I was stopped at the intersection of Beltline and Midway in North Dallas this week, staring at some goofy birds as they dive bomb a flattened muffin on the island.  You know, like, a fat man on a blah, flies on blah or zit on my blah.  What!

Exactly.  My gazing took me to the curb.  Literally. 

We treat some big time motorsports stars like a piece of bread.  Tugging at them, picking at them and to be redundant, literally, taking a bite out of them.

Can we be so serious as to think deep inside our dark, dingy depths of existence that we MUST do this for satisfaction?  Yes, and some of us do it in not so subtle ways.

Sh** man, look at what Jimmie Johnson goes through to get to his autograph session at his product trailer.  Them damn birds chippin', nippin' and clippin' at him to get a piece.  A piece of Jimmy that will not fill their belly, wet their whistle nor clear their clogged nose.  Muffin and nose…I'm coming to see you Ehtyl.

But I be damned, you'd think these folks grabbing John Force or any other colorful-clothing-clad mo'sports demigod had not eaten in 8 days.  At least not fulfilled their daily pyramid food quota.

I am not about to go Dr. Phil on your ass.  I am not going to try to decipher this cult of personality.  I don't know.  And I am not about to say some of those who began walking upright about three years ago should stop.  They pay bills and pay for the beer.

From my experiences of being around those worthy of some nip and chips, I will say this.  And, you can take it as if my ego is the size of Talladega or it's just flat out humble beginnings (my money is on the even numbers). 

You can't take IT with you.  You CANNOT take IT with you Gomer.

Your grandson, honestly, won't give a sh** if you leave it for him when you crap the big buggy in the sky.  "Ma, grand pappy left me a signed rib bone from Alex Barron."

Swear.  It's happened.

I've interviewed Junior, Jeremy and John a dozen times and not once asked for an autograph.  I've got my memories on tape.

However, I did miss my chance at chippin away at a muffin early on in this entertainment career. I didn't ask Stevie Ray for his. 

That's o.k.  Logged away, somewhere in the Dallas records building is a speeding ticket I was slapped with while chauffeuring Stevie from my radio station to the Texas State Fair Band Shell 20 years ago.

Don't miss YOUR chance to get a good piece of the muffin.