Demolition derby is the adult version of bumper cars. It’s an occasion for those who know a lot about engines to bust their knuckles fixing last-minute fuel line issues only to smash into one another minutes later. The roar of these post-apocalyptic machines is accompanied by crowds of people cheering and eating popcorn. ‘Engine talk’ has always been a foreign language to me. Yet somehow I find myself leaning against a beat up ’97 Toyota Camry offering unsolicited advice about intake valves and head gaskets.
