From July through the beginning of September, there was a turquoise Plymouth Belvedere parked along the road on my walk to and from work. Every day as I walked past it, I'd slow down a little to enjoy it. Sometime's I'd reach for it, but I wouldn't touch it, I'd just trace the lines around it, trying to get a sense of the shape.
And then it disappeared.
At first, I just assumed that the owner's work schedule had shifted and that's why I didn't see it anymore. But it wasn't there on weekends, either. One day I ran back to my apartment on my lunch hour and it wasn't there. I figured it was gone for good.
Saturday, walking to the post office, it was back. Parked right where it had sat before, as if it had never left. (Here's a picture I found of one online for those of you who can't picture what a mid-50s Belvedere looks like. It looks a lot like the one I see.)
I've never been much of a car guy. I don't car about power and torque and the rest of the crap that goes on under the hood. I'm not a fan of muscle cars or massive trucks. I have, however, always liked the way that American cars looked in the mid 1950s. They're the cars that make me stop and stare.
There's something about the basic design so many of the cars had that just tickles me. Especially the hood.
So, until it disappears, again, I'll be taking a pause on my walk to and from work to stare at a car. I hope you don't mind.
(And for my mom, here's a 1957 Nash Metropolitan, another beautiful car design. These things were works of art, I tell you.)
4 comments:
Love the Nash!
Thanks so much for the Nash!
I'm not much of a car-person, either, but that was a nice one:)
You can't tell any of my mates that I said that, though.
"And my platform shall be a Nash in every home. But not that creepy mathematician who had the movie made about him starring The Hulks girlfriend and that dude from Gladiator. No. My pledge to you is to supply the car for each home, if you elect me!"
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