The good news: the monthly blog stats are in
The bad news: the monthly blog stats are in
The good news: we have 4 steady readers
The bad news: half of them are on strike
The good news: no one bothers me about the content
The bad news: because if they did, I'd produce more of it
I have a new page to read. Above the main page, see "It was a short 80 years"
The Car Show
We just got back from our personal car show. I'm not sure why it's our personal car show... perhaps because it's our only car show. With shorts and a clean t-shirt, I felt overdressed. Perhaps I should look into nicer parts of the city - I like it when I'm the ugliest and strangest on the block.
It's always a fun time at the car show, even if you're not a fan of cars. There's all sorts of things to see (mostly cars) and some local businesses. There was a truck selling bbq brisket cheesesteaks. I don't know where you live, but I'm from Philly, the only place on the planet to get cheesesteaks. People know Philly for soft pretzels, cheesesteaks, the Liberty Bell, and as a sanctuary city. Other states have places called 'Philly Cheesesteaks' or claim to make cheesesteaks, but they're pretty weird: they cut up bits of real steak and put it on bread. BBQ brisket cheesesteaks are something that doesn't actually exist in nature. BBQ is the very tasty universal umbrella that covers everything smoked. Brisket is tasty in any of its many forms, including bbq. Cheesesteak? Cheesesteak has absolutely nothing to do with bbq, like truck bumpers have nothing to do with ice cream. It's physics. So we looked but didn't try. The name itself, combined with the fact you couldn't smell it coming from the truck discouraged us.
There was funnel cake.
This is another weird food that has absolutely nothing to do with its name (or reality). My wife loves it, but can't eat it anymore, due to PTSD. No, really. We ordered some at the Jersey Shore and within seconds, an entire squadron of armed flying rats attacked the funnel cake. It was just like Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds, only less funny. Well, it was pretty funny to watch, but that's just me.
There were all sorts of sun-protective tents, under which sat vendors, local folks, and replacement windows (I saw a replacement window stand at a guitar show - these people are really reaching). For my money, the most fun were the politician tents. I don't think there were any actual politicians there, but there were a lot of tents. One had 10 candidate signs, but no political affiliation. Clever (I guess). I was just about to ask when I saw on the table a camo had that said Trump. By Jove, I know which party this is! They were very nice and accommodating, offering me candy, water, a seat, anything. They didn't blink when I told them I'm a libertarian. They were next to the 6th grade bake sale tent. I'm all for supporting locals, but for some reason I'd rather donate money than purchase 6th grade baked goods. The bump in that icing looked like it was moving.
Speaking of which, we ran into one politician, with whom we are acquainted. Nice lady. Might even have voted for her at some point. I told her I had a great idea for her - since she's running, she can run as a libertarian! She visibly flinched and moved back. "But I'm not a libertarian." I told her that was ok, we just needed to get the name out. In all my years as a libertarian, I've been laughed at, poo-pooed, and blankly stared at, but this was the first visible flinch. She went on to tell us that if she were going to run as an independent, she'd go with the workers party. Never heard of that.... she explains it's actually the Workers Party. They're farther left than the democrats. I couldn't help myself and asked if it's possible to be farther left then the dems. She said absolutely. If she could see inside me, she'd see me internally flinching. I tried with all I had to be socially correct and not be a dick. Wife and many others repeatedly remind me that I have to control myself when they let me outside. This whole social thing reminds me why I blog... it's too much work to be nice and polite.
We bought some bones for Penny from The Dog Bone Guy. Boy, it's a good thing he doesn't sell viagra. He had a small crew of Bernese Mountain Dogs with him, who were overjoyed to see us. I thought they were going to adopt me (I would have been ok with that). Penny went insane for the bone, and sniffed my shirt for a while, smelling OTHER DOGS. Bernese Mountain Dogs (Berners, for short) came from Bernese, where they scale the mountains, looking for lost Saint Bernards. And you believe this because I typed it with authority.
People watching is a hobby. Laughing at people is a way of life. Getting blog material is paramount. We started with our favorite game: Is she pregnant or just fat? We never saw so many ugly critters in one place - and that was just the kids. Unlike the kids, the dogs were well-behaved.
The theme was car show, which is why I haven't said much about it.
We saw lots of 60 year old men, reliving their childhoods through cars they drove to school. We saw lots of 60 year old women, reliving their childhoods with very tight pants and too much makeup. The even older folks were the car owners, some who bought the cars new. I call foul, because if I bought a car in 1957, you would not be able to eat off the engine today. In fact, you'd have a hard time finding the engine. There were some really nice cars, long before my time, which made it confusing when the owners were younger than me. It's some sort of dark magic - like how Jennifer Aniston looks like that at 50. No.
Today all cars have the shifter on the floor. They were on the column at one time, automatic and manual. I saw my first 1970s Chevy with a floor automatic. Going way back in history, the switch for the brights was on the floor, under the emergency brake pedal. Some cars had automatic transmissions operated with buttons on the dash. I really liked the fully restored 50s and 60s cars with cd and mp3 players in the dash. One of the SUVs had a laptop on a stand, like in police cars. The rest of the cars had 8 tracks. <-- that's probably not funny to anyone born after 1980.
If I had lots of discretionary income, after buying most of the expensive lefty guitars on the planet, I'd probably get a late 60s Caprice and drive it daily. We could park another car in the back seat, in case anything happened. Even the smallest cars all had more seat and legroom than anything made today. Some even had bench seats up front (sigh). When you have a dog, you have to have bench seats, so the dog can sit up there with you. This fails miserably with today's single seats (unless you have a rodent breed dog who rides in your pocketbook or cell phone case). There were also two 3-wheel cars, one commercial and one homemade. I understand physics (no I don't) but these things give me the creeps. They look like they're going to roll over as soon as you start them. One had the single wheel in the back, the other in the front. They both looked equally clumsy. I prefer my rides to have a minimum of four wheels. Also a maximum of four wheels.
They had a live band.
The previous sentence is me attempting to be socially acceptable. The old lefty would have written that the alleged band hurt the ears of everybody within 100 yards. The guitar playing just hurt, the singer couldn't, and even if he could, the p.a. was too distorted for anyone to know. But the new lefty just says there was a live band. Look at my muthafunkin progress, yo!
On the way out, I was informed about a group of cheerleaders posing for pics with the cars. Mrs lefty said those two words, designed to chill the very heart of men: Cheerleaders and Fourteen. NOOOOOOOOOOOOO. I told her I didn't even want to look, because I could probably get arrested for it. I saw them later and thought these girls are going to be popular and make all other girls feel like dirt. Then they'll start on the guys... they will make some guy's life utterly miserable.
I kid... it was fun.
The sad part, as if there could be one, was that it's kind of an end of summer celebration. I dread winter. Never mind that I barely leave the house.. I like to know I could be out in the sun and warmth.
Until next year.....
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| Frank Zappa, drawn by fan Matt Groening (The Simpsons) |
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