I’ve found myself in some pretty surreal car culture moments over the years, but every once in a while, there’s one that forces you to stop and actually take it all in. Hanging out of the back of a Nissan Serena in Tokyo while shooting Lewis Hamilton driving a Ferrari F40 through the city was one of those moments. It didn’t feel real. Another one just happened, and honestly, it might top everything.
I was standing on top of a golf cart on the roof of a parking structure in Long Beach. Type S Night Lights 2026 had officially started 15 minutes earlier, but it was already completely out of control. There were so many people packed onto the roof that I swear I could feel the structure moving under my feet. I couldn’t even see the concrete anymore, just a sea of people. I grabbed a few shots of that exact moment, and then it hit me. For once, there were way, way, way too many people. Panic set in.
2026 marks my fifth year hosting meets with Type S, and I’ve always believed in what they represent. What was cool two decades ago is somehow cool again. Back when The Fast and the Furious hit in 2001, underglow exploded overnight. Everyone wanted neon lights under their cars, but the tech was crude, and the trend faded fast. It became something people looked down on. If you had underglow, it was labeled as tacky.
But now it’s come full circle. The technology has caught up, and the aesthetic has matured. You can build something clean and tasteful, and still run ‘street glow’ as the finishing touch. I’ve always liked it because it adds another dimension to enjoying your car. At the end of the day, it’s supposed to be fun.
That was the whole idea behind Night Lights. We wanted to create a space where people could bring their cars out at night and lean into that underground meet energy without any pressure.
The early meetings were small and manageable. We had a police helicopter show up at one of the first ones, which felt like a big deal at the time. But year after year, they kept growing. The turning point was the meet we hosted during the Formula Drift season opener at the Queen Mary in Long Beach. I think my favorite comment from that event was someone asking how we managed to get the Titanic to show up at a car meet…
Exactly one year later, we came back even bigger. This time, I co-hosted with Sung Kang, who is about as naturally in tune with car culture as it gets. Sung helped promote the event, and in return, we got to sit down and talk about his film Drifter. To kick things off, we put together a small cruise with a handful of Southern California 240Zs. We shot the announcement video at the exact location where the event would take place. Even that night felt different. You could tell something bigger was coming.
We announced the event early, almost two months out, and things quickly started to get out of hand. Within a few weeks, we were already past 100,000 shares across my posts alone. That’s when I stopped promoting it altogether. I knew it was going to be huge, but I didn’t fully understand what that actually meant yet.
The week of the event was chaos. Between Formula Drift and Long Beach Grand Prix media day, everything was stacked back-to-back. Type S Night Lights landed on Thursday, right before Formula Drift Round 1 qualifying. As the day got closer, my Instagram feed turned into a constant stream of people prepping for the meet. Washing cars, finishing last-minute mods, and even announcing road trips to the event. That’s when it really hit me how far this had reached.
The morning of the event, I got a call from Formula Drift staff telling me people were already lining up at 7:30am for a 6:00pm start. That alone is insane. Then I heard some people had tried to stage cars the night before.
When I got to Long Beach around 11:30am, I jumped straight into helping load in cars with the Formula Drift and PASMAG teams. The original plan was to return to the Queen Mary lot, but construction shut that down. Instead, we moved to the parking structure across from the Aquarium of the Pacific. The upside was that the location made something I had always wanted to see happen again possible: Real drifting in that part of the city.
Years ago, I remembered watching Formula Drift cars do demo runs right by the dolphin fountain near Bubba Gump Shrimp Company, which is part of the Grand Prix circuit. That moment stuck with me. So I pitched the idea to the city, and somehow, they approved it.
The plan was simple: Three drift demos, with a finale where all the cars would run together in one long train. We never even got close to that, as there were just too many people. They were packed onto every level of the structure, hanging off the edges and climbing onto parts of the building they definitely shouldn’t have been on.
By around 8:30pm, the city shut the event down. We were supposed to run until 10:00pm, but there was no way it could continue safely. Even after the shutdown, it took over two hours to clear everyone out. As frustrating as that was in the moment, it was the right call.
The City of Long Beach has always been incredibly supportive of car culture, and honestly, it shows. Between multiple rounds of Formula Drift and events like the Grand Prix, this place really feels like the home of Southern California car culture.
The city estimated over 25,000 people showed up, but I think there were even more. Every structure in downtown was full, and the streets were packed. If you were there, you felt it. If you got stuck trying to leave for hours, I’m sorry. But at the same time, it says something important: Car culture isn’t just alive, it’s thriving.
It’s now to the point where we need to rethink how we do these events moving forward. Bigger doesn’t always mean better if it comes at the cost of safety. This was a learning experience, no question, and one that will shape how we approach the next event. Yes, there will be a next one – hopefully, just a little less chaotic.
Huge thanks to Type S, Pennzoil, Toyota Gazoo Racing, ST Suspension, Formula Drift, Sung Kang, and of course, the City of Long Beach for making something like this even possible.
