|
 I
attended a popular car show over Memorial Day weekend. This show has
always brought in great numbers of exhibitors of collector cars as
well as a huge swap meet. What a great time it was to appreciate the
antique, classic, and enduring cars. The rock ‘n roll music blasted
over the intercom and there was a hum of excitement as novel
vehicles rolled in to take their place in history. It was a
multi-generational event. This year’s was much smaller. Both with
the exhibits and the crowd. That’s because we geezers, coots, and
codgers are a dying breed. I can say that because I’m a Boomer. You
youngsters may call me a retiree, mature adult, or my favorite…..Queenager!
Many of the gatherings have turned into niche events specializing in
certain car models and years. Phooey! I want it all! I want to walk
around in a maze of car history that overwhelms my mind. I want my
feet yearning to dance to the pounding songs of my youth. I want to
be slurping on an RC Cola as Ray Stevens wails, “…jumped off Clyde,
snuck around the corner and into the tent he went. There he saw
Fatima laying on a Zebra skin rug with rings on her fingers and
bells on her toes and a bone in her nose, ho, ho” Yes! Those are
great lyrics.
Across the way I noticed one of the ugliest vehicles I have ever
seen. It was brown and rusty and not even good enough to be
considered a rat rod. I took my sweet time going over to see it.
Now, I’m not the car enthusiast my Mac was, but even knowing what I
learned from him by osmosis told me this was a mismatched
Frankenstein of a car. It made my teeth itch. I strolled over to it,
took one look at its entry plaque and fell in love with it.
It was a car built from parts from the ‘50s throughout the ‘70s! It
was a car after Johnny Cash’s own heart. He sang about it in his
song, “One Piece at a Time.” Written in 1976 by Wayne Kemp and
recorded by Johnny and the Tennessee Three it became Cash’s last #1
hit on the Billboard Hot Country Singles chart and reached No. 29 on
the Billboard Hot 100.
It was a patchwork quilt of a car. I could only stand and stare in
appreciation of the time, work and technology that had gone into it.
Cash’s song talks about him stealing parts while working on the
Detroit ‘sembly line. Then come the lines of the result of his
thievery and mechanical ability.
“The transmission was a ’53 and the motor turned out to be a ’73 and
when we tried to put in the bolts all the holes were gone. So, we
drilled it out so that it would fit and with a little bit of help
with an adapter kit. We had the engine runnin’ just like a song. Now
the headlight was another sight. We had two on the left and one on
the right, but when we pulled out the switch all three of ‘em come
on” “You’ll know it’s me when I come through your town. I’m gonna
ride around in style. I’m gonna drive everybody wild ‘cause I’ll
have the only one there is around. Well, it’s a ’49, ’50, ’51, ’52,
’53, ‘54’ 55’, 56’,57, 58’ 59’ automobile. It’s a ’60, ’61, ’62,’63,
‘64’ 65m ‘’66, ’67, ’68, ’68, ’70 automobile.”
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I wish I had spent more time studying the monstrosity. I don’t
remember the interior and pieces and parts keep floating through my
mind that were attached to this beautiful atrocity of a car. I’m
sorry you all didn’t get to see it with me.
I bought a handmade apron for my granddaughter and a kitchen towel
with a crochet loop for my friend. It was fun digging through old
Hot Wheel cars and watching youngsters selling Pokémon cards. There
were antiques galore. Tires, wheels, hubcaps, steering wheels and
everything imaginable were for sale. You just had to match up the
odds and ends, bits and bobs, and components. All that was needed
was to find the elements for your car…….and have the money to pay
for it. Big detail there. Again, build your car, one piece at a time
if need be.
I’m not trying to give you the impression I’m knowledgeable about
cars. My Mac would ask me to check the engine of our car as we
prepared for a trip. I’d proudly pop the hood and proclaim, “Yep!
It’s still here!” He was so patient with me.
My husband also loved all the old car songs and knew every lyric. He
could sing Jan and Dean’s “The Little Old Lady (From Pasadena),”
“GTO” by Ronny and the Daytonas, Chuck Berry’s “No Particular Place
to Go”, “Hot Rod Lincoln,” Charlie Ryan and the Timberline Riders,
the Rip Chords, “Hey Little Cobra”, and any other song in the 50’s
and 60’s that sang about a car. Ask him the date of our anniversary
and he had to ponder.
“What do you call a classic car that’s been to the gym? A
muscle-car.”
“Why did the classic car get a ticket? It was caught speeding down
memory lane.”
“A rendezvous with history at every red light.”
“Classics: Books on wheels with stories that thrill.”
“More than cars, they’re capsules of memories.”
As I admired the old cars from yesteryear I couldn’t help but think
that one minute, you’re young and fun and the next minute, you turn
down the radio in the car to see better.
Next time you see a classic car show advertised, take the
opportunity to visit history via vintage cars. You will love
learning about the resurrection of our prized classic cars as
mechanics lovingly rebuild them one piece at a time.
L. Maxine McQueen may be contacted at
maxmac.1@juno.com |
