Demolition Derby

I wanted to write a short note and wish you a final farewell, for Saturday is the Utah County Fair Demolition Derby in Spanish Fork. If I am killed, may this note serve as a memory of my existence. ---------- It was 1969. Richard Nixon was president, turmoil is brewing in Vietnam and Neil Armstrong takes the first steps on the Moon in the Apollo 11 mission (July 20^th). The New York Mets defeat the Baltimore Orioles in an unprecedented victory and one of the greatest baseball upsets of all time. Ford was producing millions of cars, including the Falcon, Fairlane, Torino, Ranchero, Pickup, LTD, Thunderbird, Mustang, and Galaxie.

I will be driving one of those Galaxies.

A 1969 Galaxie 500 Sports Roof. 1 of 217 made. The car began its life with a woman named Norma Anderson who purchased the car brand new in 1969 at a Ford/Mercury dealer in Ft. Collins, Colorado. The car was garage kept and driven every day for 30 years. Gentle care kept the car in showroom condition until the transmission failed with about 75,000 miles on it, she then gave the car to her grandson who now resides in Nephi, UT. He repaired the transmission and drove it for several years before an electrical issue caused the interior of the car to be burned to a crisp… it was more or less a total loss. It sat in his backyard until my neighbor in Spanish Fork sourced the car to participate in a demolition derby for a scene in an (apparently) upcoming LDS film. The car was half prepared for a derby so that it would look like a derby car, but didn’t actually function as one. The plan was to get a couple great wrecks on film, then trash the car. As luck would have it, the first hit in the scene caused a small part to fail in the engine would rendered the car useless. The car was towed back to the pit area and put back on the trailer where it would later be towed to a gravel pit and blown up in a last ditch effort to salvage some production value. After it was burned to a crisp (again), I happen to be driving by when my neighbor was unloading the car at his house, and I offered to buy it for $150. After tearing the engine down, it turns out all it needed was a timing chain for $27. The derby will be a fitting end for this old girl. She lived a glorious life and will go out in another blaze of glory (preferably without me inside of the car). It took three months to prepare, tireless welding, cutting, hammering and engine tuning.

I plan to destroy her in about 6 minutes.

This is my second derby. In 2009 I ran a 1988 Chrysler Fifth Avenue. The car was given to me by a woman who won the car in a divorce settlement. The car was her husband’s and she wanted to see it destroyed, despite having only 65,000 original miles and in mint condition. She attended the derby, filmed the entire thing (she thanked me graciously afterwards). Later on the that heat, my car caught on fire due to a pinched fuel line. To this day, I am the only one who has ever caught fire in the history of the Utah County Fair Derby. I was on the front page of the Spanish Fork press, the entry form for the next year’s derby and an instant celebrity around town. I had people from all walks sending facebook friends requests, emails and phone calls. “Were you the guy that caught on fire?!” It was true euphoria for me… total star power. Because of that, and because of my dangerous, risk-taking lifestyle, I was drawn to the derby again this year with my 69’ Galaxie 500, dubbed: “Proud Mary”.

LONG LIVE DEMOLITION DERBY!

-Serrated

Cancer

I was having a conversation with a colleague and he said something profound. It's caused me to research and reevaluate my stance on the whole brain tumor/cell phone thing. He said, "Perception is 90% of reality, isn't it?" while referring to Cigarettes. Tobacco products are perceived as "bad", right? It's continually beaten into our heads from a young age that they will give us cancer and all manner of other health ailments. The majority of lung cancer related deaths are in people from ages 65-74. I think it's safe to assume that most people start smoking at a young age... perhaps 18-20. Logical deduction concludes that it takes 30 or 40 years of smoking to contract lung cancer.

That begs the question.... What will 30 or 40 years of compulsive cell phone use do to our brains?

It's impossible to say at this point. Cell phones have only been around in the mainstream for 10 or 15 years and there's compelling evidence to indicate that cell phone use does increase the chances of a brain tumor.

Scary huh?

Just a quick note to think about.

-Serrated

RE: My Thoughts on the Think Tank

This is a reply to October 29th's installment. I'm writing about this again because I've conjured great joy in this achievement today. It was a victory for all men everywhere, except for one person, the man in the adjacent stall.

Let's rewind the clocks to 8:31am Mountain Time, April 1, 2011...

I walked into the restroom and proceeded to my favorite stall at the end of the room. There are obvious advantages of said handicapped stall such as, lots of room to move about, the handles on the wall to assist the standing up of the body, and the considerably larger bowl. However, there is one critical flaw. This stall has a door that opens outward, unlike the others which open inward. The inward opening stalls are easy to identify when they are in use. The door is shut. When they aren't in use, the door is slightly cracked, making it a simple task to identify an empty stall. On the flip-side, my favorite stall's door opens outward to accommodate those who may use alternative means of locomotion. Because of this, when the stall is empty, the door swings shut giving the illusion that it may or may not be in use. It's a gamble. Today, I took the gamble as I do most every day. Fate was not on my side, because as I put my hand on the lever to open the door, I was denied. The door was locked. A deep sinking feeling became my stomach. I was presented with several options at this point... do I leave the restroom and come back later? Should I select another stall to use? Decisions, decisions. I kindly responded with "Sorry..." My attempt to open his stall door must have been startling! Little did he know, the only thing I apologized for was the sequence of events that were about to unfold........

It was war.

I went into the adjacent stall. From past experiences, I've learned that other people in the bathroom refuse to make noise, resulting in awkward silence, thus forcing me to make the first noise. Today, it wasn't going to happen. I was armed with my new Droid phone equipped with Angry Birds. I whipped out the phone and played Angry Birds for what seemed like 5-10 minutes with absolutely no noise coming from the adjacent stall. I'd stay there all day if I had to. I wasn't going to loose this time. After the 20 or 30th level of Angry Birds, the man in the adjacent stall relented. I heard the unmistakable sound of the toilet paper roll spinning in the dispenser.

Victory!

There is no amount of propaganda, intimidation or demoralizing that can get the best of me. The handicapped stall is MINE and when faced with being forced to use the crappier stall (pun intended), I will fight with vigor, perseverance and determination. YOU WILL be the first to flush and leave. There WILL be peace in the men's restroom weather you like it or not! And so it shall be, amen.

-Serrated