I spent a little time with my husband at the Stone Arch Bridge Festival over Father’s Day weekend. It’s billed as “a weekend of art and music on the Minneapolis waterfront.” There were hundreds of artists, each with a little booth selling their handmade wares. There were food trucks, fireworks, and live music. The crowds were impressive and so was the heat! It was a good day.
We stumbled across something unexpected while there: a tiny classic car show. I’m famously bad at remembering car makes and models, but I’ve always had a fondness for the design of a classic car. On special occasions as a kid, my dad would drive us around in a black and white 1956 Rambler. It was a behemoth and a beauty. I can still remember how it smelled and how extra tiny my sisters looked sprawled out across those bench seats. On Saturdays in the summertime, my dad drove us in the Rambler to the local classic car show, so he and his peers could listen to oldies while drooling over each other’s cars. If we behaved well and didn’t complain too much about his solo motown sing alongs, he would drive us to the frozen yogurt shop for a treat. I wasn’t able to be with my father on father’s day weekend, so my obsession with these cars (especially this gorgeous Pontiac Bonneville) seemed a fitting tribute to our good old days.
