Dans Papers - June 1, 2007 - Let's Go Cruisin'

It was a warm, bustling Sunday morning, the first of the Official Hamptons Season. A casual crowd milled about the streets of Amagansett, mostly weekend revelers. The best place to have spent such a thermal, humid day was the beach, of course.

However, in those early morning hours, a particular event was getting ready to unfold in the still drowsy tinsel town, the Annual Bonacker Cruiser Classic Car show.

"The hell with the beach. I wouldn't miss this for the world," declared a portly, handsome gray-haired man. If the one thousand viewers who attended the show attest to its success, then this affair, the seventh annual so far, most probably, will repeat itself infinitely. The classic automobile aficionado typically hosts a fervid passion for these relics, perhaps, because we humans, to some degree, have sentimental inclinations. I once asked a psychiatrist to render an analysis of the motivation that attaches an individual's emotions to the automobiles of yesteryear. She pondered my curious question and soon arrived at a synoptic conclusion. "These vehicles are banks that store and safeguard nostalgic memories of the past -- childhood days, early years of marriage, or perhaps, the inception of a new family." In fact, this author's personal experience parallels the doctor's summation.

By eleven o'clock the visitors had escalated to a dense throng. People of all ages strolled through the parked, gleaming exhibits, and a multitude of camera addicts aimed those devices at their favorite automobiles. Thankfully, there was no shortage of food vendors. The aromas of hotdogs and cooking hamburgers permeated the air. "These people love our hotdogs. Every year, no matter how many I bring along, I always run out of them. They keep lining up until we pack up and go home," said the vendor, a jolly type who ended every sentence in a gurgling laugh.

A host of booths sold memorabilia -- T-shirts, car models, an assortment of car waxes and related products, and vintage automobile posters. It exuded the characteristics of a mini bazaar.

David Samot, a lifetime East Hampton resident, organized the Bonacker Cruiser Classic Car club seven years ago and, so far, the organization has garnered over one hundred members. (According to David, bonacker is the name of the group of local people who first settled East Hampton). Mr. Samot, a devoted vintage automobile enthusiast, carried a proud and hectic demeanor -- he scuttled throughout the site directing his subordinates and answering questions. Numerous viewers were acquainted with him and privileged at that. "Hey Dave, good to see you. Nice turnout today. Good mixture of cars this year. Keep it up, pal," were the compliments of a tall, energetic fan. And indeed, the blend of vehicles charmed everyone. A variety of American Muscle Cars, custom hot rods and a smattering of unique foreign antique autos had comprised the exhibition, approximately two hundred in all.

The gratified owners eagerly exchanged facts and details that pertained to their beloved automobiles, some patiently indulging the viewers as well. "This is a social happenings for us. It's not a contest. There's nothing to win and nothing to loose. We just love to show and talk about our cars," zealously stated Alvin, who displayed a 1969 396 SS Camaro. As he spoke, he continued polishing the red fenders of his darling. Others sat nearby, their vehicles in groups, chatting, eating and beaming with pride.

Mr. Samot had pleasantly surprised this reporter when he had casually made mention of a magnanimous act -- he distributes a significant portion of the proceeds generated by the organization to local families who require financial assistance. In addition, every year he sponsors two to four students at the East Hampton High School. Quite commendable, Mr. Samot.

A radio broadcast enhanced the atmosphere of the occasion. The station WLNG 92.1 transmitted live from the site. The disc jockey, Brian Bannon, a courteous and spirited man, cozily sat in a bus that had an array of broadcasting apparatus inside. In between songs, Brian relayed the ambiance and facts of the affair to the mass radio listeners in a vigorous tone while an assistant, Dana Kallio, randomly interviewed some of the exhibitors in the field, whose conversations Brian put on the air.

The entry fee was five dollars and the cost to register a vehicle in the show, twenty dollars. Reasonable! Local businesses sponsored the event, thereby increasing the revenues. "Each year, we pick up more and more steam," touted the charitable David Somat.

By the late afternoon, everyone seemed sun-drugged -- the viewers drifted about slowly as they welcomed a passing cloud that provided a few minutes of shade. The automobile owners were now tired of talking and polishing. One even dozed as he sat in his blue, foldable chair. Several cars roared to life and their owners drove away, while a group of middle-aged women reverted to discussing family matters. At the 7th Annual Bonacker Cruiser Classic Car Show was disbanding, everyone appeared satisfied and already looking to next year.