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Julianna TschirhartI have a confession to make. I haven’t been to the Auto Show in a few years. Okay, maybe over a decade. Like any child growing up in the environs of the Motor City, the Auto Show was the social event of the season. We’d drive downtown, park in a far-flung surface parking lot where men bundled in heavy coats against the Midwestern January cold waved us to the right spot with brightly colored flags, and take the crowded People Mover between the skyscrapers to our destination. Cobo Hall was vast, bigger than any place I had ever been, full of people, fried food, and of course – cars – ones where I was allowed to hop in the driver’s seat and full of that glorious new car smell. Read More…



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