As
a French woman in Ann Arbor, I saw what I would have never seen
in Paris: a shopping cart race. Certainly Ann Arbor may be more
appropriate than Paris for this kind of event. Can you imagine a
shopping cart race on the Champs-Elysees? No, it is impossible.
But here, in a sort of climax of Punk Week, a dozen or so participants
gathered to race elaborately decorated shopping carts from the Fleetwood
Diner down Main Street. The carts were like parade floats from the
subversive side of the tracks, slyly mixing Santa and Mrs. Claus
with George W. Bush and Dick Cheney, for instance.
An element of drama added to each cart driver’s performance.
Judging became complex, a matter of subtle differences. Was it more
favorable to be dressed like a tiger or was it better to plant sunflowers
in the cart? Difficult question.
Excitement rose just before the race began as participants and carts
lined up. And then...go. Everybody was running, laughing and sometimes
even falling in, on or under their carts. Some overachieving participants
had their eyes on the prize and focused on mechanics. That’s
why Santa Claus didn’t just roll all jolly-like in his cart
but rather pedaled and steered with handlebars on a bicycle-cart
hybrid vehicle. After a ferocious struggle, this year’s winner
was a sidecar cart. (To make your own, take a cart, take a bike,
hook them together, ride your bike as usual.)
That one may have won in terms of speed, but another beat them all
for creativity. The racers hooked three carts together and laid
a mattress across the top. On the mattress road one guitar player
and one transvestite. Palm fronds sprouted from the sides. Two women
pushed and steered. It was like a demented chariot.
Then it was over, at least until next August. Fleetwood. Be there.
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