There were two car clubs in the park Sunday, parked smack center in the memorial day weekend. They were smaller clubs; the bigger of the two was about fifteen cars, though the number changed as people drove away or arrived. Before we arrived, I saw a pair of powder-sparkly blue vintage cars driving away down Scott Avenue. The fancy cars parked along Academy on the west side of Stadium Way were Chevy Impalas of different decades. Candy-colored. One of the car guys said candy color clubs are on their way out. At least for now. It’s a matter of technology. The cars are painted with lacquer paint, which are being replaced with water-based paints, as required by new environmental laws. A man named Fernando told Cindy Bennett, who visited the park with Madeleine, my daughter, and me, that the candy colors are not available in environmentally improved paints.

A couple of families had brought tents and relaxed while their cars were admired. Others sat in the shade of huge ash trees, while a roving mariachi band played requests at a few dollars per song.

One of the Impalas was a light, dusty gold-silver with white walls and hydraulics and an airbrushed scene on the trunk, the airbrushing in shades of black and gray – a bad ass vision of heaven. In the center: a cholo with wings floating in the clouds and holding a very large semi-automatic firearm in two hands. He was surrounded by a curling ribbon with names: Mom, Dad, Julian, Lilliana…. Beneath him, in the foreground, was scenes of urban LA: a grffiti-covered Metrolink train, an alleyway with phone wires and small buildings. A large skull with a clown nose and clown accordion collar. And a bit higher in the picture was a gangster-looking guy with a hat and a revolver.

None of the other cars had pictures. Just super-fine leather in different colors, TVs installed near the dashboard, pin-striping and, always, the paint job.

Across the street, it was barbecues and parties, a lively scene. There even was a church event. The Church of Fallen Fruit had a banner sign in English and Korean. There was a minister who used a music stand as a pulpit, preaching to a congregation on folding chairs. About twenty congregants, all of them Asian paid worship amid the volleyball parties and grilling burgers.