Gravedigger, The Patriot, Blue Thunder, Escalade, Tropical Thunder, Ninja Turtle. Despite his proper upbringing it seems my eldest has an affinity for monster trucks. As such, I did my motherly duty and took him to the monster truck rally as it rolled into town. These were the big guns. The ones who have actually earned their right to have a Hot Wheels car crafted in their image. I know because Matthew spent his hard earned money at Walmart to have one of his very own.
Being that I have never frequented a monster anything, I was a little unsure what to expect but had some mind visuals of what to find. Thankfully I must say that we caught the afternoon show which seemed have a little more of a family flair than anticipated. That being said I was more than a little nervous about the lyrics coming from the heavy metal band that greeted us upon arrival. We got past the Guns N Roses wannbes and found our way to our shaded seats (sometimes the cheap seats pay off) which would be home for the next two hours as we witnessed feats from the Redneck world.
The initial roar of the opening ceremony prompted us to locate ear plugs which we wore continuously. A dust mask would have been helpful as I witnessed America at it's finest.
Due to the shifting of afternoon sun, we had to relocate seats a few times and the biggest bummer came when I completely missed Gravedigger's championship performance in the freestyle competition because I was busy cleaning the dust off our new seats with a baby wipe. I'm fairly confident that I was the only one concerned with the cleanliness of my pants and that obession cost me the whole reason for coming. Maybe I can catch him the next time he rolls through town. If nothing else, I made my four year old happy and in the end, that's all that really counts.
Long live Gravedigger.
