We were a micro-universe in a land of shinier, more fuel efficient automobiles. Throughout the journey, I had the feeling that nothing like this was going on anywhere else on the Planet. We are special, I thought. We are magic, a snapshot epiphany in A (for Art Car) Major, adagio, the slow trickling dance of a rainbow caterpillar of cars at fifty in the slow lane. Sunshine eternal and smiles as the fire of life, of shared experience ignites and burns bright in the body caravan!

It was the whole enchilada. Everything and anything. Just pick an image.

Like Jack Splat, Jeff Vanze's ancient Cadillac convertible zooming by with Frances Nkara behind the massive movie camera and Kennedy's brains strewn across the trunk in ceramic sardonic wit. Like the Sierra Blanca skull people, or the Elvis impersonator, or the motel toilet from the night before that you couldn't sit on straight because it was too close to the facing wall. Like Annie-get-your-gun buck naked out the window in the fast lane on I-10.

Tick! Tick! Tick! Every second it was something, some freeze-frame moment of pure joy, of people awake and alive on the road in April in America.

Annie-get-your-gun is 24-year-old Annie St. John, a spirited young lady who manages her own line of clothing, but who was sighted somewhere in western Texas in no clothing at all. Traveling with her boyfriend, 26-year-old musician David Myers Pugh, Annie and some of the caravan's other lovely ladies got naked for a morale-boosting caravan drive-by streaking.

Yee-hah!

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by Pineapple Publishing and Consulting
Art Cars in Cyberspace ©2004 Pineapple Publishing and Consulting
Contact us at artcars@artcars.com

Last update April 1, 2004