A Study in Contrasts

The Scene: Marriott Suites in Old Town Scottsdale, dining room, Saturday morning

I sit eating my granola with yogurt and berries and sipping a cup of tea. I have brought nothing to read, so I continually glance around, taking in the participants.

To my right are two couples, appearing to be in their 40s, plates filled with eggs, bacon, sausage, ham and hash browns. The men are overweight, wearing baggy shorts, NASCAR-themed t-shirts and ball caps. (Whatever became of men removing their hats in the dining room?) The very blond wife of one man gestures and points with her fork as she talks and eats.

Across the room is another couple, in their 60s. They exude elegance. He wears a black long-sleeved button-down shirt, black slacks and shoes. He sips his coffee as he reads the Wall Street Journal. She has a mass of lovely naturally-grayed hair, poufed delicately up into a topknot on the back of her head. She wears a rich blue shirt, collar turned up to frame her face. Her light tan slacks are cinched with a patterned fabric belt. On her feet are the most beautiful caramel ghillies with tan trouser socks. As they wait for their breakfast to arrive, she sips her tea and checks her agenda on her PDA.

Such is life in the Valley on the weekend of the Checker Auto Parts 500 at the Phoenix International Raceway. Scottsdale is known for its money and class. But a NASCAR event brings visitors from far and wide, finding hotel rooms wherever they can. Mixing up the demographics.

(Question: I understand how an airport gets to be international — flights arrive there from other countries. But how does a raceway get to be "international"?!)

Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to go make music. You see on which side of the demographics I'm situated!

P.S. As I reread this before clicking "Publish," I have to reveal that I've been to NASCAR events. I've been once to the Daytona 500 and twice to the Daytona 250. My dad and oldest brother were/are both big race fans. I always told Daddy he had to invite Mother to go, and she never accepted. (See how I want everyone to always feel included? How sick is that?!) But every time I was asked, I went. So this post is not about putting down anyone's lifestyle. It's just about the variety, the spice, of the human race.