I’ve been scrubbing my hands for two hours straight, using a brush to get all the crusty motor oil and wheel bearing grease out from under my nails. I’ve scoured through all of my clothes for one — just one — shirt that doesn’t have a stain somewhere (yes, I’ve debated just dyeing a shirt in oil to solve the problem). I’ve been learning about the sports of golf, lacrosse, and stock portfolio management, plus I’ve picked up some books on air cooled Porsches and Delahayes. Vineyard Vines? I know what that is now. Hell, I even bought a shirt from “Bonobos,” whatever the hell that is. Like most shirts, it is made of cloth and covers much of my torso; unlike most shirts, it cost as much as a rebuilt alternator; I’m not thrilled about it. I’ve also been trying to condition myself to avoid using certain words and phrases, but as a man who has spent so much time watching YouTube wrenching videos and choppin’ it up with mechanics, I know I’ll say something like “Shoot a little Gumcutter down that Studebaker’s carb and we’ll smoke that thing up real quick,” and I’ve tried training myself to vomit at the sight of any vehicle sold in quantities over 1,000. But it’s all just no use. The people of the Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance — the fanciest car show on earth — will see me for the junkyard dog I am, and ask me to bring their car around or head to NAPA Auto Parts to fetch them a few bottles of wine. [Editor’s Note: Does David really think you can get wine there? Does David get wine there? – MH]
Back in 2009, my mom dropped me off at the Kansas City airport and sent me on my way to Charlottesville to attend college. It was my first time in Virginia that I could remember, and almost instantly I felt out of place. The University placed me in the rowdiest dorm on campus (which the students called “grounds”), where the kids were so “affluent” that they literally used the term “affluent” to describe their childhood neighborhoods. Plus they bragged about the boarding schools and other private schools they’d attended. “Yeah, I went to St. Paul’s” I distinctly recall one New Hampshire -ite telling a group of kids. “Well, I attended Thomas Jefferson,” said another. I had no clue what any of this meant. I also didn’t know what a cotillion was.
So many of the kids in my class hailed from “NOVA,” which I learned was short for “Northern Virginia.” Many of their parents worked in consulting, or for a firm whose belly always remained full from the endless Las Vegas buffet that is the U.S. government. I was from Leavenworth, Kansas, a prison/Army town, and I’d just graduated from Leavenworth High School, a 1,200 person public center of excellence that received more bomb threats than a Ft. Sill training ground and that did its best to mimic the prison with its frequency of fistfights. In truth, I actually really liked the school, and thought it offered some good learning opportunities, but the point is: I grew up in a totally different world than many of these kids at UVA. They knew it, I knew it. I wore cargo shorts, they wore pastels. I wore transition lenses that they made fun of, they wore Croakies. I drove a 225,000 mile 1992 Jeep Cherokee with rusted out rockers, they wouldn’t be caught dead in something that old or American.
Heading to Michigan after college was a breath of fresh air, I have to admit. And the freshest breath comes right around this time of year in the form of exhaust gases thanks to the Woodward Dream Cruise. It’s a car show for everyone — a Saturday during which tens of thousands of cars driven by people from all walks of life head up and down Michigan’s fabled Woodward Avenue. Families break out lawn chairs and picnic blankets, father-child duos stand proudly next to the vehicle whose engine they’d just installed the night before, and I — always unable to contain my excitement — walk from sun-up until sun-down until I literally can no longer continue. I talk with hundreds of people, from car manufacturing plant workers driving old Chevy Novas to executives cruising in shiny Ford GTs, and from them I learn about the incredible unifying quality of car culture.
But this year, in an act of blasphemy, my lungs won’t be taking in that glorious fuel-filled air of Michigan’s legendary Highway 1, for I will be attending, for the first time, the Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance, the swankiest car show in all the land. I’m fairly sure the tickets to attend this event are more expensive than most of the cars I own, and the average value of a car in the parking lot is almost certainly higher than that of all my cars combined.
I will not find any JB weld or zip-ties holding together body panels, Duralast-brand parts from Autozone won’t be anywhere in sight, and floorboards won’t be littered with old Rock Auto receipts. Rocker panels will not be of the “Wi-Fi” variety (this is what the kids these days are referring to parts that have rusted out); every exterior vehicular surface will be covered in shiny paint. That is to say: I will be deeply out of place, far from the Sterling Heights, Michigan junkyard that I visit pretty much every weekend.
