Amelia Island Concours D’Elegance
Apples and Oranges
Word on the street is that the Amelia Island Concours d’Elegance is better than Pebble Beach. Don’t you believe it!
The Pebble Beach setting alone could be worth the trip. After all, this is the famous 18th hole where many a golfing great strutted to his second shot after bringing his tee shot back to the fairway from a trip over the ocean. And far more were just happy to be sixty yards back and safe.
But
for one day in late August, this exceptionally valuable piece of
oceanfront property is enriched beyond measure by many of the rarest
and most beautiful cars on the planet. And when you see them and you
learn their stories from their current keepers, you are moved and
humbled. They are all old souls and many of them have a fascinating
story. As eclectic a mix as they may be, somehow they all belong on
this space; because they have been restored to pristine condition or
because they have not. Perhaps because they belong to the rich and
famous or because they should. Perhaps they led lives as pets of
royalty or perhaps they languished for years in scrap yards before a
discerning eye caught a glimpse of a shapely stray fender and restored
them to their days of glory. Either way, they are all there.
They are Pebble Beach. This concours is not about the high priced rooms or the high priced entry fee or the feeling one can easily get that one has crashed a private party and is underdressed. That’s the less than pleasant price one pays at Pebble. But it is still well worth it.
Remember
when you were a kid and you always looked forward to visiting your
uncle’s house? What made it special? Was it your older cousin’s toys
and your surprise at his delight in his sharing them? Was it your uncle
taking you aside for a minute and asking you how things were going at
school and then reaching into his pocket to slip you a fifty cent piece
because he heard from your mom that “you got all A’s” on your report
card. There was always something warm about that house. The raucous
adult laughter, the incessantly loud thumping on the piano and the
smell of cooking in the air and strong beer and cigarette smoke on
every adult’s breath. And as you fell asleep on a couch in the parlor,
you really knew it wasn’t like that all the time, but it sure was fun
to believe it could be.
Welcome
to the Amelia Island Concours d’Elegance. The setting is spacious and
beautiful. The hosts are solicitous and warm and the cars are inviting
and interesting. Overall, perhaps not as precious, but often more
capable of wrenching a memory from the past that drags a string of
still more memories along with it. Wasn’t that the same red MGA with
the leaky top, weak yellow headlights and totally useless wipers that
made you hold your breath whenever an oncoming car blinded you as it
splashed by? How did you survive? Remember the rich smell of wet
leather and British wool carpets? And on a dark night, reflected in the
greenish dashboard light in that steamy and close little cabin, was it
Annie O’Brien or Nicole Christopher that was absolutely the most
beautiful girl you had ever seen? Today you can’t remember which girl,
but you’ll never forget the moment or the car.
That’s Amelia. The once common but never mundane automobile, sitting contentedly alongside the exotic and the never before seen. And just as at your uncle’s house; everyone is having a good time.
No, Amelia Island is not Pebble Beach. But it is beautiful cars, warm people who aren’t taking themselves too seriously, affordable, and great fun. Make a plan, bring your heartstrings.
Apples and oranges.