Violence at the destruction derby

Ted took his wife and two boys to the destruction derby at the state fair the next town over. He was excited--to have the whole family together for an event like this. "Everyone should get at least one chance to take their families to the destruction derby," Ted said in the car as they pulled onto Route 4. "Someday, I hope you boys will have families of your own to take to the destruction derby, and you can tell 'em about how your old pops took you back when you were kids."

They got a good parking spot, right up front. "Looks like this is my night!" Ted said.

***

Ted didn't know why he turned around. On the track, the cars were circling each other, with a few tentative hits here and there. The crowd was shouting. The bleachers smelled like beer and burnt food. For whatever reason, Ted turned around, and then the man standing in the row behind him punched Ted right in the face.

***

Ted and his family walked past the rides and the food stands and the buildings with all the agricultural exhibits to get to the track at the back of the fairgrounds. The destruction derby was starting soon.

Waiting in line for tickets, Ted ran into Pastor Keator from their church.

"Pastor! Good to see you!"

"Good to see you too, Ted! I see you've brought the whole family out, I assume to see the destruction derby?"

"Yes, Pastor! We're all very excited for it."

"I can imagine. Some of my fondest moments from childhood were of my father taking me to these very fairgrounds so we could watch modified cars slamming into each other."

"Are you here to see the destruction derby, Pastor?"

"I am. Mary's at home sick, unfortunately, but I didn't want to miss the derby this year, since who knows if they'll even have one next year!"

"Would you like to sit with us, Pastor?"

"I am flattered, Ted, and thank you for the invitation, but I wouldn't want to intrude on your family's evening. Besides, I find the destruction derby an ideal environment for solitary contemplation. Did I ever tell you it was at the destruction derby where I first opened my heart to God, which directly led to my decision to pursue the ministry?"

"No, you didn't!"

***

The punch was not a particularly vicious one. I mean, it was hard, and it was right on the chin, but it was hard to detect any anger in it. The man who punched Ted--it was difficult to detect any malice in his face, towards Ted at least. He looked angry, with his eyebrows pulled down like a pulled-apart v, the skin above his nose wrinkled, his lips thin, his mouth open and taller than wide, like a zero more than a letter o. He had all the facial cues of anger, but it was not a specific anger--he was not angry at Ted. He didn't even looked angry at all--more like whipped into a frenzy. He was playing at angry. This is why Ted did not think of him as a threat, and it is why he was so taken aback when the man punched him right on the chin there in the bleachers at the destruction derby.

***

Ted stopped just short of tearing up during the national anthem. He belted out all the words from "o'er the laaaaaandd of the freeeee" on.

The checkered flag was waved, and the cars began to circle one another. Two particularly daring cars sped towards each other across the dirt and had a kind of glancing collision--one or both turned right just before they hit. But the sound of metal hitting metal was electric--Ted could feel it coursing through his body. His youngest grabbed his arm.

Both of the cars involved in the collision had stopped working. The drivers got out and scratched their heads and examined the inky smoke seeping out the sides of their hoods.

***

Ted turned around. His reasons for doing so were unclear. The man behind him--who was shouting at the cars on the track--punched Ted in the face. His reasons for doing so were unclear. Ted groped for something to hold onto. In the process he knocked his youngest's pretzel onto the ground. Ted found nothing solid to hold onto and he fell backwards. His reason for doing so was that he had been punched in the face.

***

Back at the car, Ted unlocked only his own door. He sat in his seat and locked himself in. There, he wept. His family stood outside their respective doors, hands by their side, totally still, waiting for Ted to compose himself and unlock their doors so they could all go home.

***

WHAT HAPPENED TO AMERICA? THIS IS NOT THE AMERICA I KNOW. IN THE AMERICA I KNOW, A PERSON CAN BRING HIS FAMILY TO THE DESTRUCTION DERBY WITHOUT EXPECTING TO BE PUNCHED. PUNCHED IN THE FACE, JUST LIKE THAT, IN FRONT OF HIS FAMILY, RIGHT AT THE DESTRUCTION DERBY! FOR NO REASON!

BACK IN MY DAY, THE DESTRUCTION DERBY WAS A SACRED PLACE. THE WHOLE FAMILY WENT DOWN TO THE DESTRUCTION DERBY ON SUNDAY AFTERNOON RIGHT AFTER CHURCH. YOUNG MEN BROUGHT THEIR DATES, AND THEY PICNICKED RIGHT THERE IN THE INFIELD, WITH ALL THE CARS CRASHING INTO EACH OTHER AROUND THEM. THE KIDS BROUGHT THEIR BASEBALL MITTS, HOPING TO CATCH A WINGNUT OR A CARBURETOR THAT FLEW OVER THE FENCE INTO THE BLEACHERS.

WHAT HAPPENED TO THE DESTRUCTION DERBY? IT WAS A SAFE PLACE. IT WAS A PLACE YOU COULD TAKE YOUR FAMILY WITHOUT SOMEONE LOOKING AT YOU COCK-EYED OR BEING RUDE TO YOU. THE STRESSES OF DAILY LIFE WOULD MELT AWAY, WATCHING THOSE CARS CRASH INTO EACH OTHER. AND NOW WHAT? WHY, LIKE EVERYTHING ELSE IN THIS COUNTRY, THE DESTRUCTION DERBY HAS GONE TO HECK. JUST AN EXCUSE FOR NO-GOODNIKS WITH BAGGY PANTS TO DRINK BEER AND PUNCH EACH OTHER OUT. AND GOD HELP YOU IF YOU'RE A FAMILY MAN, BRINGING YOUR FAMILY TO THE FAIR FOR A NICE DESTRUCTION DERBY. YOU MIGHT GET PUNCHED OUT!

I DON'T RECOGNIZE THIS AMERICA. NO, THIS IS NO AMERICA THAT I RECOGNIZE. AND IT MAKES ME SO GOSH DARNED SAD.

***

Ted and his family found their seats. They were lucky--they found four spots on the bleachers right near the middle of the track. They were a couple rows up so they could see the road on both sides of the enclosure--they would have a great view of all the cars hitting each other.

Ted luxuriated in it all for a moment. The aggressive black of the new asphalt; the taste of motor oil on the back of his tongue; the sound of idling engines. His oldest had brought his baseball mitt, but he was too taken with it all to even remember to put it on. Ted smiled as he watched the drivers stretch and shake hands and chat before the destruction derby was to begin. This is it, he thought. This is it.