I’m thrilled to have this opportunity; any car-lover should be. And though, in truth, I enjoy choppin’ it up with people from all walks of life and I’m excited to meet new people (especially ones with different experience than I), this event couldn’t be further from the car culture I’m used to. I don’t know what to expect, and I’m a little nervous. I have no doubt that, like UVA, there will be some awesome, down-to-earth folks there, and the pomp and circumstance will mostly be taken as a bit of fun while just a minority of folks take it all dead-seriously. Heck, who knows, maybe I’ll be inspired to up my game from $700 Chevy Trackers and $1500 Willys FCs to vehicles with a bit more, um, overall functional capability. Honestly, this could be the kick in the pants I need to live a healthier, less-greasy, less-rusty lifestyle.
Here goes nothing.
Top image credit: Marshall Farthing
All of the comments, and more. This will be fun, I say this as a past exhibitor. Those who own the cars, and those who look after them are really passionate about all things automotive and, as big a geek as you. I learned more about the metallurgy of my Bentley’s differential from an patriarchal Southern Gent that I will ever need .
Be forewarned, one of this years exhibitors is an expert in the use and manufacture of the splitring.
If anything, you’re about to discover the difference between rich people and nouveau riche people.
Rich people give zero shits if you have money, because they have always had money and have nothing to prove. Spending time with them can be incredibly enjoyable, because they are almost always very intense about their passions, and that’s going to be cars at Pebble. The people you’re worried about are nouveau rich, and they’re more worried about being outed as frauds than you are.
You nailed it. I have been to Pebble 3 times and each time spent hours talking with the car owners, most of whom were fiddling with the car or just hanging around to talk. Each was approachable, knowledgeable, proud of their baby, and happy to show it off and tell you stories.
The truly stuck-up types don’t hang with the plebes and have their restorer show the car. Sometimes the restorers are more proud than the owners.
We went to a show down on the peninsula a month ago and most of the cars on display (Hillsborough) were pretty interesting, but not super expensive. But, as we headed up the lawn, we came to the part with new McClarens and really high end new Ferraris – the domain of the nouveau riche, directly adjacent to their favorite breeding ground: Silicone Valley. The snobbery was palpable.
I’ve been to Pebble Beach a few times and even though the cars were well above the stuff I saw at that peninsula show, the folks there basically showed no snobbery at all that I could detect. It felt like a great big cars and coffee with way better cars, wine available on the show grounds and people dressed up pretty nicely. I went the year they honored the GT40 and seeing 25 of them all lined up was a sight I will never, ever forget.
David, your college story stuck out to me out of this article. What differentiating factors made you choose the school that you chose? Certainly U VA has a solid engineering program, but reading about the culture shock you experienced there, I wonder if a different school with equally rigorous academics might have been a better fit. Since you traveled halfway across the country for your choice, you certainly didn’t limit your choices geographically. What set U VA apart from the rest in spite of its drawbacks?
I say this based on my own experience at a different school. I toured several universities, and when I visited the one that ultimately became my top choice, I felt like I was being welcomed home. It would have made a challenging time even more so if I had been a “fish out of water” so I’m thankful to have found a community that was so welcoming.
I hope that those initial impressions proved to be an outlier and that you were able to find like-minded individuals who supported you. You probably would have really done well in Formula SAE and similar extracurriculars.
David:
1) You’ll meet an alarmingly high number of people there who are just like you, and also feel out of place.
2) You’ll also meet an alarmingly high number of people there who are Greg Marmalard or Douglas C. Niedermayer. Avoid them.
3) You’ll meet people there who are already fans, and like to get their wrench on. They just have bigger garages than you.
4) It can be fun to dress up for an occasion, on occasion.
5) Overall, you have to be who you are. Otherwise, you’re a brick trying to swim.
I think you’ll have a P. B. blast. Just don’t drink too much champagne and start asking people to kiss your rust spots, and you’ll be fine.
David, I attended first through twelfth grades at public schools in Amarillo, Texas. The summer between sophomore and junior year in college I wound up in the Stewards’ Enclosure at the Henley Royal Regatta. If I could do it, so can you. Be yourself, but keep mind of any offhand remarks that might give you away. For example, a Pimm’s cup may taste kinda like Dr. Pepper, but you don’t need to announce that fact to everyone in earshot.
People are people David. You’ll enjoy yourself and make new friends. You might be surprised at how many people there are already aware of you and are fans.
“ I say, beware of all enterprises that require new clothes.”
-Henry David Thoreau-
Go, have a blast then return the shirt when you get back.
Right on! You’ve also got the right attitude. You’ll see some mind-bendingly neat cars, limited edition models of unobtanium, and true museum pieces but more importantly you’ll meet a lotta gearheads who just happen to have more money than god and the cool:D-bag ratio will be frighteningly the same (somewhere between 4:1 and 17:1 based on my limited data set).
And apologies for the delay but the parking spots at the acreage in Mid-Michigan are still available if you’ve not yet found a comfortable home for your fleet of well-loved Jeeps.
