Car Show Etiquette

I’ve been going to car shows for as long as I can remember, and I’m certain it was my father who gave me all the rules that I follow to this day:

• Look, but don’t touch
• Keep belt buckles, snaps, buttons and rivets far, far away from the paint
• Do not stand on running boards
• Always ask permission before touching a car or opening a door

I’m 35 now, and I still do all those things almost by instinct, and I’m guessing all car guys have a similar set of rules by which they live. This editorial isn’t about those rules nor about the horror stories that we all have about people acting inappropriately at car shows (but if you have such stories, send them to me and maybe I’ll print a few here). Instead, I wanted to write about a phenomenon that I’ve noticed more recently and it actually involves us car guys and some serious breaches of etiquette that aren’t so common.

I went to a local show on July 4^th with my step-father, Aaron, who was showing his 1963 Alfa Romeo. There was a real mixed bag of cars there, everything from a 1917 Cadillac touring to Cobra replicas and vintage military vehicles. That seemed like the perfect place to get a real feel for what is going on in the hobby and see where people were most polarized. As a nation, we seem to be obsessed with divisions and separating people who are like us from those who aren’t. I thought car guys would be immune to this (hell, to me, any car that is loved is cool by definition), but sadly we’re not.

Long-time readers of mine know that I’m a fan of creative, innovative work. Old cars with tired 350/350 combinations and 4-barrel carburetors just don’t impress me. I think decals and chrome-plated add-ons are goofy. When I see a car that isn’t to my liking, I simply keep my thoughts to myself and move on to the next car. Unfortunately, that’s a bit of etiquette that a lot of car guys just don’t get.

So I’m at this show and Aaron and Julia leave early because of the heat. I stay with the Alfa to finish the show since it's parked in by a bunch of other cars. I like car shows, talking to car guys and hanging out, even if it is 95-degrees, so I'm happy to stay until the end. Since the Alfa has a big “FOR SALE” sign on the windshield, there are a lot of people who want to talk, and I’m happy to talk to them. Most comments were positive in every way—“What kind of carburetors are those?” “Wow, a six-cylinder Alfa!” “I’ve never seen one like that, what is it?” “Is that the original mileage?” “How fast have you driven it?”

Questions like that usually open conversations about other cars that they or someone they knew owned. That’s how friendships are forged in this hobby, and it is one of the best aspects of it. I know I’m in my element when I’m talking cars with a fellow car guy.

On the flip side, I’m also noticing that there are increasing numbers of car guys out there who just want to throw their weight around. At one point, a guy comes up and says to me, “How do you keep this piece of shit running?” Yeah, he actually said that. I told him that the car had run pretty reliably for the 11 years Aaron had owned it and that I thought Alfa-Romeo’s reputation for being finicky was probably a little exaggerated. This guy kept at it, loudly saying that since the 1972 Fiat he owned was “unreliable as shit,” this completely unrelated 1963 Alfa-Romeo was probably worse. He started poking around under the hood, yanking on hoses and wires saying, “All this Lucas stuff just works loose over time, you can’t trust it.” The Alfa’s wiring hadn’t yet worked loose, and without some dope yanking on the wires, it would probably be just fine for another 40 years. The final insult was as he was walking away: “Well, good lucking selling that piece of junk—I don’t think you’ll ever find someone stupid enough to buy it from you, though.” The funny thing is, I think he was honestly trying to be helpful and wishing me well, and that we were just two car guys yukking it up at a show. Haha, yeah, your car is a real piece of junk!

At the time, I figured he was just a local dope with an axe to grind and let it go. As with most of the rules of car show etiquette, it’s hard to expect “civilians” to adhere to the rules all the time. They usually just don’t know any better: kids climb on running boards, people open doors to look inside, they touch shiny engine parts, stuff happens and you have to expect it. Unfortunately, this guy definitely should have known better. As we were leaving, he hopped into a black mid-50s Chevy truck (with a 350/350 combination and Flowmaster exhaust), revved it up obnoxiously and burned rubber down the street in an embarrassing display of what not to do at a car show if you want to be invited back. He was what I call an “inadvertent asshole." I doubt he was being a jackass on purpose, but I don't think he gives too much thought to what he says and does, either.

