BlackNotBlack.com

Hot Rods and Unhot Bods

My recent wanderings around San Francisco took me to the opposite side of the Bay, to lovely San Rafael, a community tucked into wooded foothills at the southern end of super rich Marin County. The day I arrived the town happened to be hosting that most American of events—a classic car show. Main Street—or whatever the central drag through San Rafael was actually called—had been closed down, and more than three-hundred gleaming examples of mostly citrus-colored automotive artistry were on display.

Sadly, nothing much of interest happened at this extravaganza, but I did see some mighty nice rides and felt compelled to post them here. It occurred to me that the whole event seemed to exist in an eddy where time had stopped moving forward around the time American Graffiti first hit the cinemas. Back then gas was plentiful and inexpensive, the American greenback reigned supreme, and the only thing anyone knew about the Middle East was that it had camels.

Walking around in this time bubble, I wished some of my international friends were with me. The streets were packed with the exact type of Americans they hate, but have never actually met. Yes, there were real patriots out and about—people who vote red, travel by motorhome, and believe global warming is nothing more than a confabulation of the liberal media. Freedom fries, anyone?

I’m willing to mount my political stallion and brandish the leftist standard any time I find myself within the camp of the enemy, but it’s pretty hard when faced with these all-American types because they’re so fucking nice. The car show was a reminder that I actually like these people. For one thing, they’re amiable. Just can’t get around that fact. They are also polite. Spend a little time in Los Angeles or New York and you get the feeling those particular Americans are just a nudge away from going Patrick Bateman on you. But these all-American types believe—incredibly—that the world is uncomplicated.

Faced with so many grinning examples of the species, I started to wonder if perhaps they were right. Look at this guy below with an engine on his head (and a gearbox or something coming out of his ass). Does he look like he has a worry in the world? Certainly he wants people to believe he doesn’t. What will be will be, he seems to be saying, even if the Buddha physique he's sporting hints at an angioplasty on his sunny horizon. But potbellies were the norm that day. This is where all the obese Americans had gotten to, it seemed, because I wasn't seeing any in sleek and toned San Francisco. In fact, I can only say one thing for certain about the day in San Rafael—when regular Americans come out of the woodwork, you see some seriously unattractive people. For me, that’s reason enough to live overseas.

posted by Egan Ehlers @ 8:16 PM