For the past three years, I’ve been taking my son to the Chicago Auto Show.

I felt obligated to do it because my dad used to take me to the auto show back in the 1960s. It was kind of a tradition, I guess. The truth is I haven’t really enjoyed the Auto Show since I used to go with my dad.

Once I started going on my own, I realized how costly it was to attend, and while there were many cars to view, I could see the same cars in a parking lot at an expensive downtown resort.

Why pay so much for so little?

Well, traditions trump money and I didn’t let the costly ticket, the expensive and tasteless food and tiring walk to collect plastic bags deter me from allowing my son to experience the memories I remember.

But this year, he had a different idea.

It seems that he loves to watch the Monster Truck Jam shows on TV. Monster Trucks are these giant trucks that are lifted high into the air, fitted with enormous wheels and stripped of their mufflers. They’re loud. They are exciting. And my son loves them.

It was his idea to dump the Auto Show at McCormick Place and go to the Monster Truck Jam at the AllState Arena in Rosemont instead.

Man, I wish my dad had the same choice when I was a kid.

Pictured: Aaron Hanania (on the right) and his older brother-in-law Jay Downey (on the left).

While we always spend our time wandering aimlessly through the hundreds of cars parked at the Auto Show collecting plastic bags and junk, bored and forced to pay enormous prices for lousy hotdogs and expensive fudge, the Monster Truck Jam was two solid hours of excitement.

Loud excitement.

My son knew all the names of the different competing trucks, like Grave Digger – apparently the crowd favorite – Superman, Batman and Pastrano’s #199, which was driven by a woman with long blond hair whose brother apparently is big in the dirt bike competitions, too.

What do I know anyway?

These trucks, about a dozen of them, spun around in the dirt, jumped over obstacles of old beaters, mounds, and piles of scrap metal, flew in the air causing the audience to scream with excitement.

Now, I am no NASCAR fan and I don’t sit on the side of the road counting the frogs as they hop past, chewing on a long alfalfa leaf. I don’t spit, curse much nor do I excessively wave the American flag pretending that I am patriotic. (I am patriotic and I don’t need to wave the flag to prove it.) And, I don’t proudly display the Confederate Flag, although I do like to listen to the Dixie Chicks.

But Monster Truck Jam was so much more thrilling than the boring, routine, same-old, same-old Chicago Auto Show. The food at the Monster Truck Jam was even better than the Auto Show.

And we didn’t have to sell an arm or a leg to pay for some of the souvenirs that my son took home, a program book that cost $10, a banner for his wall and ear muffs made out of tires that he says he wants to use the next time we come to the Monster Truck Jam.

Now, my son is only 6 and very computer literate. He had me set his "Home Page" to "MonsterJamOnline.com" so he could view the pictures of the different shows that tour around the country.

I suggest you check it out.

And maybe the same-old, same-old people who organize the boring, uneventful "hey we have new cars and you don’t" Chicago Auto Show, might want to revisit the whole concept of what a big show is all about.

Standing and looking at a parked new Jaguar in an open convention hall is not my idea of fun, anymore, of a good time. The "test run" where you can drive a new car slowly around a "safari" path, is not my idea of fun anymore either.

In fact, that I can thumb my nose at the lousy food they serve at the Chicago Auto Show makes me feel great.

It was easier to get to the AllState Arena in Rosemont than it is to get to McCormick Place. It cost less to park there than at McCormick Place.

When it is all said and done, my son, who is far more objective than I am on what is and what isn’t exiting to watch, gave the Monster Truck Jam "two thumbs up."

And when I asked him if he wanted to still try to get to the Chicago Auto Show’s final day, the next day, he looked at me and asked, "Why would we do that?"

Good point, kid.

Why? Indeed.