A Simpler Time
When life was simpler
The images on this page were captured over the Fourth of July weekend this year. This was not a one time summer weekend gathering. You see, every Saturday night during the summer, hundreds of people gather on an asphalt parking lot in Glen Burnie, Maryland to show off their restored classic street rods, as well as admire the work done by others. For me, this display of Detroit Muscle takes me back to the days of my adolescence.
Street rods were common, gas was not an issue, and most of us didn't care what was happening beyond the borders of our tiny world. The only foreign country that garnered our attention in 1972 was Vietnam. A gallon of 104-octane gas was less than 30 cents, and gas mileage cred was measured in how few miles per gallon your ride achieved. FM radio and 8-track tapes were the cutting edge of car audio.
So much has changed since then. The world's ever growing dependence on oil has created an unsustainable market for the days when cruising the local "strips" at night was a way of life. The low, throaty rumble that emanated from a group of muscle cars as they sauntered along in second gear was a symphony those standing standing on nearby street corners.
Street Rods
Summer afternoons as a teenager were spent under the hood, fixing or inspecting engine parts, tuning and timing the motor, tightening clutches, or just cleaning the engine. Gunk engine cleaner was as important to a garage's inventory as wrenches, ratchets, screwdrivers and a timing light. As teenagers, and young adults, that is all we required of life. A muscle car, some cleaner, and a lot of tools.
Now things are far more complicated. Some of it has to do with maturing, and accepting responsibility for more important things. Yet, a lot of it has to do with the varying agendas people seem to have these days. As we come upon the tenth anniversary of the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001, we all need to take a break from whatever talking head geek we subscribe to, and think back to the shock and horror we felt on that Tuesday morning.
Then we need think back to the few weeks that followed, when it seemed the entire nation put aside its differences, and pulled together as one. People were more civil. The petty differences that separated us then, and still do today, really did not matter. We need to stop making excuses, pointing fingers, and blaming others for our collective lots in this life. Because if the terrorist attacks of 911 taught us nothing else, it showed us that thousands of lives can be over in an instant. And once that happens, what else really matters?
We need to be more civil, plain and simple. It can be done. I see it every summer Saturday night on an asphalt parking lot in Glen Burnie, Maryland.