Once a year, the world descends on Metro Detroit for the be-all and end-all of classic car parades, the Woodward Dream Cruise. Close to 10 miles of main road packed with cars from the glory days and sidewalks stuffed with a million admirers. We just happened to be in Detroit for this weekend, too. It was Mr. F's first Dream Cruise, so we introduced him to it with a smaller parade the night before the main festivities. He oohed and ahed like a true Detroiter. I daydreamed about owning one of the pickup trucks someday. Mr. F leaned toward the Corvette. I'd be happy with either one.
This parade reminded me of how much I love being from Michigan and the Midwest but also how much I love being an American. Hot dogs, taco trucks small towns, block parties, bar-b-cues, flip flops, barber shops, 7-11, Motown music. All of it swept over me and made me so proud of who I am and where I come from. And then we got a $5 pizza from Little Caesar's and I really had to stop and wonder why we live on the other side of the world.
This parade reminded me of how much I love being from Michigan and the Midwest but also how much I love being an American. Hot dogs, taco trucks small towns, block parties, bar-b-cues, flip flops, barber shops, 7-11, Motown music. All of it swept over me and made me so proud of who I am and where I come from. And then we got a $5 pizza from Little Caesar's and I really had to stop and wonder why we live on the other side of the world.
No comments:
Post a Comment