This Saturday, January 16, we headed west to our old 'hood, for the Monster Jam truck show at Anaheim Stadium, home of the Angels baseball team. It's ironic, how we used to live within literal walking distance (albeit a good walk) from the stadium, how we used to look out our front windows to see the fireworks display any time the Angels had a home win. Now, we have to pack up the car and drive an hour to get here. Oh well. I won't even go into the irony of who I used to be, back when I was a single girl and considered myself to be slumming it, when I attended a couple of similar truck shows here in the very early '90s.
That was a very long time ago, another life ago. Now, I have a Monkey Boy, and boy, does he love him some big trucks. It's really about as simple as that.
As for me, I am a stone-cold sucker for the sight and the mood of bright stadium lights at dusk. Must be all my old concert days. All I needed were the smells of spilled beer, pot and falafel, and I could pretend I was back at a Dead show.
No rock concert tonight. Just a lot of great big trucks, racing around in the dirt, catching lots of air. Lot of families, lots of dads with their little guys. Median age of the most devoted fan base has to be, oh, about 7 years old.
A whole lotta this: big trucks, catching air. Just like at a concert, they save the sure-fire crowd pleaser until the very last: Grave Digger! And the crowd goes wild!
And, just like at a concert, it was really, really LOUD.
Just ask him.
No comments :
Post a Comment
Thanks for commenting! :)