No leaks

So, last week driving Mustang Sal on Main Street through Royal Oak, this middle-aged guy on a Yamaha motorcycle pulled up next to me at a red light. “Nice car,” he said.

I was flattered and rather pleased that he hadn’t called me ma’am. Or sir, for that matter.

For the record, it’s happened. At Kroger, Costco, McDonald’s drive-thrus. Whatever. Darn N-95 masks. Plus, I had just gotten a haircut and was wearing a black baseball cap with a silver pony embroidered above “MUSTANG” in red letters.

Looking like a brother from another mother, I turned my head, smiled and asked if he owned a classic car. He said that he had traded one in 25 years ago – for his wife.

“She doesn’t leak oil,” he added with a smirk and peeled away spewing exhaust from his crotch rocket.

Not the first time he’s used that line. “She doesn’t leak oil.”

What a misogynistic misanthrope, I thought.

Composing myself, I drove away. When I caught up to this leather-clad loser at the next light, I yelled back at him: “Not YET, anyway!”

Then I left that clown in a cloud of dust.

Ah, the people you meet cruisin’ around town in a 1965 Rangoon red convertible. Must be the dog days of summer. Or, more specifically, the third Saturday in August.

That’s Woodward Dream Cruise weekend in Motown. Classic car shows. Cruisin’ Woodward Avenue from Ferndale to Berkley and Royal Oak to Birmingham and Pontiac.

Some people wait all year for this event, especially since it was canceled in 2020 due to COVID-19, and owners of vintage cars and hot rods endured the pandemic without an official Woodward Dream Cruise. Some of them cruised Woodward anyway, even though restaurants and bars remained closed last year.

Not surprisingly, the event became politically charged, as most things these days. It was dubbed the “MAGA cruise,” after the former occupant of the White House. I did not buy a T-shirt.

The Dream Cruise has revved its V-8s since 1995, and it soon became the world’s biggest one-day car event. That’s right: In. The. World.

This year’s Dream Cruise had some competition from a new event a few miles north at the M1 Concourse in Pontiac, aptly named because the state highway designation for Woodward is M-1.

Known as the Woodward Dream Show, organizers hoped to raise the class of people who attended by charging them $100 per ticket – or $275 for three days. Auto enthusiasts could get up close with the cars that shaped Detroit.

When I first heard about the M1 Concourse event, I had mixed feelings. Sounded like a rich guy’s answer to the average car buff’s Dream Cruise, if you ask me. Who in their right mind would pay $100 to look at cars, even if free drinks and meals were included? Not me.

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That is, until my 1965 Mustang Sal was selected among hundreds of others to be displayed as “Classic Ford Motor Company.” I had submitted her several months ago just for kicks. I’m sure my sincere description clinched it: “She’s not fast, but she’s pretty.”

When the M1 folks emailed a few weeks ago that they had selected Sal, I was over the moon excited!

On Friday morning, we parked and watched the opening Lappin’ the M1 Circuit event. For just $250, you could take your dream car out for a driving exhibition on M1’s 1.5-mile track, where professional drivers can reach 140-mph down the straightaway.

Despite Rebecca’s begging, we did not do the lappin’ thing, partly because we’re on a fixed income, but mostly because Mustang Sal at her top speed of 60 mph would be chasing that guy in the red Ferrari until next Tuesday.

Interestingly, the M1 track is ringed by 250 private garages housing collectible cars, sprawling across 87 acres on Pontiac’s south side. We’re talkin’ supercars such as Lamborghini, Ferrari and Bugatti, with hot rods and “muscle cars” thrown in for good measure.

Seems like a strange place to build a high-end man cave, doesn’t it? But what do I know? Maybe not so odd if you know the area’s history.

Pontiac isn’t just a city 28 miles north of Detroit named after an Ottawa Indian chief. It was once a leader in the automotive industry. Heck, Pontiac was a brand name built 95 years ago by General Motors, which still reigns supreme in this part of Michigan.

