I've had enough of all the Detroit crap lately--the auto industry's going to hell in a bucket, the mayor of Detroit is embroiled in more sh*t than even he can handle, and to top it all off, Detroit schools are now confirmed to have the lowest graduation rate of any district nationwide--so we're gonna completely off all that crap, and concentrate on something that I like, at least for today. (As though I don't normally,) but I realized that you can't really talk about art and the automobile, which is frequently a passion of mine, as all who know me know, without talking about lowriders. Play the War song all you want in your head, and have any preconception you care to with regard to Latinos; first of all, I don't buy it, any more than I buy the stereotypes about Arabic people. But the two things you will usually hear about the lowrider scene, and admittedly parts of it are lewd and lascivious, at least in their presentation, is that it still professes, at it's core, to be about family. The cars are big, at least the old-school rides, so you can get the whole family in there if you go to an event. And admittedly these days, there are what they call "competition hoppers," whose sole goal is to scrape the sh*t out of the back bumper, or just smash it in, if they're trying really hard. But the art form is there; the creativity is there. I was watching a show tonight about what are referred to in lowrider parlance as "bombs;" mostly the truly old-school rides from the 30s, 40s and early 50s. They're not totally tricked, just extremely well-cared-for, although sometimes they'll still be running hydraulics and other lowrider essentials. And, yeah, okay, theoretically, there's little to tell between "bombs" and "leadsleds," what I guess you'd consider the Anglo equivalent, except that maybe in the case of "bombs," the "bling" factor runs a little different; they can look perfectly preserved, sporting all the period accessories imaginable, and sometimes doing the small tires, hydraulics, and hyper-mega-dollar flake paint with an image of Jesus somewhere. A leadsledder would probably be loathe to do such a thing, going instead with a full-house Flathead Ford motor, Olds Fiesta spinner hubcaps, and, well a different look. But as I say, particularly as you view the above, the art's still there, even here in 2008. Thank God.