Sunday, September 12, 2021

Florida, Oddly Enough -- Dorothy Dolores

 


 
This old Pontiac reminded me of other cars I've been in, at other times. When I was small my dad would set me on his lap and let me steer the chrome and knob laden vehicle down the gravel drive to my grandparents' home.
Sitting in the backseat of cars like these, no seat belts, balancing comic books and small icy cold bottles of Coke with salted peanuts dumped inside, my sister and I were carted between Rock Hill and Greenville, SC. The radio would provide fodder for our imaginations as the secret lives of grownups, sometimes tawdry and depressing, Please Release Me Rambling Rose, and sometimes joyous, Let's Do The Twist, shaped our psyches through those lyrics,  beats, and melodies. So much of life occurred riding atop a chassis speeding down highways, country roads, and city streets.
 
 
In a few short years drastic style changes would be upon us. Those satisfying ivory colored bakelite push knobs, which we were allowed to "mash" for our parents when allowed to ride up front, would be no more. The sticky hot marbelized upholstery would be replaced with scratchy cloth, which would leave its imprint on the cheeks arms, and legs of napping children. Thankfully, the vent windows would still be included which allowed fresh air to be angled back and across the car, a heaven sent feature for passengers prone to car sickness. I'd like to see those make a comeback. 
 
 

In the US we spend a lot of time in cars compared with the rest of the world. Someday when I have the leisure, I'd like to find a good coffee table book with loads of photos of car interiors from over the years. I apologize for the quality of today's photos. There was no way to reduce the glare in these pictures which I hurriedly took not knowing how long the owners would be away from their vehicle. It was a satisfying peek into the past.
 

May your memories be pleasant and your travels safe during the week ahead.
~Dorothy Dolores


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