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![]() 2:50 p.m., from the office window |
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If you're not from around here: the Woodward Dream Cruise is one Saturday every August when it seems like every old car in Michigan comes out and drives up and down Woodward, from Ferndale up through Royal Oak and Birmingham to Pontiac, all day long. Nobody's racing and nobody's going anywhere. You just cruise, or you sit on the median in a lawn chair and watch them go by. This year was the fifth one, on Saturday, August 21, and the office window happens to be right on the route. I wasn't at the office, of course. The camera was, and that frame up there, from ten to three in the afternoon, is my favorite thing it has ever done. Traffic in both directions, all of it older than me or close to it, and the median packed with people under beach umbrellas. It was hot and hazy, and you can see that too. WHAT I THINK IS IN THE PICTURE At 320 by 240 I can't swear to any of this, but here are my best guesses on the ones right under the window:
OUR DAY We walked over to Woodward from the house with the cooler, the lawn chairs and the girls' wagon, and set up on the median a little after nine. Megan kept a count of Mustangs on the back of a paper plate and lost track somewhere in the forties. A retired couple from Warren with a '57 Bel Air let Virginia sit behind the wheel, and she fell asleep in the wagon by four. Hilda read half a paperback and looked up whenever I said "look at that one," which was every thirty seconds. The Chevelle stayed home again. It's a 1970 SS, maroon, and I've had it since 1991. The body's done and the paint's done. The engine is on a stand in the garage in more pieces than I'd like, waiting on parts and on me. I'd love to take it up Woodward before the girls are driving. Maybe next August. I said that last August, too. IF YOU'RE COMING NEXT YEAR
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