An event of this scale just makes one feel…insignificant.
Things my friend/photographer James and I saw at the Woodward Dream Cruise August 16:
1) Ten Chevy SSRs. That’s all of them they sold, I think.
2) More Smart fortwos than you can shake a stick at. Just don’t shake too hard, lest you blow them off the road.
3) Dozens of dogs thrilled to be riding around in convertibles all day.
4) A handful of angry people in regular cars who just wanted to get somewhere on Woodward, goddamn it, so could everyone please just hit the gas?!
5) This stuff:
“We don’t need no steenking badges…but we brought a few extras along anyway. You know, just in case.”
It stands out a little now, but just wait until they come to one of those zebra crossings the British keep talking about. Then we’ll see who’s laughing.
Wow. I didn’t even know they sold cars at Pier One Imports.
I’m glad they labeled it — my other guesses as to its identity included hamster habitat, factory-second clown car and Tonka toy on steroids.
From everything that wa’s wrong with the Soviet bloc to everything that’s…well, not exactly right about the decadence of the West, but everything that’s pretty awesome in a bittersweet way. Awesome because of they way they gleamed stainlessly in the perfect sunlight, saluting the passing traffic with their upraised doors. Bittersweet because not one of these DMC masterpieces was outfitted with a flux capacitor. If I had one of these babies, there’d be no force on Earth that could stop me from pimping my ride with 1.21 Jigawatts of magic.
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