Deep down, in my thirteen-year-old heart, I love cars like this. They speak to raw power and fun and shininess. Loud noises and pretty curves. The lines are fun to follow. It’s why, despite our need to cut our dependence on fossil fuels, these cars can bring out 15000 people on a weekend to wander around Chilliwack’s downtown and inspire them to daydream.
Actually, I think it needs a lot of work.
Actually…I don’t think it’ll ever run again.
It is beautiful, in a twisted, rusty, never work again kind of way.
I took a little walk down the street from where I live tonight and snapped these two photos, which I processed and then merged in an up and down diptych. There is an RCMP training center here and they have all of these police cars sitting in a compound waiting to be turned into patrol cars. I shot them through the fence and the whole time I kept thinking that I’d arouse some suspicion, seeing as there are signs everywhere like the one above: NO TRESPASSING. I know that I wasn’t trespassing, but I was hanging around with a camera and maybe that’s enough to get in trouble.
Sheesh. I’m turning into such an adult.
This is beauty in car form. This is the headlight of a 1957 Oldsmobile car. It makes me smile. The little rocket ships above the headlight on the fender make me smile even more. I’m sure that some salesman back in 1957 used the line that these little babies make the car more aerodynamic, but I’m also sure they do nothing but look cool.
I bought my car in 2004. As I drove it home, I thought I saw many other drivers driving the same car as I had just purchased. It turned out that they all looked the same, but were made by other manufacturers. They were all grey and boxy. No curves. No sex appeal.
The ’57 Olds? Tons of sexiness. The fenders. The chrome. The curve of the bumper. The people who designed this car wanted Marilyn Monroe in car form: lots of curves and big…uh… headlights. I think they succeeded.