I’m trying not to feel sad for DT as he relocates to LA. Maybe it’s just my old age and nostalgia for the Michigan I fled in 1986 when unemployment was about 15%. Maybe I just miss Faygo and coney islands too much. Maybe I still want to listen to Ernie Harrell on the radio, broadcasting from the corner of Michigan and Trumbull. Maybe I’m sad that Saginaw isn’t what it once was. But no car show anywhere can compete with Woodward Avenue. Gotta love those “Michigan lefts.” Godspeed David. You will always find that which you seek.
” the average value of a car in the parking lot is almost certainly higher than that of all my cars combined.”
I’m pretty sure my mid-range, four year old Hyundai is worth more than all of your cars combined.
Fancy pants.
show off
You’ll be just fine! Probably more so because you are such an odd bird, lol.
My advice, if you feel stuck or iced out, is to casually drop the fact that you have been living in “Detroit” for a decent amount of time. It’s a hell of an ice-breaker that’s worked for me many times over the years in new environments. Everyone has an opinion on the city. (I doubt that this will need to happen as you have plenty of stories/travel things to relate with to any rich bastard, ha.)
Whatever you do, though, do NOT tell anyone about your aversion to kitchen appliances for food storage!!!!
Also, Happy B-day! (saw it on twitt)
Thank you! I’m old.
Excuse you, what?
Aren’t you almost a full decade younger than me?!
You don’t get to claim to be old until insuring a Porsche is affordable, or the liability only insurance on a 2003 Toyota Corolla with 350k miles is ruinous.
Come over the Seaside on Saturday for Concourse d’Lemons, that’s where the best cars are!
There are always people at those kinds of events like Jay Leno who owns rolling art but can work on it too. Look for those people.
This may be my favorite comment. I have really come to appreciate Jay of late. He has done a great job of sharing his collection with all of us and, yes, all his cars are road-worthy.
I believe that, while he obviously still goes to Pebble Beach every year, he no longer competes, since all his cars are drivers and things like pebbles stuck in the tires or road dust on the chassis are disqualifiers in the judging process.
Jay is, honestly, one of the very few people I genuinely try to take inspiration from.
“Hey, here’s one of the worst cars ever but it’s really rare. I burned untold sums on fixing it up. Because screw you, I like it. And if you don’t think I’m going to drive this 1 of 78 ever made of which less than 10 survive? You’ve got another thing coming buddy.”
In extremely related news, my 997.2 crossed 64,000 miles today.
Make the most of it! Go buy a monocle and a fake mustache and walk around with a stupid accent pointing at things and saying phrases like ‘by god that is marvelous’ or ‘I wouldn’t have my butler caught dead in that!’
If the silver lining is that you decide you want a car that reliably.. um, works, that would be a plus too!
That clenched-jaw Connecticut “old money, dear boy” accent.
Like Thurston Howell III?
[Editor’s Note: Does David really think you can get wine there? Does David get wine there? – MH]
Maybe he’s confusing Napa Valley with NAPA Auto Parts.
I was thinking the same thing. When these folks talk about a “robust, full-bodied red,” they don’t mean Dexron…
Though, in fairness, David has probably absorbed enough Dexron to qualify as a connoisseur.
His eventual gravesite will probably be declared a brownfield/Superfund site.
Also, I found NAPA Auto Parts promotional wine glasses on Ebay: https://www.ebay.com/itm/334516346110
And, a $50 bottle of red wine from Napa Valley called “Used Automobile Parts” that gets 91 points from Wine Enthusiast:
https://www.winemag.com/buying-guide/used-automobile-parts-2004-red-napa-valley/
So, time well spent…
Well obviously not.
Everyone knows that’s Ford VC-7-B OET coolant or equivalent.
I retain a Dexron 3 preference myself. Mature. Smooth, yet vibrant. Good legs, unlike the later vintages. Mercon is alright. Passable, but a little smoky for my taste. Anything but Type-F. There’s a reason it was dubbed as such.
If I had a chance to attend, I’d want to bring something low in value, aesthetically an eyesore, widely hated, rusted through the floor, and literally roached-out with an infestation crawling in it. Maybe an old 80s-era Chevrolet Celebrity picked up for a few hundred bucks and running on two cylinders, burning oil, would be perfect.
That rusty jeep is still an excellent choice.
Something with a muffler cut off and when you roll across the little podium thing I think you need to lay on the gas, chirp the tires and throw some of that grass they spend an absurd amount of money on at the spectators.
Yes. And it needs to have the catalytic converter ripped out so that the oil burner of an engine is spewing smog everywhere. Then add an obnoxiously-loud sound system worth more than most cars and blare out some of the most hated songs, like “I Got a Feeling” by Black Eyed Peas or “Pump It”. Mix it up with some obnoxiously-loud Satanic Black Metal, like the band “Goat Smegma”, or some death metal like “Cannibal Corpse”. Make sure the roaches have plenty of food with which to create their droppings and leave them everywhere, by keeping rotting seafood in the car a week in advance. It would be glorious!
