I’m working on my next book, the sequel to my time travel mystery novel, Inherit the Past, but took time off yesterday to attend a car show in Arizona. It was a beautiful day with a temperature around 85 degrees, humidity at 19 percent, and a light breeze, perfect for walking around a church parking lot and looking at antique cars (well, most were old, though some were newer).
The presenters of the event played oldies over loudspeakers–mostly songs from the 1960’s. Everyone was having a good time. Kids even got to paint an old car, something I’d never seen done at a car show before.
The event itself brought back memories. I saw cars that reminded me of the convertible my parents owned when I was a little girl. My husband saw a car that was very similar to the first car he ever owned. He saw another that was like a car his college buddy drove him and other friends around in.
More than anything, though, the event reminded me of my father who passed away almost nine years ago. He was a fan of antique cars and car shows. At one time he and my stepmother owned several antique cars, and he enjoyed participating in car shows and car parades. He would have loved this one, I think.