I love the smell of partially burned hydrocarbons in the morning. Smells like. . .1970.
Throw in some cowboy killers and four barrel carbs and you've got all the necessary ingredients for a car show.
This past weekend the pistons and planetary gears all aligned, manifested us a car show in the park down the street.
From the looks of things there were plenty of folks dying to go.
"Hey kid, what's your favorite dinosaur?"
"First gen Camaro!"
Better make it a Z28.
Two days, hundreds of vehicles just to prove you're never too old to play with toys.
Or too young to drive a muscle car.
'You're unique, just like everybody else.'
History on four wheels, rolling down the road at 8 miles a gallon.
They've resorted to cannibalism in the spare parts department, better enjoy the show while you still can.
See you next year, Louisville Street Rodders. Until then, be good, be careful, and peace out.
