A Car Show Without Harry

I went to the Rolling Sculpture Car Show on Friday, here in Ann Arbor.  

I thought, "This ought to be good.  I can compare how this show is to the annual St. Ignace Car Show.” 

Hands-down the Antique Car Show in St. Ignace was much better.

http://www.saintignace.org/event/st-ignace-car-show-weekend/

It’s not just the beautiful setting in St. Ignace, for the car show.  (which is right on Lake Huron, in downtown St. Ignace)  

It’s not just the fact that there are a hundred more cars. (which there are)

It’s not just the fact there is Clyde’s Drive-In Restaurant, in St. Ignace. (I love their bison-burgers)

I could go on.  It just wasn’t as enjoyable.  But, I did want to see the Ann Arbor Car I’d been hearing about.  There were only seven made in Ann Arbor and this one is in beautiful condition.  

I enjoyed taking pictures at the Car Show in Ann Arbor.  I looked for curves, color and design in the vehicles that made my heart race a bit. 

I don’t like old cars with modern-day colors.  It just doesn’t seem right to the artistic quality of an old, well-made car.

I did ask someone to please open and shut the car door for me once.  I wanted to hear the sound of the heavy door closing so perfectly.  A deep, heavy sound.  (I guess I must have looked thrilled because I was able to enjoy it a second time, too)

If I was to say any antique car had the ability to make me instantly break out in a smile,  it would have to be a Mustang.

Yes, the 1956 Corvette makes me smile, too.  But for a different reason.  My husband, Harry, loved the red and white, ’56 Corvette.  He would rattle off all the details of the Vet when he saw one at the St. Ignace Antique Car Show.  I have good memories of the time we spent together at the shows.  

I don’t remember any of the million facts Harry would tell me about all the old cars.  But, I do remember his enthusiasm when he’d share the facts.  I remember his passion for fast cars and big engines.  

So, I guess the car show in Ann Arbor didn’t have a chance, really.  No memories, no Harry.

Looking at them by myself I didn’t care what car manufacturer made them.  I didn’t care how fast they were able to go.  I didn’t even care how much they were worth.  I was simply inspired by them as pieces of art.