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If I don't see you before Easter, hide your own eggs.

I had a friend who used to say that. He had other designations, some not as clean, for other checkpoints on the calendar.

On the day we honor Christ's resurrection, as well as eggs, bunny rabbits and chocolate in the form of eggs and bunny rabbits, we will not watch the NASCAR Sprint Cup Series. They're all hiding eggs this Sunday, many in exotic vacation destinations.

I won't be hiding eggs. Ain't got the dye. Don’t want it.

I don't even know what's on TV. I haven't checked. I reckon there'll be some basketball. It's feverish this time of year. March Madness is so intense that it spells over into April nowadays. April Angst is the best I can do in a hurry.

NASCAR fans look forward to the beginning of each season the same way Christopher Columbus looked forward to the New World.

Now, though, it's five races in, and the season is going well, all except Junior hasn't won. The only surprise in the top 10 is 10th (Austin Dillon). Jimmie Johnson has won twice this year and 77 all-time, and that's one more than Dale Earnhardt before he left suddenly in 2001.

For all the gnashing of teeth over the prospect of utter Joe Gibbs/Toyota domination, so far, drivers in Chevrolets have won three times, and drivers of Toyotas and Fords have each won once. Nothing is the slightest bit different about that. After the Daytona 500, I think I remember talk of the Japanese taking over. Of course, my grandfather probably said the same thing the day he enlisted in the Army after Pearl Harbor.

It's a recurring theme. The republic generally survives. Maybe NASCAR will.

Easter brings contentment for NASCAR fans this spring. The racing is a little better. The finishes are a lot better. If there must be a week off -- and God knows I enjoyed them when I was riding the circuit on a bull named US Airways that loved to take me for a ride in fits and starts -- the best place to go next is Martinsville Speedway, a place I love so much I wrote a song about it.

Martinsville ... a place frozen in place in time ...

Ah’ight, I admit it. The finishes have been great, but what about the three hours leading up to it?

Martinsville. That's what. Go. It's great on TV, but it's much better in person. It seems a little slow where the def is high, but it gets much faster with the highest resolution, the one that comes with being there.

This week off is a good thing, and not just for praising the Lord and sprinkling a little salt on Jesus's hard-boiled eggs.

One week off is all that's necessary for fans to start feeling like that old Brahma in the chute at the Greenville-Spartanburg International Airport again.