Driving joy

“Summertime, and the livin’ is easy

Fish are jumpin’ and the cotton is high

Oh, your daddy’s rich and your ma is good lookin’

So hush little baby, don’t you cry”

~ The first verse of “Summertime,” composed in 1934 by George Gershwin for the opera “Porgy and Bess.”

Summertime, and the livin’ is … easy breezy. I’m feeling more like myself and walking less like a toddler with a loaded diaper. As proof, in the past few weeks we’ve gone to three classic car shows (including the Woodward Dream Cruise!), visited our good pal Gayle at her lake house and watched the Detroit Lions lose to the New York Giants in their first exhibition game. They won the next game against Kansas City by one point. Today, they play their final pre-season game against Pittsburgh at Ford Field in Detroit.

Doesn’t matter if they beat the Steelers. The regular season starts Sept. 8 against the LA Rams and former Lions QB Matthew Stafford. Bring it. Super Bowl LIX in New Orleans, here we come!

Most importantly this season, a free mattress is also on the line. For real.

If the Lions win on Feb. 9, 2025, all customers who bought something in July – anything at all – get their money back. That includes us, who after 20-some years decided it was time for a new mattress. It cost as much as my first car. Honestly.

Thank you, Gardner-White Furniture. And we certainly hope you have lots of insurance.

So, I’m sleeping better, feeling stronger and life is good.

With that, I have one question for you, dear blog readers: What drives America? Not only what cars do we drive. What drives this great country of ours? Passion. Freedom. Love.

I’m not talking politics. I’m talking cars. Not your grandparents’ car. Not even your parents’ car. I’m talking the anti-establishment car for the ages: Ford Mustang.

Designed by the late great Gale Halderman and managed by the legendary, cigar-chomping Lee Iacocca. That car. The one sitting in our garage taking up half the space 365 days a year.

Back in fall 1964, Ford Motor Co. sold one million of them. Folks weren’t just buying a car. They were buying a lifestyle.

This summer the Mustang turned 60. She runs better than I do. (You knew that was coming, didn’t you?) I love how driving this car makes me feel. Just looking at it gives me a thrill.

And Mustang owners always have a story. Always.

Like the guy who pulled up next to me at a red light the other day and told me how one night cruisin’ Gratiot with his buddies he got carried away and crashed up his 289 Mustang Fastback. I actually saw him tear up, so it’s a good thing the light turned green.

On the other side, Pontiac GTOs and Chevy Camaros were all about image and street cred. And, apparently, GTOs had a bigger back seat, or so the Boomer at a recent car show assured us, detailing how he and his wife proved that theory in the name of science. (Please and thank you, just no.)

Again, owning a Mustang is more than a hobby. I like to think of it as driving my joy.

As of 2024, Mustangs are the last car the company makes. Think about that. The only vehicle classified as a car. Not an SUV or a truck or a Mustang Mach E, whatever that is. (Sorry, CV. Roomy “frunk,” though.)

Since early 2021, Ford has only been making one car. You guessed it. The Mustang. No more Ford Fiesta, Fusion, Focus or Taurus models.

It’s been quite an eventful summer in many ways, and I’m not just talking about my new knee. On July 21, we even got a new nominee. (You know I’ve been waiting to use that for soooo long. You’re welcome.) President Joe Biden withdrew from the 2024 race and endorsed his vice president, Kamala Harris, to replace him.

And in 73 days, we will have a presidential election unlike other in the history of this country. A smart, no-nonsense woman who happens to be of mixed race and a decent, joyous white guy who says “ope.” (Look it up if you’re not from Minnesota.)

During a recent campaign rally in Eau Claire, Wisconsin, now-Democratic vice presidential nominee Tim Walz paused his speech to help an audience member who appeared to be in distress from the sweltering heat.

Notably, he used the Midwestern term “ope” as he realized the situation. (It rhymes with “nope” and is lumped together with other words for gut reactions such as “aww,” “meh” and Homer Simpson’s “D’oh!”)

In Michigan, we do not say ope. Opa, maybe. Not ope.

“Ope,” Walz said, pausing mid speech. “Can we get somebody to help? Somebody’s hot.”

The common-sense coach went on to remind the audience to stay hydrated – and also offered to clean their gutters and change their oil. (Kidding.)

Anyway, the point of this blog post, and I do have one, is to never give up on finding the small joys in life. Whether it’s from a day on the patio listening to the birds while reading a good book. (If I ate like a bird, I’d be enormous!)

An afternoon discussing faux “Northern Lights” with your three oldest grand-nephews and niece. (We’re still laughing.)

Or holding your 3-month-old great-nephew for the first time tearing up as he smiles sweetly at you then realizing he’s looking at his other “favorite” aunt, Rebecca, who’s behind you making silly googly eyes. (I still love you, Tommy.)

Drive your joy. Follow your passion. Choose freedom.

As that Minnesota gov says, it’s almost the fourth quarter, folks. You can sleep when you’re dead.