove for KBM. People connected via their kids’ friendships. Joe Gibbs.

Despite already knowing it was going to rain in Charlotte all week, I initially dreaded the idea that instead of teams being able to clear the slate for a few hours and work on something that demanded their full attention, they’d have to sit in rain delay protraction and stew in the uncertainty and have even more media availability. But I think Saturday ended up being really good, in that everyone was together, but also had a lot of time out of the car. And there was space to just be with the moment and with each other. Sharing stories, reflections, embraces. For everyone—teams, drivers, admin, journalists, TV media, fans. Because NASCAR is one of those weird things where like, most people have like three different jobs in the industry or have worked across different pieces of it at various points in their life (“X does graphic design for Y team but is also the tire carrier for Z and also races late models with Q”) and there’s an extremely liquid boundary between what is what and who is who. The formal TV broadcast well be on a last name basis with someone and then two minutes later be on first names. All the teams and drivers know all the media people by name, and we know everyone by name. Heck, we know who has a bundt cake business. Basically without any additional effort or sleuthing required, somehow we know the wives; the kids; the parents; who’s friends with who, who—doesn’t like Martinsville hotdogs, or has never head of the Appalachian Trail. Somehow, it’s all in there. And that’s how you come to know people like Samantha. Especially Samantha, who is outgoing and talkative and all in all a center-of-the-room kind of person.

And I mean, people will have the conversation about parasociality, sure. But the racetrack is the space of the collective. This weekend, collective mourning. I think the collective is an important dimension of the greater whole. There are things for the family, inside the house, and there are things for and from the neighborhood. I also think that even on its best, most innocent day, that’s part of what NASCAR is—intimacy amongst strangers at a racetrack, bound together by love of whatever this weird thing is. I hope that within the ether of the universe, the Busch family feels that love.

It’s because of the particularity of racing-as-collective that I feel like the pieces that were the hardest to handle and that meant the most were those that were part of the protocol of racing. Keeping “Busch” in the rear window of the 7 truck KyBu was supposed to race on Friday—the one he won in last week. Reflections from the man who re-wrapped the 8 into the 33. The silent witness of that 33 emerging from the hauler and being rolled to tech. Numbers gracing pylons. Decals flooding the field, on every single car. All the Rowdy nameplates. The Indy 500 coordinating across series and across states to bring these things to their cars, too. The 8 and 18 coordinating full decal swaps to KyBu’s font, for the cars and pit signs as well as the graphics package for the broadcast. Everyone coming out in KBM or KyBu or Brexton gear. KL going for a “Tiny Kyle” nameplate, to honor KyBu’s nickname for him (Tiny Kyle, as distinguished from Big Kyle, Kyle Busch). These mean so much because they are the language of the sport, in its most particular and most representative. Love and mourning and expression in a native tongue.

In no world did I imagine that the Busch family—Kurt and his partner, their parents, Samantha, Brexton, and Lennix—would be present for the 600. That seems unimaginable. I hope they were treated to all the space and respect they seemed to have been. But there is, again, something to be said of being in mourning together, even if you are mourning from different spaces and distances and relationships. I hope they felt held. I will remember Owen going to Brexton, looking shy and awkward and uncertain, to hug him. I will remember Samantha and Brexton, holding each other tight.

I’m proud of everyone who got it done, moved mountains. I’m proud of everyone who gave themselves courageously, generously, vulnerably. I’m proud of everyone who chose not to. I’m proud of everyone who kept it together (Danielle Trotta has balls of steel), and everyone who didn’t.

My best Kyle Busch photo, taken at the 2022 Gateway race.

Kyle Busch was one of my favorites from the very beginning of me as a NASCAR fan: Overton's 400, 2017 (Pocono). A jubilant burnout in the Caramel M&M's car.

I fell in love, early, with his account of his 2015 season in The Player's Tribune, which I still feel is one of the finest pieces of writing to come from the NASCAR garage: "Fire." I fell in love with Kyle Busch for all the reasons any fan has ever loved Kyle Busch. (Joining him in this early ranking: Denny Hamlin, Kasey Kahne, Jimmie Johnson, Kyle Larson.)

I loved him beating Kyle Larson's ass at the next Overton's 400, 2018, this time at Chicagoland. That is, beating Kyle Larson, my favorite driver. Kyle Busch had and will always have my permission to do that any time. Literally any time.

I loved him even at RCR, an organization that is, in my personal opinion, the devil incarnate.

