When someone says to you, “Are you going to Singleton on Saturday?” answer ‘Yes!’
I would guess for most of us, Finish Line and the gorgeous Lyon Air Museum are about all we know or care to know about “Airway” except, of course, that it backs up to the runway and runs parallel to Red Hill. End of story, right?
Well… no longer!
In an instant, the Hirst glance into the Singleton Collection is life-altering, mesmerizing, a never-to-be-forgotten chapter I personally wrote a Saturday morning, early into the new year.
(My photos can’t do it justice-- I’m letting you know this minute.) It’s that “See it for yourself!” kind of experience.
The curb appeal of the home of the Collection is zero. “You’d never know…“ Their property sits on a corner with two separate Cars and Coffee options for our own car parking. Both lots offer entrances into this thirtyfive thousand square-foot not-to-be-believed ‘art exhibit’. “How many cars were there, Alice?” I have no clue. My uneducated guess is seventy or eighty. No clue. (Oops! Google says forty-eight American cars are on display, from a 1912 to a 1970. But trust me, the ’70 is the outlier!)
They were each methodically parked, shine next to shine next to shine. One beautiful grill next to another. My line is “the front end of the car is in another zip code long before the driver gets there!” I don’t know models or years or makes--- I know gorgeous colors and boxy lines and artistically-sculpted hood ornaments, wooden wheels on one and colorful spokes on others. I was overcome when I found the winner of my “Which one do I want to take home today?” contest I play at every car collection I visit, regardless of where-- on Airway Loop, on Bledsoe Street or on Wilshire Boulevard.
It was the Auburn Boattail bright creamy-yellow roadster.
I think I left part of me at the Singleton.
Hope we get another invite soon—and, take it from me, don’t turn it down!