Monday, August 16, 2004

A Day at the Derby

The Tillamook demolition derby, that is. Because I agreed to attend the derby Saturday night, Yang agreed to spend the day at the beach with me. It is a perfect deal because, despite my moans and groans, I love the demolition derby. It is an unadulterated celebration of white trash. It is like watching a train wreck ten times over, without serious bodily injury (usually). Here are the highlights:

  • Duct-taping on a neck brace before the round began
  • Reading a list of sponsors (usually about five) for each car, and then proudly announcing the grand prize of $700.00.
  • The respectful round of applause for the car that only made it half way to the starting line-up before it died.
  • The saying on the side of the “Sponge-bob” car that read “Support are Troops.”
  • The car that caught fire.
  • The other car that caught fire.
  • The fat, short man in a red tu-tu.
  • The uninterested lady next to me reading “Psychic Self-Defense.”
  • The overpriced caramel apples and elephant ears.
  • The hilarious spectacle of 15 cars smashing into each other until only one car remains running.

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