The last six months have been a devastating stretch for NASCAR off-track, with Michael Annett and Greg Biffle and his family and the deadly Hamlin house fire and now, Kyle Busch. Kyle Busch, last weekend's trucks winner. Kyle Busch, winningest driver across all NASCAR series. Kyle Busch, mentor to like 75% of the field, either formally via KBM or informally (telling Larson to run high). Kyle Busch, always colorful and brazen and extremely funny. Kyle Busch, often irate. Kyle Busch, one of the smartest guys about the cars and the sport the Cup field still had.

It's been a weird stretch for me, too. A friend's sister passed at the end of February. A student, end of April. My uncle's 10th memorial is coming up at the end of next month. None of these deaths are connected, nor are any of their lives, except at their nexus in me. In my life, Kyle Busch is only a figure, not a person. But my uncle died similarly--suddenly. We learned 3000 miles away just after 9am in a Costco parking lot near the Chicagoland Speedway, when my mother turned her phone on. We'd been driving for over four hours before she had. I have no idea how old the voicemails were at that point. They were from some point in what, in the Eastern timezone, had been the dead of night. In California, a brain aneurysm. And then we had a country to cross. I associate this death with driving, driving endlessly.

I HAD TO TAKE THESE WITH MY WORK LAPTOP

Picture me standing in the middle of the parking lot--legitimately the middle, because laptop cameras are absolutely not wide angle--trying to figure out how to angle an entire laptop just to take these:

It's the Great CD Roadtrip! The one where I play every CD in my car for no longer than the span of a tank of gas, which is currently $4.19/gal here. Could certainly be worse; could certainly be better.

This is a strange one--not the first album people think of when they think The Rolling Stones, probably. I don't think most would hear it and think "ah yes, the Stones." In general, I enjoy owning this CD, but the entire time it was playing during this particular stint I was absolutely livid about it. It's very porch-sittin', bayou-watchin', black dog sightin' slow summer spooky music, and I've been pretty much exclusively stressed and upset about everything so the mismatch of my energy and the languid, slack-jawed pace of all this music kept making me think, "Haha! Hope you die!!!!!! Hate this!!! Hate you, CD!!!!!"

It's the Great CD Roadtrip! The one where I play every CD in my car for no more than the span of a tank of gas. This time, the second half of the audio for Cars 3!

Things that I thought about while listening to the last 45 minutes of this movie over and over again:

At the end of the Florida 500 after Cruz says she'd never race for Sterling, Tex immediately says, "Race for me!" It makes me wonder--who was racing for Dinoco in the Florida 500, then? We never see Cal replaced by anyone in particular, but I feel like you simply *cannot* sit out the Florida 500. If Team Dinoco didn't submit an entry into the Florida 500 I feel like the whole sport could collapse. Maybe they had a Florida 500 specialized who wasn't signed for the whole season to begin with. I'd say that maybe they had someone who would happily spend development time in the Sippy Cup, but man, weird situation.

It's interesting to think about how different racing must be in the Piston Cup vs. NASCAR. The three things Smokey emphasizes in his training are drafting, "sneaking through the window," and instinct/moonshine running. The latter two are, I think, simplifications of very fine layers of racecraft that LMQ is already well familiar with and has already demonstrated elite levels of skill with, but he says straight up he'd never drafted before. In NASCAR, drafting isn't really an optional skill, nor one reserved for when you're lacking in your own speed, so the racing across both series must be so, so different. Though I guess we already knew that, given that cars shaped like The King, Chick Hicks, and LMQ could all be competitive against each other/race with parity despite their obviously different aerodynamic profiles. I just think it's cool to think about how the physics/the way racing works must differ from our world!

2026 NASCAR Cup Series, Races 00-08

I've decided to remember this year's races by taking one memorable (to me) screenshot for each race. Unapologetically biased toward "cars I care about" regardless of whether they were actually relevant to the overall race. Here's the first 9 for the season!

00 Clash - Everyone around all day forever

01 Daytona - oh look, this wreck collected the 5 AND the 48

02 Atlanta - right before a stage points payday the 5 drives into SVG and throws it all away

03 COTA - Myatt Snider unexpectedly subbing for Bowman

04 Phoenix - Blaney's car rolling away mid-VL interview

05 Las Vegas - 5 9 24 all racing at the front in a tight bunch

06 Darlington - 5 racing well all day only to finish P32 after hitting the wall with 10 to go

07 Martinsville - 9's pit strategy paying W-shaped dividends