That’s right: I’m inviting THE GENERAL PUBLIC to Casa Del Jeep in Troy, Michigan. A bold move, I know, but I’ve been hosting car shows for the formerly-Colonel Mr. Public, and have found him mild-mannered. Proof: I have yet to be murdered. As I hope to keep this streak alive, I won’t be posting my address here publicly. Instead, I’ll ask each of you to email me and describe why it is that you’re unlikely to harvest my organs in your basement. We’ll get to that in a bit, but first — the details: Who: David Tracy and Autopian readers What: A junkyard visit followed by a wrenching-themed party at DT’s house When: Saturday, February 4, 2023. Junkyard visit: 3:00 P.M. Party: 5:30 P.M. Where: U.S. Auto in Sterling Heights. Then at my house in Troy, Michigan Why: David is leaving Michigan after 9.5 years. It’s time to celebrate this time, and the friendships forged in the lovely mitten. How: Show up at U.S. Auto with $1 in cash (entry fee), and come walk around the junkyard with me (pull parts if you like). Thereafter, come to my house dressed in wrenching garb (coveralls if you have them!), park in the driveway or backyard, enter the (empty) shack, see other car nerds, say words to them, listen to them say words, eat free food, get free car-stuff, dance if you want to, and then eventually leave. Or you can crash at the house — it’s an empty shack, after all. Just bring a sleeping bag. The visit to the junkyard is optional, of course, though it will be awesome. The party at my house, which starts at 5:30, is going to involve music, free food, and some car stuff that I’m going to try to pawn off on you. Not sure that it’s really any good, but I gotta get rid of it. Bring your cool car, park it in the backyard, and then talk everyone’s ears off about it. To RSVP to this party, email david@autopian.com, along with the aforementioned description of why you’re unlikely to harvest my organs in your cellar. Man, this throws my whole frame of reference off now. You’ve been Detroit Man for as long as I can remember. Like Florida Man, but with rust and fewer bootleg psychedelics purchased from some guy in a Waffle House parking lot at 3 a.m.
