Please excuse me, I can’t write this post with out some blaring jungle music as I’m now to angry in the middle of my chest, I need something loud and aggressive to open the steam vents in my ears.
Is it Jealousy that fuels this forgetfulness? It’s the only logic I can devise. Understanding is something I try my best to be, and to achieve this I try to think realistically of what it would be like to be in someone elses shoes, someone elses mind set. Why do they think this way, what makes them feel that emotion that strongly? Here I am, an elderly Quinn Howling, I’m in the late of my mid-prime breathing a youthful 65. I live in a city near a race track, having grown up a teen with hobbies, getting married, harvesting a family and working hard to make a great life for them. I’ve paid my dues, and although I bought a house near a race track, it’s still my home. I’m sure at some point I took my kids to see some races there, as I remember as a kid my buddy being into cars, having a fast cool machine and we had fun bombing around the back farm roads.
Wait, Do I remember this? Sure as hell I couldn’t forget. I mean, why else would I be okay with buying a house near a noisy race track? I must have been able to relate to the feeling those people have racing their cars, as I remember the feeling I had riding around with my friends, and the joy they had on their faces. I wasn’t much of a car guy, but they sure were and it made them ever so happy. This knowledge made it okay to faintly hear the rumble of engines and squealing of tires all day, as I knew how they felt.
I didn’t follow cars much as I grew older and wiser. Cars and I distanced apart as I was worried about graduations, weddings, babies, job reviews, Christmases, birthdays, sicknesses, school plays and so on. The car in my drive way? It transformed from my little coupe I drove in college and became something I thought was practical and helpful for my family. I wasn’t able to really spend much time with my thoughts otherwise.
It was stressful and as the years went, as my mind aged, as my body aged, I became more tired. Every morning I’d hear those cars, rumbling and screeching. An awful noise really, always interrupting my train of thought; pickup groceries, call my sister, renegotiate the mortgage, pave the driveway, catch my show at 8, make meals for tomorrow, and so on. Each day is very busy, I have no time to be distracted, and at the start and end of the days I’m so vulnerable, much easier annoyed.
Someone came round to my door asking to sign a petition to limit the track to certain hours. I figured that was fair as they still go to do their thing, and I got my peace in the morning and evening. Every few years someone would come by, and I kept signing these as it just always seemed louder, so it feels natural to move them closer to the middle of the day to run their cars.
Now I’m retired and it’s so loud during the afternoon, it seems like they are running 100 cars in a matter of a few hours, and the intensity is just overwhelming. Someone came by the other day with a petition to close the track, I really would like my own peace and quiet now, so sure I’ll sign, I mean who are these people anyways, why do they feel the need to do this stuff when they have so many other things to worry about?
Thank you to JackRabbitism for the photos and Randedge for the Documentary video.