It’s a strange thing to witness a future glimpse of your own (somewhat fastidious) self… This will surely be me when I approach my Golden years. In fact, I don’t think I’ll have to wait that long…
She still changes the oil and spark plugs and maintains its beautiful exquisiteness all by herself to this very day. I love the ending shot that shows her little red slip-on being used for entering the vehicle so that she doesn’t scuff up the running boards – I keep something similar within my old BMWs so as to not filth-up the original carpets… I’m not crazy..! Honest..! Just caring for my baby..!
Admittedly, not the usual type of oversteering, tire-smoking, adrenelin-packed, vintage-related posting on here – it just simply warms the petrolheaded heart… and that’s reason enough.
My parents often talk of, reminisce and relate amusing tales of their younger years (specifically, their teenage driving years in the 1950’s) when almost everything was cloaked in a veil of ‘fun times ahead’ sprinkled with an overall dash of ‘everything’s-gonna-be-juuust-fine’… You know – gleaming post-war stuff, when times were far simpler, less crowded and complicated (I’d be down for that) and opportunities were embellished with an open-wide feeling of hope and (at times, manufactured) happiness.
Fridges for every home. A garage for every man. Nylons for every woman. A baseball mitt for every little Jimmy. A dolly for every little Susie…
Ok, so maybe that’s grabbing into the catalogue of 1950’s societal stereotypes with slightly naive eyes and ears, but I’ve always found it fascinating to look back at the outlandish automotive styling efforts (and ads) of this ‘carefree’ era when only a high-school science exam would induce any sort of maniacal co2 concerns and rear wings on cars were, well… actual wings.
Here’s a glance back to that unforgettable Golden Age of American motoring…