You can cry foul about how burnouts are wasteful, and pointless, and stupid all you damn well please. Where I’m concerned, your opinions and complaints fall upon deaf ears. You want to know what’s wasteful? Balling up a car on a wall, yes. But having a car that does nothing but sit and look pretty…that’s wasteful. Refusing to drive a car for fear of hurting a financial value. Owning a killer bit of automotive work but not enjoying it past being an art decoration. That’s more wasteful than going out and raising a little hell, don’t you think? If you don’t want to take a car to the limits of it’s potential, go find a nice used mid-2000s small sedan, it’ll get you where you need to go. If you want to be around valuable cars that are given the white glove treatment and are cared for more than some family members, go enjoy Pebble Beach or Amelia Island and send us some pictures of your time there. I wasn’t raised like that. I was the kid that was throwing his bicycle down a nearly one-mile hill at breakneck speed before kicking back on the brakes and dragging the rear tire around. I’m the kid who was drifting the three-wheeler around until we had enough loose surface sod to plant a garden in. And yes, I’m the kid who was re-striping the roadway everywhere he went once the license was in my hand. I enjoy the violence of it all. I enjoy the noise, the smoke, the unabashed anger of an engine screaming to the heavens for all to hear. It’s why I gravitate to Australian-style burnouts…I’ve seen stuff like this happen in the woods of Washington, where nobody but a few close friends got to enjoy the drama and the spectacle. I want to see it in person, in a place where it’s a way of life, not just a circus sideshow attraction.

Support violent driving.