From The North Liberty Leader
May 8, 1996
Impersonal Effects/Editorial Matters Male Bonding and the Pinewood Derby
By James D. Wolf, Jr.
There's nothing quite like a group of boys.
Sometime between two heats at the Cub Scouts' April 19 Pinewood Derby at Penn Elementary, someone at the head of the track made a rude noise at a quiet moment.
After the giggling stopped, the noise got passed down the lines on both sides of the track until it reached those at the finish line, who had no doubt heard it the first time.
It was not the kind of thing that happens at Girl Scout meetings.
Neither was the loud cheering, the photos of sports vehicles taped on the walls, nor the general overindulgence in free pop and popcorn. In short, it was an evening of testosterone in training - basic male bonding.
A few mothers were there to brave the tide, mostly acting as den leaders or working the concession stand, but the other females - the sisters and the classmates who definitely were NOT the scouts' girlfriends - chose to go outside to the playground, occasionally peeking in the windows.
Of course, at one point their absence was enforced by two boys holding the doors to the playground shut while the girls tried to open them from the other side.
The boys started preparing for this evening around last Christmas when Santa handed them a block of pine at a scout meeting. The pine was about the length and width of an ear of corn and had slots in the bottom for the plastic-wheel and wood axle constructions.
Using a pocketknife, they were supposed to whittle it into a roughly car-like shape. Then they were to add sufficient weight (usually by implanting fishing weights into the wood) to make it heavy enough to speed down the three-lane track but not enough weight to put the car over five ounces when it's weighed in.
This can be very confusing for most beginning scouts who have never seen a derby car before. Luckily, most fathers have. Most fathers also have all those power tools their sons have been buying for them for Father's Days and birthdays, so this works out well.
It also explains why one of the medals given away that night was for "Most Boy-Looking Built Car."
The awards were given out in three basic categories that night: local dignitaries acted as judges for car design, drawings were held for prizes, and, of course, somebody had to win the race. Based on luck, skill or artistic merit, almost everybody went home a winner.
But the race was still the big thing. About 50 cars went down the track three at a time, and when somebody's car was knocked out of contention, he immediately took up cheering for either a buddy's car or the car most likely to win against the car that beat his. After over two hours of this, boys were both tired and wound up.
This was not an insignificant event. The Pinewood Derby can be a very important social learning activity in some boys' lives. For some reason, the trophies, ribbons and cars from this night will follow them around for most of their lives - like favorite T-shirts and game-winning balls often do. And the general behavior will consistently resurface when they watch sporting events with their buddies. The Derby is one of the roots of all male behavior women don't seem to understand.
I know I still have my little bronze medal with the blue and gold ribbon tacked up on my bulletin board at home.
(This column is for Karen McMahan, a single mother who survived three boys and an unknown number of Pinewood Derbies without the benefit of power tools. Happy Mother's Day, Mom. Thanks also to Assistant Den Leader Nancy Becker for technical info and Julie, Vanessa and Laura, who've never heard of Pinewood Derbies).
Reprinted by permission of Hybrid Publications, Solon, Iowa.