Monday, December 8, 2008

Beer, cigarettes, my kids and demolition derbies.

So there I was. Sunday night. Sitting there staring at Elmo's World with my two kids.

For some reason, my mind reverted back to grade school. It was summer or, to be even more descriptive, possibly Indian Summer. Late September. Early October.

Almost every year in my early childhood, my mom and dad would toss us into the car and drive out to St. Clairsville, Ohio, for the Belmont Country Fair where we would stuff our faces on elephant ears, funnel cakes, corn dogs and freshly squeezed lemonade.

Then, we would go see other fantastic attractions like crappy birdhouses at the 4-H tent, bulls eating hay at the farm tent and older kids busting balloons with darts for Van Halen mirrors on the midway.

On this particular day, however, we didn't come for the funnel cakes or the cows eating hay.

We came for the mother-fuckin' demolition derby!!!!

Now, I'm not sure of the chemical make-up of boys. Or why my brother and I enjoyed destruction as much as we did (or do). But, when we found out we were going to see the demolition derby the night before, we couldn't sleep. It was like Christmas in late August. To top it off, the fact that both our birthdays were in July, we had three Christmases (Christmasi?) every year.

And yes, the demolition derby was awesome. If you're a guy, you totally understand why. There's just something about 20 cars crunching, banging and slamming together that gets a guy really excited. It feels like you're in a fistfight against 50-some guys in a scunched up hallway.

And let's not even talk about the busted windows and exploding radiators.

It's almost as exciting as seeing a lady naked. Butt nekkid.

I said almost.

So there I was watching Elmo's World, staring at my son and daughter running around, doing a jig to the Elmo's World theme song and, in general, just having a good ol' time with life.

Then, for a couple minutes, I found an evil Grinch smile form across my face.

I have a son, and perhaps a daughter, who will wholeheartedly go see a demolition derby with me. And by wholeheartedly, I mean without question. And by without question, I mean forced.

Because, you see, my wife might not be interested in seeing a demolition derby, but goddamn it if my kid's aren't going to go with me.

We'll see. I just may get my youth back yet.

5 comments:

JMc said...

Bradley, this is one of the best blog posts I've ever read. Anywhere. It makes me want to go the demolition derby again. With my kids, or your kids, or total strangers.

cbrown said...

I've been to quite a few with my Dad at the podunk fairs around Ohio.

You gotta love the front wheel drive cars (i.e., Oldsmobile Toronado), running around with their ass all flattened and still wreaking havoc on the station wagons.

Kameron D Kiggins said...

Lord yes do whatever's required to take your kids to the demolition derby. Beg, steal, borrow, bribe or incapacitate anyone who objects.

I've seen one (1) demolition derby and it's a highlight of my youth. I was 10 or 11 years old and an older brother took me to little fairgrounds one summer weekend. About ten cars, each with homemade jail-bars welded over their windows, bashed the shit out of each other for an hour. I was entranced.

Anonymous said...

My sister drove in one before she had her license. The guy she was dating prepped a car, just for her. Romance, Ohio Valley style.

Your Finest Eimer said...

Appreciate the nice responses everyone. Just goes to show that demolition derbies are way underrated as a national pastime.