Wayne Carini does that every year. There’s a used car sales place near by they always go to
How about a mid 90’s F-150 or Chevy 1500 that is rotted to pieces and makes David’s jeeps look rust free?
I live out here. There are no vehicles out here that are “rotted to pieces” and I doubt there’s a car in the entire state of 40 million inhabitants that will make a single one of his vehicles look rust free.
I don’t get the need to try and troll a pretty amazing car weekend. You’re just walking around Carmel and the cars are better than any cars and coffee you’ll attend. Or, you get stuck in traffic trying to get down to Carmel Valley and there’s a Pantera in front of you, an Iso Griffo behind you and next to you is an open blown Bentley from the 20s. It’s really something.
It’s a tremendous time and I can’t recommend it highly enough for my fellow gear heads
Okay, and what makes a 2001 Saab 9-3 Viggen 5 door any less deserving?
Performance?
Yeah, it’s a fucking Viggen. The 160MPH speedometer is not for show. And woefully inadequate with even minor engine modifications. It’s electronically limited, not gear or aero limited.
Skill required?
A stock Viggen is more dangerous than a 911 ‘widowmaker,’ which is what took many of them off the road permanently. And the VRK only does so much, especially when the chassis is far lighter than expected. (Just 3100lbs for the 5 door.)
Rarity?
They made less than 900 5 doors across all years. It’s literally orders of magnitude rarer than the Carrera GTs. It’s rarer than my 997.2 C4GTS coupe. ANY Viggen is guaranteed to be a 1 of less than 420 car. Out of 37 year/color/body combinations, 28 are guaranteed to be 1 of less than 100 ever manufactured. More than half of those are 1 of under 50.
Exclusivity?
See above. Your wallet couldn’t secure you a Viggen, only your luck. Much like the 9-5 Aero 5 speed in Scarabe Green I still kick myself for not buying in ’00. (52 ever made.) Being a millionaire might allow you to pay cash. But you had to be in the right place, at the right time, before Joe Consumer who was ready to plunk a modest $38,000 on an extremely practical, reliable, and one of the safest family cars on the road that just happened to also go very, very fast. (And had pretty much the best seats in all of motoring.)
Value?
Ah-ha. And there we have it. It’s not a “million dollar car” so therefore it’s not “good enough.” Even though literally any Viggen that shows up is equal in performance to half the field if not more, is so exclusive that money really couldn’t buy you one, and will be the rarest thing there by orders of magnitude.
I mean, it’s theater for other poor people, but much like driving around a bus plastered with Trump paraphernalia, nobody will care after the initial guffaw.
Don’t forget it must have a clacking CV joint. Nothing like that noise as you are backing into your spot next to a Lambo.
Casually drop that you’ve passed the Hauptuntersuchung — twice — and you’ll be pretty popular.
Kidding. They’ll love you, David. It can’t be helped.
David:
People are basically the same everywhere. You’ve got your jerks, prisses, show-offs, dicks and dorks but also there are the kind, down-to-earth, smart, reasonable and humble types too. It doesn’t matter your nationality, race, gender, religion, social class, up-bringing or other.
And if that doesn’t work, just speak to them in German. Trust me, EVERYONE will be impressed.
““Bonobos,” whatever the hell that is. ”
Banana Republic, but owned by Walmart.
I know your next question: “Banana Republic” is fancy Gap.
Maybe a kick to have secret shame car that is good working order, no zip ties, or other dubious fixes.
We still want you to stay true to yourself, nothing wrong with have one work of drivable art hanging around.
Plus when people say, “Why do have these things?” You can reply “Practice to keep that running.”
Or just don’t care and do what you want.
Jason tried doing that with his wife’s Tiguan. It didn’t work. Literally.
Then again does a Tiguan count as a reliable car?
I was think the Mustang fully restored or a nearly perfect Jeep. Or a Nash? Who knows.
I am truly excited you get to go David! Who knows, you might teach them a thing or two as well. Sometimes you just need a fix to get you moving, and you are one of the best at those fixes.
David, the funny thing is, you’re going to need an even more thorough shower AFTER you hang around with these people.
When’s the meetup? I’m just going friday/sat to gawk at some unobtanium and Lemons. And maybe swing by the Computer History Museum on the way back north to see some wacky wooden computers and such.
“Well, I attended Thomas Jefferson,”
I think this is the elite public school in Northern VA. Like a Confederate Stuyvesant.
“Honestly, this could be the kick in the pants I need to live a healthier, less-greasy, less-rusty lifestyle.”
Careful of that dark side there bud…