What was the year? No, not 1969. How about 2003? Last night was Cruise Night in our sleepy little town of Mayfield Village. One evening every June, the town fills with cars from the 50's, 60's and 70's and the air fills with testosterone and the smell of gasoline.
On the way home from a wonderful dinner with our good friends Tyler and Betsy, my wife Mary and I stopped to check out the promenade of vintage cars and 'hot roads" in the village square. What a hoot! It was a "Happy Days" experience. The Fonz would have been proud.
Two wild thoughts popped into my head as I stood watching the looping parade of steroid machines. First, the cars racing their engines around the square were unbelievably well-preserved, but their 50 and 60 plus year old drivers were not. Second, I wondered if there was a "sacred geometry" to this vintage car thing.
The first thought reinforced the necessity of my daily fitness routine and avoidance of the local Krispe Kream shop. As for the second thought, I think there is a sacred geometry of everything, including vintage cars and the cult that surrounds them. My Arizona friend Derk Janssen would call this sacred geometry "essence rediscovery," which is the psycho-spiritual process each of us follows at various points to re-discover ourselves and our essential spiritual nature. The vintage car thing is all about reconnecting with lost or unremembered parts of ourselves, and yes it is also about testosterone.
For some inexplicable reason I'm in the mood for some Beach Boys music this morning.
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