We live our lives as the unique, “one-off” human being that we are.  There has never been, and there will never be another you.  You and I are the summation of a long intersection of confluences, lost in the recesses of historical time of your ancestors.  We are also the result of coincidences, that of our parents, and of the people we have known through the arc of our own life time.  It is a mystical moment to recognize that unaccountably — we are here, now.

It is in that spirit that I present a few additional photos taken at the race track.  I feel sadness as I am certain that drag racing as the activity I have known is passing.  Indeed the passing is a part of a larger transition in the course of our country and world.  The industrial age, the age of fire and steel, of building cities of steel and concrete, roads of asphalt, the era of full employment at an adequate wage is passing, as definitely as a setting sun.  We are on the cusp of an age of global warming, of increasing climate severity and weather unpredictability, agricultural stress.  Parallel to the distress of Nature is social distress; wide spread under-employment, the demise of mechanical solutions in favor of complex computerization, which has dramatically transformed communication, and is revolutionizing transportation in particular.  There’s seldom any need to work on your vehicle, as it is now a computerized platform, with systems too complex to understand without a computer aided diagnostic.

I remember my first visit to a drag strip.  As our vehicle was quite close to the gate I could hear that primeval roar, the voice of a big block race motor heating the tires on the burnout pad, making clouds of burnt rubber smoke.  The sound rolled through the pine forest surrounding the track, and I felt a thrill of mystery.  It was raw, dangerous, primal, ancient, as ancient as the forest.  Many years later remembering that sound, in my imagination, I heard my name called………

Drag racing is the apotheosis of the age of fire and steel.  The sound of maximum horse power, generated by “Detroit Iron” will not be heard for many years longer.  My generation is passing, and the next will be very different.

I also offer for your contemplation a dirge-like rock tune, Hymn To Her by the Pretenders.  There is something emotionally right about this tune and the photos presented.  The lyrics are appended after the youtube video.

Hymn To Her
By The Pretenders

Let me inside you
Into your room
I’ve heard it’s lined
With the things you don’t show
Lay me beside you
Down on the floor
I’ve been your lover
From the womb to the tomb
I dress as your daughter
When the moon becomes round
You be my mother
When everything’s gone

And she will always carry on
Something is lost
But something is found
They will keep on speaking her name
Somethings change
Some stay the same

Keep beckoning to me
From behind that closed door
The maid and the mother
And the crone that’s grown old

I hear your voice
Coming out of that hole
I listen to you
And I want some more
I listen to you
And I want some more

And she will always carry on
Something is lost
But something is found
They will keep on speaking her name
Some things change
Some stay the same