Auto Show Time Again

1952 Nash-Healy Roadster. Parts were shipped to England; the body was designed by Pino Farina.

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Himself: Had fun. He’d wanted to volunteer at the Midway but they train only during the week. “He still works,” he told them. Herself: Found places to sit. Met the Director of a museum who went to the same High School. Balance: Zicam works remarkably well. What it is giving me is balance in the middle of a virus. We will see if the surgeon agrees today.

Serendipity is enthusing over old cars and it turns out you are talking to the boss. Best of all, the boss turns out to have gone to the same High School.

Everyone has days like that once in a while.

No, I wasn’t letting G go off to the 2009 Car Show without me. Yes, having worked in that building, I knew there were Mrs. Fields cookies and places to sit. I took water and a magazine.

“Where were you. I was right here waiting where I said I would be.” G was angry with me.

Hey, when had he ever gone straight for food at a car show. I’d walked the long way to the food spot, and on the way run into the antique part of the show. Talking enthusiastically over a scoopless Austin Healey with remarks like, “Boy, these things sure did rattle. You would think they would fall apart,” got me to….”No, my Morgan was worse; it didn’t have any suspension,” with a nice man standing in the exhibit. The conversation went on, and G wasn’t forgotten just delayed.

“You have to come volunteer with us,” he suggested.

I laughed and told him the Cancer Society already had me.


Emptyness at Saab and Chevy.


After a totally inedible lunch, appropriate apologies, and a trek back over to the old cars, G got into a similar conversation with that same man. He left with a business card and a volunteer sign up sheet in hand.

Back into the uncrowded halls we walked. Few exhibits had volumes of visitors. Even Toyota and Honda were bland and empty. Among the exhibits, we found that only Ford put on a good show, Chevy sent their fancy small truck design over to Pontiac and featured alternative power, and nothing much caught the eye until the very end of the giant hall.

There the mini’s had the wall to wall crowds. A good sign that there is still interest in something as the world comes to a halt around us.






I unintentionally sat in the sun for a while where G couldn’t find his way to me. I had to laugh at the officious security guards. We peeked at the custom cars then wended our way home in precious sunshine.

Politics could have curdled dinner. Reading through the back issues of Newsweek just after finishing a book on the politics of first families, didn’t leave a sour taste in my mouth because I was home. Meatloaf sandwiches and cold slaw were good for the soul this night, and home was where our hearts were.