by admin on February 20, 2011

black car on ocean

classic car week (2010)

carmel is normally a rather sleepy little town.  restaurants close early, you can hear the surf at night, and the closest nordstrom’s is over an hour’s drive away (even in a ferrari). car week, however, is another story.  carmel and surrounding towns are abuzz with activity.  the roar of engines and the smell of money are everywhere. people come from all over the world to attend the weeklong series of events culminating in the pebble beach concours d’elegance. 

in fact, car week is how esme and mr. came to love carmel.  mr. noir, a self-described car-guy, has been attending for nigh on 35 years, well before he met esme.  for him, it is the pinnacle of the year.  esme will never forget the first year they came together.  imagine driving down hwy. 101  behind a flock of mercedes gull-wings, their silver wings glistening in the sun like seagulls ready to take flight; falling asleep to the sound of v12 engines, from which mr. noir could identify the make of car; standing in awe before the swooping curves of bugattis and talbot lagos; watching the suit-wearing, cigar-smoking car guys with their long-legged trophy wives dressed in italian leather and 6-inch heels.  i could to on and on, and i am not even a car guy!  imagine what mr. noir would have to say!  

as the years have passed, mr. noir has added more and more activities to his agenda, and esme has substracted some (i mean really, how many bugattis can one see?).  however, she still loves to sunbathe in the heady energy of car-week, donning her metaphorical bikini, reclining with her palms up, and soaking up the fumes, the glisten, and the babel of tongues.  of course, mr. noir would prefer she don an actual bikini, but that is a story for another day!

yours in abject materialism,                                                                                                     



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