Uncle Bruce loves Model-A Fords. And he’s not alone. Once a month he meets with a club comprised of other Model-A enthusiasts. Today we all met up for a 50+ mile convoy ride to eat lunch and talk cars. Because today was rainy, many people opted out of driving their Model-As and took their modern cars. Uncle Bruce and his brother Ron are apparently much more dedicated because only they along with to other members drove their antique cars through the rain.
I rode in a car from 1930 today. I thought that was a pretty cool thing to be able to say. Preserving these vehicles is commendable, and I was marveled by how much work Bruce put into restoring his auto. Before we left he showed me some pictures of the state of the vehicle before he began working on it. I was blown away. He basically converted a pile of rust and bolts into a fully functional and sleek vehicle.
The rain did become a factor as we drove to the destination and unfortunately ended up breaking down. It was a real bummer for all parties involved, but we were able to hitch a ride to the meeting location and still had lunch. We weren’t the only ones with mechanical problems. I think it’s a reflection on the fragility of these antique cars. While they are fun to ride and work on, they are over 80 years old. I mean the horn makes that’ Aoougha’ sound, so that tells you just how aged they are. Regardless, I felt like Dillinger in the back seat, and while it was short lived, I was thrilled to be a part of a club of like-minded aficionados.
After lunch, we drove over to Tubac which is a small art oriented town a few miles from the meet up point. Much like the rest of southern Arizona, Tubac was bursting with bright red, yellow, and orange décor. Painted pots, metal sculptures, wind chimes, and turquoise jewelry littered the streets of town. Years ago I would have referred to a town like this as “gayer than 9 duded blowing 10 dudes” but I’ve grown to appreciate the finer things in life and it’s pretty difficult not to given the beauty of these handcrafted works. I snagged a few pictures of the town’s offerings, but was confused to see a lack of grocery store, post office, police station, and any other community oriented buildings. Just jewelry stores and coffee shops. I fantasized about smashing all the clay pots with a hammer and knocking over sculptures just to see if anyone would do anything. Whenever I don’t see cops, I instantly try and think of the most illegal things I can do. Why my mind goes this way, I don’t know. Maybe it’s all the Black Flag and Reagan Youth I’ve been listening to lately. I begrudgingly kept my hands in my pockets and didn’t destroy anything.
A little way down the road, we reached a border patrol station. It was kind of surreal to actually participate in. I guess I didn’t realize just how close we were to Mexico today. Seeing officers walk by us with K-9 units just made me feel like I was doing something wrong. Puppy went crazy for the guy in front of us. Sorry amigo, you’re doing the Lord’s work and you got caught. That might offend some people. That’s why I wrote it. Oh well. Broke down cars, mountains of turquoise jewelry, and misinformed racist conversations. Day 15, ya’ll.