By the 1960s, Pontiac gained acclaim for its fast, sporty muscle cars, including the GTO, Firebird and Trans Am. But GM discontinued the Pontiac brand in 2010.

Frankly, the Dream Show’s ticket price was meager when compared with the cost for one of those garage condos at M1, billed as “the largest facility of its kind in the world with an active community of enthusiasts enjoying their passion for all things automotive.”

And verbosity, I suspect.

According to reports, garage prices start at about $180,000, ranging in size from 500 to 4,800 square feet. Extra-large units run nearly $300,000. Owners also pay monthly condo fees, property taxes and thousands for interior furnishings. In addition, track privileges require joining M1’s car club for $30,000, plus annual dues of about $4,000.

This is not your father’s garage.

Honestly, we savored the “gourmet food and libations all day long,” as organizers had promised. We enjoyed being treated like VIPs drinking hand-shaken Makers Mark whiskey sours (yum), Dirty Blonde beers (double yum) and noshing local Kowalski brand Coney dogs and Better Made chips.

Plus, I’m sure we logged at least 10,000 steps strolling the grounds.

But there was something “off” about the M1 event. I can’t quite put my finger on it. Maybe too much dough and not enough show?

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What followed at Saturday’s Woodward Dream Cruise, however, was more our speed, so to speak.

We arrived before 9 a.m. in Ferndale at Mustang Alley West, where members of the Mustang Owners Club of Southeastern Michigan (“MOCSEM” for short) greeted and escorted us to our parking spot. For $20, club members received a place to park on 9 Mile, just west of Woodward.

We felt right at home among familiar club faces and ponies of all ages, engines and shades. People were fun, friendly and really knew cars like mine. Here are a few memorable meetings:

• Father and son gearheads Ralph and Rich from Charlotte, N.C., were part of a larger contingent of classic car fans who had traveled to Michigan for the Dream Cruise. Boy, did these two have some stories about past dust-ups and minor brushes with the law in their youth! We laughed and talked for 20 minutes. And they almost convinced me that scrapple was a major food group.

• Laurie, also from Charlotte, was one of the few women we met who came to Detroit with her brother, an auto executive and member of the Mustang Owners Museum in Concord, N.C. I joined as a charter member last year and even bought a brick. Can’t wait to visit.

• Wendy and her son, Connor, 12, of Sterling Heights, Mich., who said they look for a car just like mine every year. “Red 1965 convertible with white interior,” she said, almost giddy, adding: “We found the unicorn, didn’t we son?!” I was touched and a little bit uncomfortable.

• A nice 50-ish couple from Whitmore Lake, Mich., who were in the market for a classic Mustang, preferably one just like mine. “You sure you don’t want to sell it?” he asked about 15 times. I told him to sit in the driver’s seat and start the car so his wife could take a photo. I actually think he giggled. “You have made my day,” he said. Mine, too.

• An older man, Joe, from East Detroit who wondered if we knew the world’s first owner of a production Mustang. “Um, nope. Don’t know her,” I said. Of course, then he told us all about her. Here goes: On April 15, 1964, Gail Wise of Chicago bought a skylight blue convertible Mustang. She was a 22-year-old school teacher and bought the car in a top-secret deal with the salesman two days before Lee Iacocca unveiled it at the New York World’s Fair. She paid full price: $3,447.50. Wise kept the car after she married Tom in 1966, and the family drove it for 15 years until one day, it just broke down. For more than 20 years, it sat in their garage until Tom retired and restored it in the early 2000s. Gail’s now 78. The car is worth between $100,000 and $250,000. Let’s hope they keep it in the family.

Rebecca and I got back late Saturday, tired and eager to share a cold one in the comfort of our air-conditioned home. I pulled Mustang Sal into her usual spot and covered her up for the night.

Later, I checked the carpet on the garage floor underneath the engine.

No leaks. I think I’ll keep her.