In the 1950’s, young dudes in cool cars from that era would drag race and cruise Woodward Ave in Royal Oak, looking for chicks. It was cool, the end.
With the advent of hook up culture, cruising went the way of the Dodo.
We went from driving straight to swiping right so the only Woodward cruising today should be through a Starbucks on the way to buying an expensive cyclist costume uniform.
In 1995 a group of car aficionados thought it would be a fun tribute to cruise along Woodard Ave for a single weekend in August. It brought out many old timers and restored classic beauties. (cars not wives) It was tolerable for many years, almost embraced as a delightful, yet somewhat geriatric traffic jam.
As of 2025, with the 30th anniversary upon us, this formerly tolerable gathering of respectful car enthusiasts has devolved into the biggest nuisance in Oakland County since the great power outage of 2003. Remember where you were? It is highly disruptive to anyone within earshot of the 13 & Woodward corridor. Simply put, the all-summer long surplus cruisers have become a festering boil on the ass of Royal Oak. Ask any local resident about being forced to plan their lives around this hellscape. Unlike politics or religion, you won’t lose friends over it, you may even bond over family dinner.
That is, if you can hear one another over the cruiser noise pollution.
Ahh, the original and classic cruiser we all know and barely tolerate. He’s the self-styled car buff whose current dating profile name on Plenty of Fish is “TomCruiser69”. This jean-short, flip flop wearing sad sack means well; he just can’t help showing off his greatest accomplishment: The restoration of a 1969 Plymouth Roadrunner. He didn’t intentionally plan on this ground swell of gridlock when this B.S. started 30 years ago. We give this guy a pass because he had to upgrade his data plan to film all the other breathtaking muscle cars crawling down Woodward at the speed of smell. To his credit, he is somewhat courteous, paying unfair child support, and recently had colon polyps removed.
This rebel without a pause doesn’t stop. He is the nouveau breed of young, spoiled, speed racer. This blast from the present is not from around here, yet he pollutes our entire neighborhood with the obnoxiously loud exhaust and tire squeals from his new Dodge Charger Hellcat. Wow, simply enthralling but it’s Woodward Ave not the Chelsea Proving Grounds, cheese dick. These ass-worms rev their engines into the wee small hours, as if they’re in the climactic ending of the 20th Fast & Furious movie. Fun fact: Unless it’s pouring down raining, every evening off Woodward is just like those movies, except without all that great acting. Bravo for finding a co-signer for that $1,200 lease payment, and good luck paying for car insurance, Tristan.
This teen daredevil loves to weave recklessly in and out of traffic. This sagging-pants baddy finds the earsplitting peel-outs from his Ninja 500 titillating. This not only causes panic among lawful drivers, but apparently a tingling in his balls, which have likely not descended yet. If we’re lucky, he’ll be joined by his inconsiderate gang of fellow pubescent Cheesy Riders, treating the entire neighborhood to an all-night 500cc symphony. By midnight, they’ll top if off with the final roar of a crotch rocket crescendo that’ll loosen your fillings. He should tell his underage girlfriend, if she’s not going to wear a helmet, she should at least wear underwear. She better hold on tight because this bad boy’s pure gangsta, straight outta Clawson.
Any given Saturday this is the typical spectacle of folks who descend on Royal Oak like a colony of insects, proudly “cruising” in their prized classics. Despite what local news says (see Cruise News) these cruisers think this insufferable cluster f—k is enjoyable for the powerless, tax paying residents stuck in the inescapable hub of Woodward & anywhere. It’s miserable, as we watch our cityscape ravaged by this menacing, yet celebrated motorcade. Many locals are forced to leave town as they are besieged by these buffoons. If given the choice, most of us would rather dry shave our own ass and sit in a bowl of Smirnoff, than suffer through another season of Dream Cruise mania. When fleeing north to escape this clownish cavalcade, if area residents don’t leave by noon on Friday, they’re f---d. The only good thing these guys drive is higher value for up north real estate
Cruisers who pack gas stations and crowd the pumps creating long lines and short tempers. Having ten old clunkers hijack a Gas Station parking lot sucks for business owners. Furthermore, to avoid soiling their cargo shorts, the elder cruisers monopolize the gas station bathrooms due to the sheer volume of enlarged prostates in one concentrated area. Shining up those clunkers in the sweltering heat makes those old timers have to piss like a new puppy. Footnote: Gassholes aged 80 and above are known as ‘Fossil Fuelers’.
A vast swarm of people in lawn chairs and tents set up in an endless landscape to gawk, blissfully mesmerized at slow moving cars. The goal: take pics of them as they creep along..slowly..for hours..in a never ending traffic jam. Good thing they got there early to get a good spot! It’s kind of like Occupy Wallstreet but without all the piercings or personal hygiene issues. In the future, instead of occupying Woodward, try occupying elsewhere.
