6-19-2015 MSRA Back to the 50s Cruise-In

6-19-2015 ST. PAUL, MINNESOTA

George                Bill                  Patty            

We were sitting around one evening, minding our own biz during the cocktail hour and discussing the various activities going on with friends and family and so forth.  My brothers, we remembered, were attending the MSRA (Minnesota Street Rod Association) Back to the 50s Cruise-In with their 55 and 56 Chevys to display, in the company of more than 12,000 other lovely old beauties. There was a certain small jealous undercurrent to the conversation until our good angel asked, "Hey Whiners, you've got frequent flyer miles up the ass.  Why don't you get on a plane and go to the cruise-in?"  Off to the websites and bazinga, here we are at the Crowne Plaza Hotel in St. Paul.  Next stop:  the state fairgrounds.

My goodness.  We are awash, nay submerged, in pretty antiquity, all colors of the rainbow, soft, glowing, glistening, sparkling, shocking and of course, rumbling (and don't forget the flames).  It is a colossal orgy of eye candy.  Every now and then when an ignition key is turned, the acres of ground quake.  There are flawless paint jobs, sparkling chrome, suicide knobs, chrome valve covers, fuzzy dice and lake pipes farther than the eye can see.  "And there's one more thing:  I got the pink slip, Daddy!"  I venture to say that if a tree-hugger were to appear here and announce that fossil fuels should be phased out, it would be at his own peril.

Pretty, pretty, pretty!

Those who own these cars come here from far and wide and it is one of the biggest cruise-ins in the nation.  Some rides we've seen are very rare:  56 Plymouth Fury, 30s vintage Buick, a 39 Plymouth and one neither Rob nor my brothers have ever seen in captivity, a 61 Chevy Nomad. We've also seen about four of those foreigners (VWs, Rolls, MGs) but hey, we are good Americans and nothing if not exceptionally tolerant.  ";Bring us your poor, your huddled masses, your crappy cars..."

George's 55

My brothers George and Patty (and until recently, Bill, owner of the 57) park their 55 and 56 Chevys in a favorite spot at a grassy, shady place where we all picnic and watch the parade hour after hour. 

Patty's 56

Over the years, the camaraderie has grown with many of the folks who like to park their beauties in the same area.  It is one big happy family.

Woody and me, holy buckets!

Rob, beautiful 58 and me

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            Over time we walked the streets filled with cars, rode the Space Tower up to the top

and the gondola to and fro to get an aerial view of the miles and miles of cars.  There are a hundred places to find interesting members of the five basic food groups including pork chops-on-a-stick, cheese curds, bratwurst, walleye sandwiches and buckets of homemade chocolate chip cookies.  Rock and roll fills the air.  These old gray-haired gear-heads sing, "she's my little deuce coupe"

and they're actually not kidding.  Nothing like the sound of a blown V8 with straight pipes in the morning.  Ah, God bless America.