Just about everyone likes to see stuff get crushed.
And if that’s you, then you were in the right place if you ventured to the State Farm Arena over the weekend.
Enthusiastic fans of destruction visited three jarringly loud events of the Hot Wheels Monster Truck Glow Party. The street vendors outside selling $15 earmuffs were evidence of how loud it was going to get.
The arena Saturday afternoon was the land of small boys in ear protection waiting to be dazzled by cartoonishly large 12,000-pound trucks with 56-inch tires. The Monster Trucks did wheelies, burned rubber and squished Lilliputian sedans that were lined up and readied for their execution.
“The cars are all locally sourced from junk yards,” explained arena worker Stefan De La Guardia.
The trucks bear apex predator names like Bone Shaker, Tiger Shark and Bigfoot and made repeated passings over junk vehicles. The trucks bounce into the air, appearing like they’ll tip over, and then slam down on the cars, sending chrome, glass and auto parts across the arena’s concrete.
Credit: HYOSUB SHIN / AJC
Credit: HYOSUB SHIN / AJC
The only question about the victimized cars, after several passings atop by the Monster Trucks, was how flat they could get them.
Well, pretty flat.
Then, in case the crowd was getting bored, a behemoth that looked like a World War I tank rolled out. The front hatch opened and a dinosaur head with massive hydraulic arms picked up a hapless jalopy and then started crushing and chewing it. Of course, the monstrous device breathed fire.
The event was a bounty of fog, music, flashing lights, noise and metallic violence. It was a rave, a circus and demolition derby all wrapped into one.
As the Really Big Trucks smashed over cars, a Elvis-like announcer in a white jumpsuit bedecked with twinkling lights repeatedly announced the “score.”
How the “score” these runs was a mystery. But the uninitiated to, say, figure skating might say the same thing.
Out in the concourse a few parents with young kids took a break from the cacophony.
Credit: HYOSUB SHIN / AJC
Credit: HYOSUB SHIN / AJC
William McKowski and son Jack, 5, stepped out because “the noise is a bit much,” dad said. But they were set to return because, as McKowski explained, “everyone likes to see things get smashed.”
Barely half hour into the show, Malcomb Johnson carried Christian, age 3, as the boy buried his very unhappy face into dad’s shoulder.
“We’re going home; it’s too loud for him,” said Johnson, who wore the sad expression of a man who paid $120 to unwittingly scare a young lad.
Tyler Gardner said his son, Wells, 4, was excited to come to see the bigger-than-life versions of his toys come to life.
“You have a generation of guys who played with Hot Wheels and now this is the next generation,” said the 38-year-father.
So far, what do you think? I asked the boy.
Credit: HYOSUB SHIN / AJC
Credit: HYOSUB SHIN / AJC
“I like the noise,” said Wells, who was set to put on his earmuffs and return to the vortex.
Minutes later, they were in the lobby eyeing the long lines at the merch kiosk where child-size Hot Wheels shirts were $35.
Danny Payne was taking a break outside with 5-year-old son, Max. The tickets were a Christmas present and Payne liked that the show was at the smaller State Farm venue. It was better to view the action. And, one supposes, hear it.
At that point, Payne’s wife, Michelle, walked up and asked, “Did he tell you he fell asleep?”
“We didn’t know we’d have to come this far for Max to take a nap,” she added.
Everyone absorbs their entertainment differently.
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