I have never written about cars. Ever. But for some reason I feel compelled to write about them today. Okay…I sort of know the reason — I visited The Peterson Automotive Museum last Saturday when large public spaces were open to the public! Let’s just say I was Auto-motivated…haha. Here’s a link to the museum:
Cars are not only fun to drive (I’m one of those who love driving) but they are stylish marvels that offer us freedom and the open road. When I compare the old fashioned horse and buggy with where we are today, it is mind boggling. Who would have thought 100 years ago that we would be streaming music through Pandora, cruise controlling or not even needing human drivers at all to get from one place to another? I can only imagine where we will be 100 years from now — flying cars, cars that talk, driverless highways. Aliens are our friends?
Cars are also nostalgic. The surprising thing that came out of my trip to the museum was the realization of how integral cars are to my personal history. I was born in 1960…so that puts a time line prospective on my experience. Visiting the museum, I had no idea how much cars meant to me! Then I remembered being ten years old and crying my eyes out when my family traded in our green Mercury Montego. I still remember driving away from the dealership, looking back at what had been our family car parked in the lot…for me it was like losing a beloved pet. (Fun fact: the Montego name is after Montego Bay, Jamaica. Who knew?)
My dad traded the Montego for a used Cadillac (used was the term for a pre-owned car back in the day), so I shouldn’t complain too much. The Cadillac had automatic windows — a BIG DEAL then. Boy, did I love messing with those windows! Up, down, up, down…I played with them as much as I could before I got yelled at. Before either of those cars, however, we owned a 1950s Pontiac, which was also used and we appropriately called “The Clinker,” as it was on its last legs (tires?), so to speak. It looked something like this:
Can you imagine if we had kept that car and restored it, how much it would be worth today? The weird thing is that I actually remember sitting in this car with my parents. I sat in the middle — before seatbelts were de rigueur — and would often put my head down on my mom’s lap to take a nap. The good ol’ days, right?
When I see this car I’m also nostalgic for the old TV Series “Highway Patrol” with Broderick Crawford. I loved the grainy atmosphere of this show because it was pure Americana; it also seemed as if the setting of the Western open road was a character in and of itself. A character that was dangerous, mysterious, and yet, full of adventure. The show was a starting ground for many prominent actors, as well. Here is a clip that features one of my favs, Clint Eastwood:
Also at the museum was this itty bitty beauty:
Okay, so of all the amazing cars at the museum why would I take a picture of a Volkswagon Beetle? Two reasons. First of all, I loved the Herbie movies in the 1960s about the talking VW affectionately known as “The Love Bug”. I honestly don’t remember that much about the movies, but they left me with an upbeat, happy feeling. Herbie was A) cute as a button, and B) a hero with a big heart/engine. Here he is:
The second reason was my first boyfriend in High School drove a yellow VW. Seeing his car chugging noisily down the street to pick me up always made me very happy! (Unfortunately, the VW was commissioned in the 1930s by Adolf Hitler as “The people’s car.” Boo hiss…So this is a huge mark against it…)
Growing up in Los Angeles during the 1960s-1970s, I was a child of Sunday drives along the Pacific Coast Highway (PCH) with my family. Being the introvert I am, being able to sit for a few hours quietly looking out the window at the ocean was a way to recharge my batteries — though I didn’t know that concept at that time. If we weren’t driving in Santa Monica or Malibu, we were cruising Sunset Boulevard to gawk at the hippies that had taken over the streets there. This was wonderfully portrayed in the film “Once Upon A Time In Hollywood,” which brought to life my Los Angeles in the late 60s.
Another wacky memory-inducing vehicle at the museum:
Batman’s motorcycle. I need this.
Holy Smokes! It’s the Batcycle! Another TV show (do you see a theme here — vehicles and television?) . As a very young child, we lived near 20th Century Fox and other movie studios and it was a common sight to see Batman and Robin romping around in front of the cameras at our local park.
I should confess that now I drive a humble Honda CRV. It is blue; it is practical, reliable and safe. I am planning on taking a road trip this summer in it, that is if we have all survived the Coronavirus scare. I was rear ended about two years ago in my Honda and it weathered the storm beautifully. I have also owned a Toyota Camry, a Mazda, a Ford Focus, a Chevy Malibu and a Grand Marquis. Each one of these cars comes with a significant story behind it — how I acquired it, the places I went with it, and how I bought or sold it. My husband owns two trucks that he needs for his work: a Chevy Colorado and a Ford 1-150 affectionately known as “The War Wagon.”
Cars…trucks…motorcycles…and driving mean a myriad of things to different people. For me, automobiles are more than a means to an end, a way to get from point A to point B. They are a form of self-expression and artistic merit, they are part of the family, they are part of the fabric of a culture, they are above all a symbol of freedom and adventure…endless possibilities that stretch far and wide into the vast horizon.
Perhaps the group Steppenwolf said it best:
“Get your motor runnin’
Head out on the highway
Lookin’ for adventure
And whatever comes our way…”
We were “Born to Be Wild” for sure.
Take care and stay safe whether at home or on the open road.
Cheryl Thatt-Burbank 