Rally round the monster trucks

My brothers have designated themselves Mark's official male role models. That designation simultaneously thrills and frightens me (anyone who knows my brothers understands this statement).

Last weekend, they summoned Mark for a Monster Truck Jam, taking place in San Diego. When I said we couldn't make it because we were having friends over for dinner, my brothers clarified themselves.

"You're not invited," they told me. "Just Mark. No girls allowed!"

Well, when you put it like that... suddenly Monster Trucks seemed okay.

I wasn't even sure Mark would want to go--he's never shown much interest in cars and trucks. But you can't mess with nature, and I soon learned some things are genetically implanted at birth.

"Uncle Scott's going to a monster truck race," I said, and Mark's eyes popped out of his head.

"CanIgo, canIgo, canIgo?" he asked, breathlessly. "Pleeeeaaase?"

"Really?" I asked, dubiously.

"Are you kidding me, Mom?" he scoffed. "Yes, REALLY!!"

And so he went.

The event lasted an entire day--they left the house at 2 in the afternoon, and didn't return until 10:30. It was split into two main events: the pits and the actual race.

The "pits" were actually the stadium parking lot, where the drivers parked their giant trucks behind a yellow tape border. The boys got to get up close, kick the tires and gawk at the enormous tires. (OK, they weren't actually supposed to kick anything, but they were little boys held back by wimpy tape borders!)






It would've taken me all of ten minutes to view the trucks, but I'm a girl, so what do I know? OK, what I know is that it wouldn't have taken me hours, like it took all the boys.

But the fun wasn't limited to just big trucks. It was also a veritable vice fest. Pick your poison, that's what these pics say to me. For the over-21 dads, that meant beer. For the under-21 crowd, that meant hot dogs, pizza, ice cream, and cotton candy. I was not worried in the least that Mark's blood sugar would go low.





The stadium was filled with all of the rednecks in San Diego and enough dirt to fill 400 dump trucks (fun facts from my brother Smed). In fact, Smed said, if you'd dropped a nuclear bomb over two certain redneck suburbs of San Diego that night, no one would've been hurt, because the entire population of those suburbs were at the stadium. (He wasn't wrong--check out this pic, it was a sell-out crowd!)



The beginning of the race was a little slow, Mark reported, because it took two hours to introduce all the truck drivers. (Scott reported it was a long time, but not that long.) Then the actual race started, and Mark said it was mostly trucks driving around in circles. Again, not very exciting to a bunch of hyper little boys all sugared up and full of testosterone.

But what happened after that put a gleam in all of their eyes. "It was the freestyle event," my brother Scott said, dreamily. Apparently, this is when the drivers did what they wanted, and what they wanted was to jump ramps and flatten those green, orange and red cars.

I got a jumbled report from Mark and my brothers, which was pared down to mostly verbs. "Got air!" "Crushed cars!" and the group favorite, "Fire!"

The last one, fire, was the highlight of the night. Spike, a dog-shaped car, caught fire, and as Smed loudly and repeatedly said, "It caught on fire, and wouldn't go out!" Mark, Johnny and Smed all shot their hands out like an exploding bomb, mimicking the flames. "It was AWESOME!"

"Was the driver okay?" I asked.

"He was fine," Smed dismissed me. "But Spike just kept burning!" Mark and Johnny clapped their hands excitedly at the memory.



I dunno, it didn't sound all that exciting to me, but the boys (big and little) absolutely loved it. They're already planning a return trip next year, and it's going to involve a tailgate party.

Which is fine by me...If they need to contact me, they can just call the spa, cuz that's where I'll be. Where hopefully, it will be quiet, the only mud will be on my face, and the only fire will be from the relaxing aromatherapy candles.

Because THAT'S my idea of a great weekend!