All the proof you ever needed and more
to convince yourself that we are surrounded by a bunch of phreaks.
If that’s not enough, check out your local monster truck rally. I had the (dis)pleasure of attending one of those charming events recently. Picture, a football stadium, packed with just about every redneck in a 50-mile radius. You might be thinking, Rednecks? In San Diego? How many could there possibly be?
Oh, innocent Internet, you have NO IDEA.
The rest of us were there accommodating requests from our children. The sacrifices we make as parents.
I just can’t grasp the appeal of these things. This is the basic rundown of the events:
- Pile into stadium parking lot, after paying $10 for parking (PARKING! To have my car sit in a designated space that I damn near got in a fist fight with the asshole next to me because he wanted to tailgate in the surrounding FIVE spots).
- Walk 2 miles from parking spot to stadium entrance. (paid $10 for that privilege - did I mention?)
- Stand in line for 40 minutes to pick up tickets from Will Call. That was the “short line” too.
- Walk another 1/2 mile to seat.
By this time I’m thinking, what the hell have I gotten myself into? Then the ‘event’ begins.
- Very large trucks, with very large tires enter stadium, crowd erupts in cheers.
- Trucks park.
- Crowd cheers.
- Much waiting.
- Qualifying round begins.
From there - it was basically two trucks, going in circles, jumping on/over a bunch of cars. Left turn, jump, left turn, repeat. Over and over again. Crowd cheering, until someone nearly rolls or crashes or veers off course - at which point crowd goes completely apeshit. Just when you think it’s over, and the lights in the stadium are dimmed, the big screen lights up with the worst possible news you have seen all night: “INTERMISSION”
This and NASCAR - an equally ridiculous idea - are the makings of and absolute perfect hell. I promise you, you may have to check in with St. Peter on the way through the gates of heaven, but the door to hell is kept by one of two people: An elderly person in a blue vest saying “Welcome to Wal-Mart,” or Jeff Burton. And the road to hell? A series of left turns.
