Greaser

I used to hate American cars with a passion.  Their horrible styling, obtrusive angles and unnecessary lines make them quite ugly cars to begin with. The interior design on most is less than par, not to mention they are much less reliable than most Japanese cars.  But there is one problem, I am only speaking of new cars.

That being said, I have always been in love with all things vintage. In my mind, I live in an era where everyone dresses a little nicer, talks a little more suave, and carburetors were not a thing of the past.  This fascination with old things has surely grown over the years, and has extended to vintage American cars. Yes, I said it, I do love me some classic American muscle!

When I first saw this car, the little butterflies in my stomach started fluttering around. Love at first sight is not something that everyone believes in. I do.  I had no idea what it was, nor did I care. I wanted to hike up my jeans, slick back my hair, and put on a plain white T with rolled up sleeves and hop in and go for a drive to the soda shop, don't forget the nickel for the jukebox!



This thing screams character. First off, it seems to be daily driven. I see it almost every time I go downtown, and all I can do is marvel at this work of art.

Hand painted pinstriping, rust on the rocker panels, red spray painted wheels, a rusty 1965 license plate, shrunken head hanging from the rearview, and Mexican "poncho" blankets covering the seats.



I hope that people will begin to recognize that more vintage automobiles need to be preserved. There is a certain feeling you get from walking around an automobile like this, and even more, driving it.  The smelly gas, the half-gone-but-still-lingering smell of cigarettes, the creaks, the groans, the joy of having it start up on a cold day and trying to keep it from stuttering.  Ahh victory! There is nothing more satisfying.