Smash, bang, and civilization

at the demolition derby

The sky was an endless blue as we drove out to the part of Virginia where you begin to see vultures circling on the warm summer air. As part of our immersion into American life, we were going to a demolition derby.

The only thing I have seen like this is the opening scene of The Love Bug (a film I feel that I saw dozens of times as a child) which features cars bang, smash, clang, and boom into each other against a soundtrack that has elements of pageant, waltz, and a day at the races. When you see cars constantly colliding and overturning to the tune of the Die Fledermaus Overture, you cannot fail to feel giddy. It is like the great joy of watching Tom and Jerry making sword-play with conductor’s batons. Farce is part of the beauty of life.

Naturally, the music that opened the demolition derby in Prince William County (which someone told me is the largest demolition derby in Virginia), was the American National Anthem, sung by the Miss Congeniality of the Pageant, complete with her sash. We all stood. Most put their hands on their hearts. She belted it out very nicely indeed and I felt the power of that place and that crowd and the spirit of American patriotism. Damn right this is the land of the free. Long may it remain so.

For the derby itself, no music was needed. Under the beautiful spacious sky, the only accompaniment we required was the smell of the gasoline and the roar of the crowd. Before the cars started, the volunteer firefighters got into their fireproof clothing and laid out their car cutters and extinguishers. The bleachers had been filling up for half-an-hour. Many of the attendees were carrying what looked like half-gallon containers of Pepsi and pints of lemonade.

They were as attentive and well-behaved as a theatre crowd. More so, in fact, because they only cheered and applauded the really worthwhile smash, not like those villains in the modern theatre stalls who give every mediocre performance from a television star a standing ovation. They ought to come down to a derby and see how a real audience behaves. These people were waiting for the really good stuff before they cheered.

The mood of the country often seems rather dour and anxious in the newspapers. Here were the Americans who know how to have a good time. If one driver bent another’s front wheel, boy did the crowd make him feel like a king. And quite right too. It’s a muddy and narrow arena. You have to time that hit quite carefully.

During the round for young drivers (so young they have to have their father with them in the car: it was funny watching the dads jabbing their fingers, hurrying their boys to make a hit), the crowd gave them every bit of enthusiasm they gave to the others. And well deserved too. Those lads made some great strikes.

Eight drivers entered the last round. There were smashed bonnets, lost bumpers. Tires came off. Suspension springs were pronging out of the open backs of cars. Flames came out of the exhaust pipe that sticks up out of the engine. At one point, after a particularly good smash, a bonnet bumped open as a cloud of steam came billowing out of an engine. And on a beautiful warm summer evening, the air was full of the hot smell of gasoline and burning engine.

It would be easy to see this as crass, aggressive, part of the culture that serves to encourage the worst traits of this country. Certainly it is noisy and smelly. What I saw was organized sport: red flags, judicious oversight, warnings of penalties for dangerous hits, and a crowd that wanted to see a really well-targeted whack on the front axle or a sharp bit of reversing to throw the other fellow off track.

I was going to make a joke about how apt a contest like this is, given the state of American driving. But why joke? I wouldn’t be brave enough to take part.

As the defeated cars were carried off by fork-lifts, the gentle crowd applauded the tournament fighters. Decency accompanied the danger and aggression. It might have elements of farce and vulgarity, but the demolition derby is a part of what makes America civilized. I shall go again.