It’s an H2 Hummer and there are entire websites and memes devoted to roasting it, so thanks GM for providing such an easy target. It is however, the 6,500 lb combustion engine counter point to all EV virtuosity.
I won’t go too hard at it other than to say it should come with a glove box full of Viagra and a credit for one free life coaching webinar. Please sign up for the session that focuses on containing hubris that’s more inflated than those H2 tires. For this climate criminal, you surely won’t be ‘saving the planet’, so try saving your money.
Car enthusiasts moonlighting as independent film makers, who congregate in retail parking lots. They inadvertently block business entry ways, making it a nuisance to enter. Game plan: to film old cars in traffic. Good luck ordering the "wreck" from Potbelly, as another type of wreck awaits. You may be accosted by a bunch of loitering teen zombies, iPhone filming that forthcoming blockbuster, “Slow Moving Old Cars” while scouting locations for its sequel, “Still stuck in Traffic”. It’s the same live-action footage we’ve been forced to watch for the last 30 years. Here’s the plot: It sucks and would be rightfully nuked on IMDb.
I’d like to suggest some titles befiting the groundbreaking work of these Twat-waffles
A group of vehicles typically packed in retail parking lots, tighter than illegals in a U-haul, all lined up like pretty maids in a row. Take note – they will be parked in unison, every hood propped up, as the smell of Armor All and body odor permeates the night air. This is to flaunt their shiny, souped-up engines, begging the age-old question: Are they street legal? Are they not? The mere thought of this allure leaves all without words.. or anywhere to park.
Someone who brings their old, dilapidated ‘classic’ car, held together with Bondo and Scotch Tape in hopes of unloading it. It’s a pathetic attempt to sell it to any gullible, boozed-up wanderer with access to $500 cash, but not to CARFAX. Before he forks over the cash, we hope that tipsy spectator finds a Wi-Fi hotspot and a safe ride home. Here’s a Tip: Don’t let him talk you into the leasing option for $.50/month with zero down and no credit needed.
That Cruiser whose car breaks down at the most inopportune time. He promised his wife that unlike the last cruise, this year his ‘62 Ford Falcon would run perfectly. Now he is left stranded on Woodward, hood propped up and bewildered in an unbearable traffic jam. He can’t tell if the honking horns are directed at him, or just an oblivious display of delight from the mob of cruisers. One thing’s for sure, the approaching flatbed from Bob Adams Towing is for him, along with all the mockery and middle fingers.
These are pale faced, recently licensed teens who are baked on healthy alternative Kush gummies from LIV. Released from the basement for the evening to feel part of anything social, they’re just trying to stay within the lanes while tripping on the latest weed strain: “Boy Scout Cookies”. Sadly, their level of paranoia from synthetic THC won’t allow them to relinquish the white-knuckled ‘10 and 2’ position on the steering wheel. They are flummoxed by the cars whizzing by at 3MPH. Adding to their misfortune - the White Castle at 13 and Coolidge is now a Smoothie King that closes at 9pm. Grab some Visine at Walgreens and head home boys. Your eyes look like two piss holes in a snowbank and the interior of your vehicle smells like a Family Dollar.
Rude, uncivil jack holes who force the entire neighborhood to the 100+ decibel level of extreme bass-booming from their 1970 Pontiac GTO. These thunderous, unrecognizable “tunes” leave some of us with short term hearing loss and others left wondering, “was that DMX or Neil Diamond?” Ironically, it forces the extremely loud bass offenders and obnoxious engine revers to battle for the ultimate crown of noise pollution supremacy. Zero likes from neighborhood insomniacs.
This is a Dream Cruise Groupie. She’s looking to hook up at the Shell gas station and likely will, given that her Grindr handle is “AssforGass”. She’s a post-80’s, video vixen harpy, who finds the exhaust from a ‘68 Chevelle aphrodisiacal. You can usually find her taking trout pout selfies at pump 9. She should probably extinguish her cigarette and prepare for her weekly call from the Friend of the Court. If she’s feeling particularly frisky, you may be able to talk a Droupie into a 3 way with a Gasshole which is known as a ‘Catalytic Converter’. FYI, her safe word is Valvoline.
All local news coverage of this event, replete with nauseatingly cheery and distorted coverage. Local news babes typically fawn over this event with a two-minute spot like it’s a religious pilgrimage, never once focusing on the irritating impact it has on the locals. Once their gleeful coverage is complete, they get the f--k out like a Medivac out of Vietnam. They rarely veer from their radiant blather so just cut and paste this verbatim language for every story on every channel: “Wow, this is happening again this year! Amazing, look at all these cars. Truly amazing. Back to you, Bill”… honk, honk, vroom, vroom.
