Steepleton had its first old time car show downtown today and I learned one thing I will never forget about old time car shows: the shows bring out the worst drivers for miles around. If the show pulled big enough crowds for the organizers to try and do it again next year I am either leaving town early or staying home. It was like driving in Sliverville on a summer Friday night in 1974 today - except I did not hear any Lynyrd Skynyrd howling from the car stereos of any of the cars doing burn outs and darting in and out of traffic all over town. I did smell a lot of Sweet Homegrown Alabama dope smoke rising from their open windows though.
Once the Hammer and I got away from the city everything slowed back down to the Steepleton pace I enjoy. The farmers' stands are not lined up with customers any more. Squash and early pumpkins are not the big sellers berries and early corn are. The spacious yards of the lumber re-manufacturers near the 49th parallel are just about empty now the Steelworkers' strike is gathering force and soon to be entering its fourth month.
My dog and I enjoyed our walk. There was no one around but us. I guess shopping with a par dollar in America and hanging out at a car show beats pulling a hockey sweater over your head and breathing in the last day of summer for most folks. I pulled my flask out of my back pocket, took a wollop and gave my dog a cookie.
When I got home with my winter vegetables and wine I poured myself a glass and put on the Stooges' newest record for the first time. I never did see a good review of the record but it kicked me in the gut like cask strength whisky. Do not forget the Stooges' first record back in '69 was not their best. Maybe their next one will kick us in the balls like Funhouse did.
Go buy the motherfucker. Music critics are assholes.