A driving sound of a 1950s-style rockabilly band spills from the Handlebar. The music rolls out to the blocked-off street and mixes with the growl of rat rod engines. Children run between scrap-metal bumpers as men and women lean over open hoods, talking shop and admiring the weld lines of the vintage cars lined up for public viewing. Spring’s blossoming ligustrum hangs in the air among the gasoline, grease, and grit.