What It’s Like Judging The World’s Best Worst Car Show

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I remember once, long ago, when I was still young and beautiful and full of hope, back when I worked at the Old Site. I think a number of us writers were in some AirBnB while we were on a work trip to some car show, and a few of us were up late, drinking and talking and whatevering. One of the people there was everyone’s favorite Fancy Person and a dear friend, Kristen Lee. I remember we were all talking about cars, as usual, and the sorts of cars we tend to talk about, when Kristen interrupted, and with some degree of bafflement or exaggeration, asked “why do you all like terrible cars?” It was a valid question, and I’m sad to say I’m not sure we ever found a reasonable answer for her. But I know she was right, also: I do love terrible cars. And I can’t help it. And this could be a miserable situation, save for one bit of very good news: I’m not alone. Not by a long shot. In fact, there are many of us, and the multitudes of Terrible Car Fetishists have a wonderful way to celebrate our sickness every year: The Concours D’Lemons. I was a judge again this year, and, as always, it was fantastic.

One of the best things about the Concours D’Lemons is when and where it happens every year: right smack dab in the middle of Monterey Car Week, both physically and temporally, the perfect antidote to seeing so very, very many wildly expensive and rare cars that you’re lucky to be sharing any physical volume of space with. A human can only take so much wealth and class before the body will start rejecting all that refinement, and you need to experience some real garbage, some real phoned-in half-assery or really poorly considered engineering or design choices, or just some honest, forthright automotive crap to set your body’s delicate balance of humors back in order. You can see how great it is in the video below:

This year I was a judge for the Rust Belt American Junk – GM category, and we awarded our prize to a woman who has owned a ’93 Geo Metro Convertible since new and drives that tiny little charming crapcan every single day. It’s adored, likely in a way no Geo has ever been adored by anyone, ever.

You’ll see that at the Concours as well: unloved heaps that have been loved all their lives and are often the finest surviving examples of their generally unloved breed. That’s why you can see a pristine Chevy Vega, and inspect its fascinating taillights:

Vegatail

You know why they’re fascinating? Because the amber center turn indicator section does nothing, because GM was too damn cheap. There’s no bulb behind there! It’s all an absurd lie!

The Concours D’Lemons is also the only place to see trunk hinges so fuzzy and furry that they make you feel uncomfortable inside:

Fuzzyhinge

And it’s where you can see a Volkswagen Karmann Ghia that had literally been dug out of the dirt days ago, and still managed to get to the show under its own power, complete with a very desiccated, low-energy ex-mammal in the trunk:

Deadpossumghia

The Concours D’Lemons is also one of the few places where even hardened, jaded, veteran car geeks can see things they never knew existed, like the Bear Cub microcar, a re-badged Bond Microcar for the American Market, and a colossal failure:

Bearcub

You can see all this stuff and so so much more in the video we shot, which is about as close as you can get to actually being there without having to deal with the likely-required tetanus inoculations and the stench of people like myself. So scroll back up and watch it if you haven’t, because I promise you’ll see some fascinating cars there.

Car shows don’t need to be about money or status at all. In fact, I think you may be able to argue that the more contempt for status and showiness, the better the car show, which would likely make the Concours D’Lemons the finest car show in the world.

That seems about right, to me.

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Mercedes Streeter

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46 thoughts on “What It’s Like Judging The World’s Best Worst Car Show”

  2. I love the sheer audacity that these weird, often bad cars exist at all. I’ve been given the advice of “keep existing out of spite, then” in response to my assorted existential crises, and goshdarnit, this is the car version of that.

    Too many cars are too normal nowadays. Give me the sicko stuff I haven’t heard about, or things that were just such colossal flops that any survivors become lovable lil’ weirdos. There’s always cars that just do things a bit off-kilter, too—ideas that have since become standardized, but that were tried in numerous oddball ways before then. Early tech is fascinating! Really, I just love the dead branches on the automotive family tree the most. Pump the weird stuff directly into my veins.

    Also, where does Beau stand on DAF vs. FAF? The world must know.

  4. Concours d’Lemons was a highlight of Car Week for me when I went in the prior decade. I saw highly personalized cars, the person who loved a car almost nobody else gave a damn about and cars that answer transportation questions nobody asked. But more than anything, it was such a contrast to so many of the other events in that it clearly didn’t take itself too seriously.

  6. Terrible cars also make for the best times.

    The very abbreviated story here is that I had a primer grey 1972 Cadillac Hearse. You’d touch it and you’d get grey chalk on your hands.

    Circa 1992, my band played at Art Fair in A2 at noon, and then had an evening gig in Cleveland.

    Many advertures along the way that day, but the best was the keyboard player complaining the whole trip there about the car, we’re gonna die, etc. etc.

    We get to the gig, and it was at a yacht club in Cleveland. The event was sponsored by BMW, so they had all the new cars set up around the parking lot, which also backed up to the water. Beautiful boats in the harbor, and all the beautiful people were milling about with their champagne and caviar.

    We pull in with this beast of a car, and heads turned, glasses dropped, the swarm of people parted to let us through, and the same guy who was complaining the whole way there turned to me and said “Forget everyting I said about the car. This is great!”

    And you know what? The people at the party LOVED IT!!

    They couldn’t get enough of the car, they thought it hilarious, they thought we were a hoot for driving it there. They loved the music, They fed us, took us on the boats, etc. Good times…

  7. While I kind of understand Kristin’s comment, I also understand that she can be a bit “fancy”. This might be biasing her view of what constitutes a terrible car.

    But, one person’s terrible is another person’s fascinating.

  8. Let us talk about the Strada/Ritmo a little quick. It’s not any – it’s a Bertone Pallinuro. The Pallinuro was a spacial edition with funky colors and actually built by Bertone in Turin. If oyu head over to my Intsagram, there is a full feature about it.

