On Becoming a Car Girl

On Becoming a "Car Girl"

This past week I participated in my very first car show. Other than the temperature being crazy hot, I loved it. Mike and I had fun. Mike is a fan of classic cars. We drove to the show in his 1969 Chevelle SS 396. It looks exactly like the first car he owned as a kid.

 

The town where we live has an official town square. "Picturesque" is how most people would describe it. The old courthouse is the centerpiece of the square with streets radiating out like spokes on a wheel. The entire area is blocked off for the monthly car show. People come from miles around to participate.

 

“So what do you do at a car show?” I asked. 

“Walk around and look at the cars,” he said.

 

Hmmm…I wasn’t too sure this would be my cup of tea, but Mike likes it and I was open to learn more. We drove the short distance from our house to the town square in his Chevelle with the windows rolled down and “oldies” playing on the radio. 

 

Once we arrived, Mike propped up the hood of his muscle car for other car enthusiasts to view. I slipped the laminated “window sticker” onto the dash in the front window. 

Mike's Chevelle

By the way, the manufacturers suggested retail price in 1969 for that vehicle wouldn’t buy you a good Trek Mountain Bicycle today.

 

I digress.

 

We were set up, so we left the car. Seriously? Yep, we left. Windows down and all. 

We walked over to Stumpknockers. It's one of our favorite restaurants. We had a great dinner and shared a piece of Key Lime Pie. It felt a bit like a high school date. Except of course, this time I was on a date with my husband and we weren’t scraping together enough change to split a hamburger.

 

We didn't eat at Mel's Diner
(from the movie American Graffiti)
Stumpknockers is our favorite. 

 

After dinner we did our share of walking around and looking at an array of automobiles. It was fun to talk with other car enthusiasts. I took pictures for my oldest grandson, another “car guy” while Mike talked with someone he knew from other shows. 

 

I discovered not all the car guys…and girls…were our age. Some were older, yes, but many were quite a bit younger. 

 

I’ve decided there is some sort of “motor gene” a few special people are born with that makes them love the smell of gas and oil, the feel of polished metal, and the look of a nice set of Cragar wheels.

Here are a few pics...

'61 Corvette
And Yep, That's
Our Favorite Restaurant
in the Background

'57 Chevy

And a Shiny Barracuda