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Boys and Their Toys: An Outsider’s Perspective.

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Samantha Lee
Samantha Lee

I went to a car show on the weekend. This is a remarkable event in and of itself as generally my typical response to any car related line of questioning is “A green one.”

Obviously, my friend was not expecting miracles when she asked me to come with her to the Kumeu show grounds on Saturday.

Nor did she expect an enthused response on anything throughout the day. Having been a patron of the Classic Car and Hot Rod Festival for years, and having grown up around people who love cars, all she wanted was someone to nod and smile, and offer an “Oh, really?”, or a slightly forced “That’s awesome!”, once in a while.

Which is where I came in. Me, I was slightly afraid. I went in all honesty expecting a bunch of scary tattooed biker-looking lads to try to kill me and sell my kidneys on the black market. (In reflection, I don’t believe bikers use this type of activity as their main source of income.) The image I had in my head when I heard “car show” was a bunch of guys straight out of Outrageous Fortune standing around discussing carburettors while drinking beer served by Pamela Anderson look-a-likes.

This is not an accurate representation of the Kumeu car show.

They apparently have classic cars coming from far and wide, and while I couldn’t tell you the make, model, year or specs on any of them; despite being “classic”, they looked pretty flash, aye. The place is massive and filled with these cars from end to end, all for countless people to drool over.

I say people because there was the full spectrum at the show: it was literally the Easter Show with less sugar crazed kids and more cars. There was equal opportunity shopping for guys and girls ( a relief, I thought I’d be seeing nothing but car parts, but managed to buy some artwork, go figure), lots of food, a ride for the kids, musical and aerial entertainment, and of course, the cars.

Did I learn anything from my excursion?

I can tell you I really like what are probably called Chargers, and the ones called Trans Ams? These, according to my source, always have an eagle on the front; (this is a piece of trivia I retained and am very proud of, and so will now use to pretend I know more than I actually do about cars.)

I loved looking at all of the cars, talking to the obviously proud and passionate owners, and reading all the highly appropriate license plates. 

Once I actually own a car I’m under the firm impression that the only possible way I can drive it will only be if it comes in black with blue flames on the side, and if it has been deemed acceptable by my friend, whom it has to be said has great taste in entertainment for a Saturday.

As for the scary biker lads? I have seen far less gentlemanly behaviour at the Viaduct of a Saturday night than at any stage during the show. In fact, if you want a snap shot of laid back, friendly New Zealanders, go to this show next year.

Anything else?

Yes. Next time I’m with a bunch of guys who only want to talk about cars, I may just join in. 

What: The Classic Car and Hot Rod Show

When:The third weekend in January, annually.

Why: Trust me, once you've gone the first time it'll become tradition.

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