And some of the Greatest Generation’s cars are an amazement. For example, the 1959 Chevrolet Biscayne. Here was Chevy’s least expensive model, a get-to-worker, mommy-shopper, kiddie-hauler budget conveyance. And—hydra headlamps, dagger-slit hood scoops, gridiron grill big enough for a cannibal roast with seven chrome nipples down the fifty-yard line, tail lights like the giant fangs of a basilisk and two great hatchet-edged swoops of steel across the trunk lid—it makes the Batmobile look like a Scion xB.
For the record, I’m in total agreement with Mr. O’Rourke. In the photo up above, that’s me standing beside my 1959 Chevy Biscayne, not Mr. O’Rourke. Think 1970 or 1971—that’s when I first owned the car. It was a bit of a rust bucket by the time I got it, but I loved that car and wish the hell I still had it.
I shall return here on Wednesday.
(I think my mother took the picture, but who really knows)