Skip to main content

Emerald City Antique Days Car Show

Frankly, if you've seen one car show you've seen them all.  They are the same cars that travel from town to town in search of new hardware to put on their mantel or in a box sitting out in the garage. Things have changed little since I started doing them back when I had a sweet '62 Plymouth Belvedere.  I had given up golf for a lawn chair in the park.  I added more cars, then sold them when it looked like Kitschland was going to be my new home.  But Kitschland never gelled so I got another old car for visits up North.  There will be no more cars other than the one I have.  This event, the Aledo Antique Days Car Show is an obvious must-go and there are always a lot of nice cars to see.   And, of course, by virtue of its being kind of a hometown show, attendance is required.   













She is a somewhat rare 4-door Dodge Custom 800.  It was pretty much turnkey.  Unlike my other cars I have not done a thing to her.  This is the way she was sitting outside a rural farm when the guy I bought it from, a dealer, saw it.  Although it may be rare, it will never have much value.  It is a 4 door family car.  Those are just about the lowest on the value tree.  But that's OK, I didn't buy it as an investment anyway.  And she certainly gets her stares and appreciation from onlookers.  Not many trophies come her way but that's OK, she's a winner in my book, and I always vote for her anyway.







It's tough being small town troubadours.  You've still got to put your heart into every song even though the crowd may be sparse. 




Happily, the crowd got bigger as the day progressed.




For my money the late 60's Camaro was the best looking sports car ever made.

Best of the Rest












And we finish where we started.  Miss Frump.  1963 Dodge Custom 880.  She was the only one there just like it.  She always is. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Summer Swim

It's Monday and the start of another work week.  Except for me.  I have the week off because the parents of my daycare charges are taking the week off, too. This is one of those wordless posts I love on Mondays so I can put my laziness in full view of loyal readers.  These pics need no words.  Why muddy the waters?   They were taken at the pool at Sinkhole Estates aka Death Valley.  The nice thing about this pool is it is heated in winter.  If one must find positives in one's situation, I suppose that is one.  But, please, no more.   

Flashback Friday

Class, Or Lack Thereof The Dwight Vice gravestone in Oquawka, Illinois. I bring this old chestnut out every so often just to remind me that class is classless.  Dwight Vice was killed in his home near Oquawka in 2001.  It was one of those things that can generate crime:  two guys thought Dwight had a lot of money stashed at home because of his pot-selling sideline to supplement his fishing job.   Not really one of those big drug deals gone-bad things.  Marijuana was, according to the trial, about the only stuff Dwight sold.   But these two guys barge into the house and killed Dwight and attempted to kill his 11 year old kid, Darryl, before they took off with what money they could find.   His son, now 23, was stabbed in the back and left for dead.  He survived and is wheelchair bound and has undergone several surgeries to repair his wounds.  He will be paralyzed for life.   None of this is pleasant.  Reading the facts of the murder and attempted murder are most unpleasant