quiet ramblings

the quiet ramblings of a construction worker: pump your fist and resist...

Monday, March 21

pump your fist and resist...


Pinewood Derby Cars
Image by Robert Goodwin via Flickr


Redemption has been a long time and running.  There is no excuses for last place, ever!  The embarrassment I speak of is a pinewood derby race.  I've been helping my wife's cousin prepare for the pinewood derby, last year we had some scheduling issues, and let's just say it did not go well.  It also doesn't help that current cub scout politics are modeled after the girl scout organization.

Talk about red tape.  They've got this race so locked up these days, either there is an underground conspiracy or it has been determined that critical thinking/engineering skills are no longer important in the Cub Scouts of America.  You have to turn in your car three days before the race, you can't touch it from then til after the race, no tweaking, no adjustments, no scientific process, and no trial and error.  My only question--Cub Scouts of what America?  This is a direct threat against the competitive nature, that drives social dynamics in our country.

When I was a cub scout, we started sanding, painting, sanding, painting, over and over weeks prior to the event.  We each made five cars.  Body style was where autonomy was permitted by Dad.  When it came to frictionless axles and wheels that could fly straight down the track, parental supervision was required.  Dad had us polish those axles with him for about an hour each.  We set up the track days in advance, and ran trials till the early AM.  In private my brother and I would plot strategies, to destroy other cars that might present a threat.  We couldn't just win, we had to make sure that there wasn't a shadow of doubt that we won.  We stayed up all night before the race, so that our eyes would be blood shot all day.  We dropped by the drama club before leaving school, so they could accent our jaw bones and make our eyes look deeper and more mysterious.  We showed up to the race like 2 vampires, unwilling to leave without drawing blood.  You better not be picturing that pasty guy from twilight.  We'd race our own car to the end of the track.  There was no timing, it was car vs. car.  Tourney style elimination.  We brought it.

At the end of the day victory was ours.  But like I said, times have changed, boys are supposed to be more interested in tea parties now, or something...

By the way bro, happy b-day...
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