Later, as I’m strolling around the show, I see that there wasn’t just the one jackass lurking around, but several. There was a ’37 Packard 110 rumble-seat roadster at the show, again with a carbureted Chevy small-block under the hood. It was absolutely unremarkable except that it was a Packard convertible. The craftsmanship was acceptable, but not amazing, the parts were common bolt-on hot-rod fare and the fat radials looked weird jammed into the sidemounts as they always do. The kid who owned it obviously had a ton of money and time in it, and that I could respect. His car, his money, I’m glad he’s enjoying it. I was bummed just because I think a late ‘30s Packard convertible is one of the most desirable cars around and making a rod out of it seems, well, unseemly. But who knows what he started with? At least someone was driving and enjoying the car instead of letting it rot in a field somewhere.

Even though I had no interest in the car and was a little bummed out by the Packard’s transformation, I did look it over and gave the owner an appreciative nod when we made eye contact. He’s enjoying his car and it is out on the road where people can see it and get excited about old cars again, so it’s all good as far as I’m concerned.

Enter Jackass Number 2.

This guy comes up and starts telling the kid what he’s done wrong. Not that he’s cut up a Packard as I would have expected, but rather that he should have routed his wires like this, and how a double-pumper carb was all wrong for that application and that he (the critic) could have made a better dashboard (it honestly sounded like he was trying to drum up business for himself in this manner—I wondered if he was some kind of professional dashboard maker). The worst statement I heard was, “If this was my car, I wouldn’t have screwed it up so bad.” The kid just stood there and took it, but you could see on his face that he was none too pleased. If that kid had thrown a punch, I probably would have backed him up.

What the heck is wrong with people? I mean, who the heck says this kind of stuff and figures it’s OK? Have we moved so far away from being civil and considerate that we can say any old thing that pops into our flinty little brains? Are we so certain that we, and only we, have all the answers and that everyone else should be grateful to benefit from our infinite wisdom?

I’ll admit that I didn’t much care for what the kid did to the Packard, but it’s his car, his work, and his money. I’m glad he has a car he can enjoy and my opinion of it honestly doesn’t count for pocket lint. I’m not going to take one single thing away from the Packard’s owner because having fun with cars is what this hobby is all about. But there’s a growing undercurrent of experts who don’t seem to recognize that criticism, even if it’s well-intentioned (and it rarely is), doesn’t have a place here. Never has it been more important to remember your mother telling you, “If you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” People seem to be forgetting this at these shows where there is so much informality and no clear line between rods, restorations, originals and kit cars. Everyone’s an expert and they seem to have forgotten about respect and consideration, preferring to flex their vast knowledge of car building. If the wiring on that Packard was unsafe or unsightly, there was surely a better way to help the kid out rather than telling him that you wouldn’t have screwed up as badly. And if you had a bad experience with a piece of junk Fiat 25 years ago, it really doesn’t make you an expert on all things Italian, much as you would like to believe it does.

The worst thing is that both Jackass Number One and Jackass Number Two were middle-aged men, probably with considerable disposable income and years of going to car shows under their belts. When and where did they learn this behavior was acceptable? Even when I worked for a big-name Corvette tuner and we knew our stuff was kick-ass, double throwdown, set to kill, we never put down anyone else’s hardware, inferior or not. If some guy wanted to stick decals all over his new Corvette and put on a set of gold-plated wire wheels, well, it’s his car. I would never even consider going up to him and telling him how ridiculous I think it looks. But it looks like that’s changing.

So here are my revised rules for car show etiquette:

• Look but don’t touch
• Keep sharp stuff away from the paint (this means purses, cameras and that cell phone clipped to your belt)
• Ask before you touch someone else’s car—this isn’t the auto show, these cars aren’t “demo” models for you to try on for size
• If you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all
• Be content in the knowledge that everyone is enjoying their cars just as much as you enjoy yours
• Conversely, if something is amiss but the owner doesn’t seem to have noticed, bring the problem to his attention in a polite way

Maybe that’s why all the rods seem to have small-block Chevy motors and 3-speed automatics in them. Do something different and one of these experts will inevitably come up and tell you how badly you screwed it up. I really don’t see how that helps anyone except maybe the expert, who is simply stroking his own ego. I’m guessing that the time will come when at least one of these jackasses will be on the receiving end of a knuckle sandwich at a show.

I just hope I’m there to watch.