…Apart From Politics II
It is the world of the imagination in which the imaginative man/woman delights and not the gaunt world of reason. The pleasure is the pleasure of powers that create a truth that cannot be arrived at by the reason alone, a truth that the poet recognizes by sensation. The morality of the poet’s radiant and productive atmosphere is the morality of the right sensation.
— excerpt, essay, The Figure of the Youth as Virile Poet p. 58 by Wallace Stevens
The photos were taken yesterday at Great Lakes Drag-a-Way in Union Grove, Wisconsin. The visit to 
the track was an unexpected “gift,” the result of an old friend’s expressed desire to keep company with me, traveling from his home in Michigan. How could I refuse?! Drag racing is a celebration of the more 
esoteric, literally passing moments of life. The challenge is to design and construct an engine, and a car, that will travel a quarter mile, in the quickest possible time, given the laws of physics. The race cars are poetic constructions of a single purpose. They are a joint effort, often of family members. We had extended conversations with several of the 
owners/builders/drivers of these cars. I remember a statement made to me,– “after all, I will not be remembered, but this car will be remembered a long time by many people.”
It was a hot summer day, with a slightly cooling breeze, and a lyrically blue sky. One of the photo’s captures the 
drama of the starting line, where the crew chief meticulously positions the race car and makes sure everything is adjusted and safe. The moment of truth is the application of one thousand plus horsepower. Does not the beginning of a thing, determine the quality of the 
outcome?
The final photo is of my friend of many years, Rick, a retired paramedic-firefighter. Rick is on the right. The owner-builder of the Chinto, Chevy-powered Pinto spoke of the overwhelming 
focus on “doing well,” at the starting line launch, that crowds out all fear and concern for bodily well-being. He and Rick were in agreement concerning the fear/adrenaline rush at conclusion of a successful quarter mile pass, is no different than the end of battling a hot fire.
Indeed, “the morality of the right sensation…..”
