Become a digitalPlus subscriber. $13 for 13 weeks.  Man About
Town: L.A. Racing school makes him take stock  You're talking
about someone who death-grips his martini. You're talking about
someone who double-clutches during teeth cleanings.  So what am
I doing in a stock car, thundering around a speedway at 120 mph?
Killing time till happy hour? To me, all hours are happy hours.
It's just a matter of how you choose to spend them.  Now, as
humans, there are things we automatically and collectively don't
like: ice cream headaches, Annette Bening's laugh, webinars.
Then there are the things we automatically love: frogs, Ali
MacGraw's legs, reruns of "The Wonder Years."  In between, we
have things like auto racing. Some love it. Some don't. I happen
to have a need for speed and jittery suspensions.  Sitting still
is what frightens me. Like all those idiots lounging around
Starbucks all day, working on their spec scripts. Oops, that
idiot's me. But still.  What they do out here at Irwindale
Speedway is hogtie you