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I read somewhere – and, gosh knows, it could be fake news – that 79 percent of the people are not on Twitter, and I thought, well, this cannot be. Yet I cling to my Twitter followers – and my Facebook friends – and I’m banking on the hope that a much larger percentage of the few, the proud, the people who care about what I write, are more likely to be interested in NASCAR, and my novels, and the small school where I went to college, than the average bear looking for pic-a-nic baskets.

Aw, Yogi.

What of that hardworking fellow who spends all his time working on refrigerators so that he can scrape up enough money to buy a new recliner, has a Facebook page that he mainly checks to avoid forgetting his cousin’s birthday, and just wants to sit in that new recliner and watch the stock car race on the weekend?

NASCAR is about to start up, and that fellow had better be prepared to pay attention.

I spend way too much time on antisocial media, and each day finds me discovering new features on the latest edition of the video game. I think it’s the Monster Energy NASCAR Cup Series. Either that or the NASCAR Monster Energy Series. A long shot is the NASCAR Energy Monster Series. Anyway, Monster Energy is not a revolutionary means of providing cheap electricity. It’s a beverage that mimics the jolt of coffee without the pleasing taste.

Go easy on the Monster Energy drinks. It’s going to be tempting to shotgun one when the race comes on. Stare at the screen. “Lit” is a popular term these days. I expect it’s going to take a little explaining of what might happen and a lot of why what just happened did.

Marlene, honey, would you please bring me another one of them Monster Energy drinks? How come you started drinking them nasty things, Elmer? It’s the only way I can keep up with the NASCAR race, dear.

They’ll have lengthy breaks; and pit-road fakes; at Pocono, Tasty Kakes; in Florida, infield lakes; and lots and lots of commercials. Everything except uniforms is, well, uniform. Take more than five minutes working on a car, and it gets towed.

I wish I’d have been in on the planning. I’d have pushed for soft walls that light up like pinball machines when cars bounce off them.