Cool cars and guitar(s)

Summer is the season of classic and  custom cars rolling down the highways of the Midwest. The people that build and restore these mechanical beauties are as varied as the cars themselves. The salute to the past, distant and not so distant, is a thing of beauty. Even on a rainy day these automobiles still exude a lot of class, as opposed to a Kardashian who just oozes a lot of something much less classy.

 A lot of these classics and customs are sentimental for lots of reasons. Sometimes it takes us back to memories of when we were kids and life was simpler and we had few responsibilities. Sometimes there is a more poignant memory as seen here.

Of course, where would we be without the requisite fuzzy dice.

So they closed off the main street in our fair city and left plenty of room for everyone, but the rain limited the number of entrants and spectators. They were just getting things started when I took this.

 Rainy day, rain all day
Ain't no use in gettin' uptight
Just let it groove its own way
Let it drain your worries away
Lay back and groove on a rainy day
Lay back and dream on a rainy day.

- Jimi Hendrix

We have had enough rain in Minnesota this month to have our motto changed from "Land of 10,000 Lakes" to the "Land of 20,000 Lakes".  I think that soon it might be called "Land of 10,000 Islands" if it doesn't stop. At the lumber yard I have been asked to get timbers for some ark projects, but when I ask questions about the construction methods and requirements I often get the same response as Bill Cosby did when he asked god about it. "What's a cubit?"
(Previous paragraph is almost true).
Just to show you that it doesn't always rain here is a picture from the city campground a few days ago. You always know people in a small town because we wave at each other a lot. Sometimes we wave when we are not swatting mosquitoes.

We always can count on the local wildlife for entertainment. When the Cooker and I got home from sailing (garage sailing) yesterday we found that the plastic egg we had on the deck was broken into by either a squirrel or chipmunk. I would have loved to see the look on its face when it realized that there was nothing inside of this one.

Meanwhile, back in the garage, I have set up my garage band. I do this because I do not want to disturb the peaceful kingdom that is our house. I only do this in the summer and play mostly acoustic in the winter so as not to offend and ears (fish, frogs, cats, dogs, and even humans). I finally finished up my American Standard partscaster. Now I can sound like Clapton, Hendrix, Gilmour, SRV, et.al. when I am in my own garage world. At least I believe I sound like them. So far no one has coming knocking on the door with a big fat recording contract.

Maybe when I play the Les Paul and sound just like Jimmy Page, Duane Allman, Peter Frampton, Billy Gibbons, Jeff Beck, or Neil Young, then they'll come running looking for their next meal ticket. As long as I keep believing that anything is possible I'll wait for the knock on the door. I believe in the Tooth Fairy, too. Here is my little corner of  the garage.