Today as I was leaving my house, I saw a really beautiful cherry-red antique roadster pass by. It was the kind where they lift the flaps on either side of the engine, and you can see it glistening in all its perfectly-polished chrome glory. And a couple seconds later, an orange one following behind it. And a couple seconds later, a yellow one. And then I noticed they all had “funeral” stickers in their front windshields. Then I saw a bright purple one. I didn’t have time to wait any longer to see how many more there were, but the fact that they were driving in the order of the colors of the rainbow is pretty fricking cool. Dang, I wish I had my camera with me.

The burning question that remains in my mind is Who died? Honestly, who has friends with color-coded antique hot-rods that love them so much that they drive them in order for your funeral procession? Or, more specifically, who has a close friend or relative who would arrange that for their relative/friend’s funeral? I would love to know who that guy/gal was.

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