Michael & I went with Betsy to the annual Ceresco Days car show sponsored by Swanson Ford. Soon after we arrived we got noshes from the American Legion pavilion. This year, Michael didn't eat my Polish Dog; he got his own loose-meat "Beef Burger." I would have happily eaten more, or again, or later... but for the rest of the day I was continually distracted and somehow never thought of it.

Shortly after we finished eating, the announcer urged all parade participants to start lining up at the northwest corner of town. Betsy ended up leading a small, rather confused group, looking for the "northwest corner of town". When a bunch of Model As went right around us as if they knew where they were going, I followed them. When they stopped, I stopped too, figuring we were in the right place.

As the drivers all stood under the trees for shelter from the blazing sun and 92-degree heat, I shot this photo of Betsy lurking amidst the vintage tin.

Michael entertained himself playing with the kids from the IROC convertible parked behind us. As I chatted with the parents, we concluded driving my car was like broiling in an oven, while sitting in their convertible was like roasting under a heat lamp. We decided to join the group standing in the shade.

Eventually, parade organizers got us ready to go. Since Betsy was leading the motley group of orphans, they asked me to wait and let the rest of the Model T club go around. I did, but Michael took a picture of this hoodlum youth who somehow got trapped in the middle of the old brass cars.

Michael shot this photo across the hood 'cause he really wants a buggy like that.

Michael was having a blast with the camera. He shot this in front of my face as the rest of the Model As came through. Note Betsy's reflection-- that's a shiny car!

I pulled out to follow the last Model A around the corner onto Main Street, and we found... people!

More people! I began to think Ceresco's entire population couldn't be this large. It's a TINY town. The kids stand with bags waiting for you to throw candy; one man said they got bigger hauls than on Halloween. I'm guessing on Halloween they don't have this many people Chicker-Cheating to this many people.

At least it's a shady street. Here, we're just cruisin' along. At "Parade Crawl", you don't even use the gas pedal to creep forward; just ease off the clutch a little to inch ahead. Not that I was in any hurry...

This is one frame of a video I shot, of Michael throwing treats, reloading, and throwing more. He was really accurate... at firing them onto the ground next to the car.

Falling behind a little bit... Michael's kind of slow at throwing treats. It was at about this point that I heard the PA announcer calling out, "...a '70 Mustang fastback with the factory vinyl top. That's pretty rare; you won't see many of those around!" I'd think not, since Ford never MADE any.

While I cheered Michael on, exhorting him to "just keep throwin', grab some more, throw it out"... our delays came when he'd climb ON me to throw stuff out to the kids on MY side of the car.

...And the antiques are leaving us in the dust.

At the end of the parade route, we drove back to park in our baseball field. One trick pony couldn't take the heat and got worked up into a lather. Mmm, the smell of boiling coolant! Want the audio for this? Say "Sssssssss!"

Michael & I wandered around a bit. I was looking for a couple of guys that I knew, but never found them. Meanwhile, I liked this old 40-ish street rod. Look how it leans forward just sitting there, as if ready to launch. Big ol' meats filling the wheel wells; no rubber-band-tire, fast-and-furious, rice-burning import tuner here! This is 'MERKA!

In the foreground... I don't know what Michael's doing.

Hey, more Fords! Don't know which I like better, the '40-something hot rod or the new GT. (The '60s full-size cars are nice, too!)

The red rat rod in the foreground got one of two special awards. I don't quite understand the "rat rod" thing; I consider them not-finished. But the awards had to go to a '32, 'cause the year's big Ford deal was "Seventy-five years of the Deuce."

The tan car is the same one in the pictures from 2006, belonging to a couple I met when I had to apologize for practically parking in their laps for the fireworks show. I reminded them how Michael had helped them pack up afterward, and we chatted briefly. They said I had a good-lookin' boy.

Michael got a couple of compliments like that; Betsy got quite a few. Nobody called ME good-lookin'...

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