Early this Spring I got the letter inviting me to be the Grand Marshal of a Vintage and Antique Car Tour over the fourth of July weekend in Florida. Naively, I saw it as my chance for a truly ultimate weekend.
It was billed as a real tour, not just a crown of people shuffling across a lawn looking at Model A's . . . which I suppose can be all right if you're that type . . . I'm not. The invitation came with a little map of the route, a red line starting out at Ormond Beach then angling south and west all across the Florida Peninsula to the Gulf and straight south through Ft Myers and Naples, ending up on Marco Island for a big show of the cars. Fifty cars had been invited, strictly limited to machines of special interest that could go the distance, not those gleaming brass and chrome paperweights you see at too many "auto" shows. And I was being asked to lead the whole damn parade in my 1931 Chevrolet Independence Roadster. . .