Nightmare scenario*

 (*Largely imaginary, but still)

Caught a brief snippet on NPR the other day about this weekend's upcoming Freedom 250 IndyCar event on the streets of D.C., and how curators of the various historic sites Alex Palou 'n' them will be hotrodding past are concerned the vibration might damage some of the nation's most treasured art and museum exhibits.

"There's a reason the speed limit in these areas is 25 mph," the spokesperson unearthed by NPR said, adding that race cars ripping through at seven times that speed therefore are a legitimate concern. It was all very NPR-ish, which is to say it addressed an issue I had never considered or was even aware was an issue.

Frankly, I still don't think it's much of one. But the curators who think it is are far more qualified to determine that than some dopey sports lunkhead, so the question remains: What if race cars tearing around at 180 mph isn't good for our national treasures?

The course, after all, hits a whole pile of highlights. After a long run down Pennsylvania Ave., it makes a hard left past the National Archives, then another hard left past the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History, then a hard right past the National Gallery of Art. A few blocks later it makes another hard left past the Air and Space Museum, then angles past the National Museum of the American Indian.

And so a nightmare scenario immediately  blooms in the nightmare-scenario-obssessed brain of the aforementioned dopey sports lunkhead ...

Air and Space Museum Guy (after the vibration sends Freedom 7 and the Spirit of St. Louis crashing to the floor): Welp, there goes John Glenn and Charles Lindbergh! Thanks a lot, Pato!

Museum of Natural History Guy: Four laps and our dinosaur skeleton is a pile of bones! Terrific! Imma make Ericsson and Rosenqvist come in here and put it back together piece by piece! And they'd better get it right!

National Gallery of Art Guy: Son of a BITCH! The Van Gogh and Da Vinci are RUINED! And our van Eyck looks like a second-grader's finger-painting now! Damn you, Scott Dixon!

And last but not least:

National Museum of the American Indian Guy: Figures.