Posted by on August 1, 2019

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A short 427 medley to enjoy while you read. Or click the start button above right for continuous play.

We were out looking at cars, still a baby boomer thing, and our relationship manager mentioned that a GAA Classic Cars auction was happening around the corner at a place called the Palace in Greensboro. Three days of cars to auction, mostly with big engines, some huge, or some other thing unique, especially age; including a number of Shelby Cobra kit cars, and 60’s/70’s cars with numbers like 442, 302, or 350 and 427 emblemed on the side, or names like Electra 225 in the cruiser segment and Porches and a few Ferrari’s, pages from the automotive history books, and most of these classic cars include speed, if not muscle, and look as if they should, with room for our girlfriend, or buddies, or fianc├ęs, or families and our favorite music of the time in row after row designated with which day that row was to be sold: Hundreds of collectibles and drivable and dream-able cars and a few trucks, going on the block and sold every three to four minutes or less.

Automobiles, engineering and art; there is art in the engineering and beautiful exteriors, and though all the engineering of the internal combustion power plant may be on its way to the history books (oh, don’t count them out so sooooon, like we counted out the four stroke motors in motorcycle racing when the super-quick two strokes came along in the 1960’s), there remains a lot of oil production willing to pump hydrocarbons into the tank of these artworks and memory lanes, riding the plains….

Love for cars and what they mean to those of us that grew up in the “urbia’s” and countrysides where independence meant being able to get away from home and authority in your car or truck and move out into the infinite unknown, whether on a Friday night date after a home game and cruising Main Street, or one of the many “first time I…” adventures of our lives, the car or truck or van there, then or here now, make and made everything possible, and continues to open avenues…

From ten thousand to a hundred and more, they come and go and you can see in the eyes of the new owners the myriad stories that brought them here, and all those they will tell again, tooling down main street.

All photography by Frank D. Wilson.

Robot at Portland Science Museum

Occasionally, it is good to clear your browser history, as you may otherwise be seeing dated detail…

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