  10. A pristine modern car has precisely zero character. It never does anything unexpected. You don’t need to modify yourself in order to fit it’s demands

    An old beater demands to be understood and, in return, it showers you with unique delight

    If I were rich I’d own a manual swapped V10 RS6 wagon, but I’d probably mostly drive old Civics or Datsuns

  12. Taillight trivia – the Vega’s amber lenses were fake, but the Chevette’s were not as this video shows; https://youtu.be/2anPsAQSOFI?t=82
    (And was the Vega taillight article the last one Torch ever wrote for the old site?)

    And I’d never heard of the Sharp’s Bear Cub before although I’d seen pics of the UK-market Bond Minicar.

  13. We have a local space that just opened up where they have room for consignment cars for sale, or a controlled space to store them There is one technician that has their own space there too (currently working on a vintage Corvette and 356 Porsche). They held a gathering, not a car show per se, just bring your car, get a hot dog, and hang out. We have some spectacular cars in this area, and some of them came out for the event. Me? I drove my ’64 F100 crewcab with paint peeling off the left side if you come close to it. To the technician there, mine was the absolute best vehicle around. The tech used to live up the hill from me and drove by the truck all the time. Then I drove in to his place last night. So excited to actually see the truck up close. Tech knows Ford trucks so I learned a lot about my truck last night. Turns out it was a late ’64 build so it has a bunch of stuff that was designed for the ’65 model. I never knew! Tech has a rare ’64 longbed four wheel drive F100 that I didn’t get to see.

  16. I’ve been to seven of these over the years and have never not had a good time. I’ve only had to push two cars onto the show field, of which only one was my own, so I’m feeling pretty good about the whole thing.

  17. Muscle cars are cool, so are the things I’ve only driven in video games, but crap cars are just freaking fun. Remember a car show I went to and there was a crowd around one car, couldn’t see what it was. Got there and lo and behold, a pristine, low miles Plymouth TC3.

  18. Good cars are easy. Its easy to say it has X power, it is Y fast, the paint was applied by a hermit who only comes out at midnight to apply the paint with a brush made with the hair of a unicorn.

    Bad cars are WAAAAY more fun. Have you ever been on a bad date? Where at the time, it was awful, but afterwords, it makes for a great story? Or have you ever been made the fool? Sometimes, you celebrate the misses.

    No one ever wants a bad car. You spend good money, you want something good. You want it reliable. But today I saw a Pacer with a factory hood ornament. Like we were supposed to go “Say, that’s FANCY!” I have owned a Oldsmobile Diesel that was objectively an excellent car, except for the engine, which was so bad that my friend beat me in a race, on foot, for 2 blocks. I had a Citation where you have to keep some bottles of water in the car and a heavy glove becuase you’ll have to fill up the radiator.

    They didn’t set out to fail. Sometimes, it happens. And there is nobility in the effort, and anyone keeping them on the road is a legend.

    2. I went on a date where I witnessed a drug deal and the guy snorted meth off his phone. Nothing worse than a date where the guy goes “oh no, I forgot my pipe!”

      I’m not sure what car that would be equivalent to but it is a great story.

  19. That’s “Concours,” unless the business travel software company is branching into new ventures.

    Also it should be noted that the show travels around the country, the one in Monterey isn’t the only one, but as you said it’s a great antidote to the ridiculous of Car Week there where one can easily get tired of seeing McLarens driving around.

    But yeah, it’s one of my favorite shows. I last went in 2019 and volunteered to help with parking. I too appreciate ridiculously cared for versions of otherwise unloved cars. At the last one I attended I saw what has to be the very nicest Yugo GVX convertibles left in existence.

    1. I did one. About 11 years ago. Have been wanting to do more, but finances haven’t allowed. You need to do it! Check the website: forums.24hoursoflemons.com. You can find teams that are looking for drivers.

    2. Do it. I just completed one last weekend after a 4 year hiatus and it reminded me how fun it is.

      But this article is about the Concours d’Lemons to be clear, which is part of the Lemons family but not the same as the races.

          1. I’ve competed [sensu lato] in seven of the concours, twelve of the races, and four of the rallies. My advice, therefore, is to spend all of your free time and money, plus just a little bit more, on all of them.

        2. Indeed. It’s the only Lemons event I haven’t attended yet, although when I attended Concours d’Lemons in 2019 that was also the ending point for the rally. Definitely need to do one sometime, I love road trips.

  21. From what I can see of the paint on the Geo, the car is in great shape. I can’t remember the last time I saw one on the road, but I’d wager it’s been decades.

    If it’s a Ghia, shouldn’t the dead mammal be in the frunk?

  23. I share [Fancy] Kristen’s incredulity at the appeal of terrible vehicles, but what really piqued my interest in this story was the concept of sharing a great big AirBnB with a gaggle of coworkers on a business trip. On the one hand, it might be nice to be able to hang out and shoot the bull with coworkers while relaxing in a comfortable living room at the end of the day compared to retiring to a small hotel room and watching The Late Show alone. On the other hand, I am introverted by nature, and after spending all day working with people and then eating dinner with those same people, I may need some alone time in order to recharge.

    What was it like? Were Jello-picnic business trips one big party? Were they completely insufferable? Something in between?

    2. Our department at work has done a few small trips where we’ve rented a house instead of hotel rooms. It’s a lot of sitting around, talking, usually some cold beer and some sort of BBQ. They’re great fun BUT they would get really old if you did them a lot, some times you definitely need that time alone after a workday.

  24. There’s also a special pleasure in sneaking in the worst car at any proper car show. Organizers are very excited to showcase my cars until they actually see them.

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