I accompanied my dad cruising yesterday. I shan't complain that we spend about twice as much time as I'd have liked doing this, because I had my chance to object & chose to hold my tongue. I saw American muscle by the bushel, more Chevrolet Corvettes & Camaros, Pontiac Firebirds & G.T.O.s, Buick Grand Nationals & G.S.X.s, Ford Mustangs, & Dodge Chargers than you could shake a stick at. I also saw at least three Oldsmobile 442s (!), sating that particular jones. I saw several Shelby Cobras, a few M.G.s, a fleet of '57 Chevies (or is that Chevys?), & at least half a dozen Porsche Boxsters. (Back to the Bricks isn't really about Porches, but I don't begrudge their participation, yesterday was a fantastic day to be driving around in a convertible with the top down. Or in a T-top with the roof panels removed, as we did with Dad's Corvette.) In the very exotic category, I espied a Lamborghini at the Shell filling station at Hill & Saginaw; two Ferraris, a white Testarossa & a black something I could not identify as I caught only a fleeting glimpse of the chrome prancing horse; & an Aston Martin also glimpsed too briefly to make out the model. The Testarossa was not the black 'Rossa I followed earlier this summer (Wayback Machine). Dad & I saw it turn into the Grand Blanc Mall "Mega Site," where it parked & we were able to take a closer look. The flat twelve-cylinder engine was a bizarre sight to behold. I'm not a fan of Ferrari & the Testarossa isn't a particularly beautiful motor car, but it was an opportunity to look at something rare, something foreign, something radically different from the legion of American muscle cars.
Neither dad nor I are doing anything Bricks related to-day, as Saginaw Street should be an almost impassable zoo from mid-afternoon 'til dark. I plan to be in Flint bright & early to-morrow to check out the local rugby club while Dad will be parking his 'Vette in the ever-expanding Corvette Corral, which should allow me afterward to walk around the cars parked on the odd bricked section of Saginaw (thus the name Back to the Bricks) at my own pace & without his running narrative of the horsepower particulars of late-'60s automobile; denounce me as a dilettante, but I'm not interested in the cars' exteriors than their engines.
He's Dead, Jim
After three hours of crawling up & down South Saginaw Street from the southern reaches of Grand Blanc to the southern end of downtown Flint, I exited my father's Corvette with a mild headache & a profound sense of being unwell. The seatbelt is just barely big enough to secure my elephantine physique & the 'Vette vibrates more than I'd like, but I attribute this to the hours spend breathing in the noxious exhaust fumes of 1950s, '60s, & '70s automobiles, the lion's share of them V-8-engined muscle cars. It does not help that the Corvette is very low to the ground, putting us that much closer to all those exhaust pipes.
Note to self: No more cruising, not just this year but henceforth. If you want to see the cruising cars, grab a lawn chair, a parasol, & a cooler & stake out a spot on the side of the road. (I recommend the west side of Saginaw outside of the recently-shuttered Tank Plant, on that little hill just north of the railroad bridge & Center Road.)
The Rebel Black Dot State Song of the Day
Spike Jones & His Wacky Wakakians, "Hawaiian War Chant (Ta-Hu-Wa-Hu-Wai)" from The Spike Jones Anthology (T.L.A.M.)
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