Friday, June 21, 2013, 4:39 PM

Stop Making Sense

This isn't healthcare real estate related ... but it's a Friday, so roll with it.

I was sitting here at work, stressing about a project and waiting on completion of a task that was out of my control.  To take my mind off the stress I glanced through the Charlotte Business Journal and saw an article (by Erik Spanberg) about former Talking Heads frontman David Byrne visiting the NASCAR Hall of Fame during his last visit to Charlotte.  Byrne blogged about the visit to the HOF and also about some NASCAR recollections of his bandmates (alas, no longer Talking Heads, but "Love This Giant").

The thought of David Byrne touring the NASCAR Hall of Fame in his big grey suit was more than enough to ease my project deadline anxieties ... at least for a few minutes.

Anyway, here's the article, in case you are interested ...

David Byrne at NASCAR hall: How did I get here?


The NASCAR museum attracted notable visitors this week: David Byrne, the former lead singer of Talking Heads, and his bandmates from Love This Giant.
 
 
Finally, the NASCAR Hall of Fame lands the New Wave endorsement it has always needed. David Byrne, the eclectic former frontman of the Talking Heads, blogged about his recent visit to the NASCAR museum while in town this week for a show at the Blumenthal.

Byrne and St. Vincent, a singer-songwriter described as an “indie ingénue” by Rolling Stone, performed here as part of a collaboration called Love This Giant. The duo’s tour journal online includes a diary posting for the Charlotte visit, complimenting the cycling greenway but lamenting its limited length and lack of connections. Band members also ate at Harvest Moon and offered a rave review.

As for the $200 million NASCAR museum, Byrne includes photos snapped of a stock car and a driver’s suit covered in sponsor logos from the displays.

“Would that every politician, artist or entity of any kind with corporate sponsorship revealed his or her backers so honestly and blatantly,” Byrne says. He also notes the assumed relationship between NASCAR and Chiquita because both companies’ logos adorn the NASCAR Plaza office tower uptown. Byrne notes he never knew the companies were related, and there is a good reason for that: They aren’t.

Elsewhere, some of the band members share what they know about stock-car racing.
“Our drummer said that yes, the thunderous roar of a race is pretty gut wrenching — he also remembers leaving the track with the insides of his nostrils coated with rubber dust,” Byrne writes. “Someone else remembered going and thinking they had gotten really good seats for a surprisingly reasonable price — they were in the second row. They soon found out why those seats were cheaper than those higher up — as soon as the first group of cars zoomed by, they got pelted by bits of rubber and were awash in diesel fumes.”

If Byrne adds “I Can’t Drive 55” to his set — I can’t even finish that sentence.

Which, it must be said, represents NASCAR’s version of “Burning Down the House.” Oh, come on, you would have taken the same cheap pun, too. Admit it.

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