Enjoying the Unexpected Journey

The first thing that I should explain is that my car is dirty.  Very dirty.  Dirty as in "I think I washed it six months ago, well maybe a year ago, but I'm not sure" dirty.  Embarrassingly filthy might be the most apt description.  And there's an ouchie on the front bumper from where I hit a pole (I was having a bad day at the time, stuff happens).  And another on the back bumper from where I backed into a pole.  (Yeah, I don't think poles like my car.)

The second thing is that I don't subscribe to the local paper; it's just not in the budget (being superseded by other slightly more necessary things like salt) so I generally have absolutely no clue what is going on around here on any given day.

The third thing is that I usually I go to the Post Office at 2 PM, regular as clockwork, but it was a bad weather day, so after checking radar online I timed my journey to the PO quite early to fall between two thunderstorms. If I had gone to the PO at the usual time, this amazing experience would never have happened. 

My little dead end road turns off a wide curve which has been the scene of some dreadful accidents, so for safety's sake it's best to take time to look very carefully before pulling out.  

As I sat there waiting that morning I was highly amused to see an old woody station wagon going by.  So cool!  Then a Chevy Corvair!  My family used to have one of those, and we drove it cross country twice.  Such memories!  After that  the next car was an absolutely beautiful cherry red Camaro with racing stripes.  There was space, I pulled into traffic and noticed that I was followed by another fantastic Camaro--that one was grape purple.  My filthy but bright lemon yellow PT was in a Camaro sandwich--how fun is that?!  

I suppose that I am not the brightest candle on the cake because something should have tipped me off by then.  But I was happily oblivious.

As I was travelling into town in between the Camaros, I noticed that there were clumps of people standing at the side of the road.  They were waving.  They were actually taking pictures of my filthy car with the banged-up bumpers!  What was going on here?  Then I saw a Model T truck parked on the side of the road, and that was when the penny finally dropped:  I had unwittingly joined the middle of a classic car rally! 

By this time I was laughing hysterically.  I waved back at the people on the side of the road.  Hey, when you find out you're part of a parade, you may as well join the show.  The police had special traffic enforcement so I happily got to go through stop signs and street lights without even slowing down.  

For about ten very silly minutes, my car was a classic and I was in my very own parade!