4th of July Perfection

Whilst minding mine own business, my neighbor Charlie just phoned and ordered me outside.  And there, across the street........

The most scrumptious '66 Chrysler 300!

Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer................

John Barrymore's 1930 Cord....

.....Just because.

*New, this baby cost 'The Great Profile' $18,000.  In the depression.  Today's money conversion comes in at just under a quarter of a million dollars.  Happy 130th birthday Mr. Barrymore.

Wow!

If you've ever, even once in you life, said, "Oh my, that's a pretty car," then you must watch the clip below.  I'm not kidding.




It's a good thing for L.A. that I'm not a millionaire, because you guys would get pretty sick of seeing me everywhere, everyday, with Donna Lethal riding shotgun!

Turn It On, Wind It Up, Blow It Out - GTO

 

Just thinkin.

Run on vegetable oil, of course.

Baby I Could Drive This Car.

This lovely gold Jaguar somehow puts me in the mind of the Mad, Mod Sixties; Beatles; Carnaby Street; Bespoke suits; Mary Quant; Beverly Hills; Rich Hippies; The Daisy Discotheque, and about a million other delicious things!

 

 

 

Had One.

Besides being the ugliest thing ever on 4 wheels, at 5 months old it developed the cutest little habit of sudden engine shutdown when driving 60 mph on the beltway.
A real honey.

Design For Dreaming

So, you like classic cars?

You like futuristic kitchens?

You like pretty evening gowns?

You like singing and dancing?

You like pretty girls who look like Carolyn Jones?

You like when the boy and girl ride off into the future in the end?

Well then this may just be the movie for you!!!!!!

You might find it easier to download by going directly HERE.

Peacock Blue and White

Correctly.

Contestant number one is this pert and spunky little '56 Thunderbird in it's original condition.  Always a classic.

Incorrectly.

Contestant number two, however, is this modified '76 Caddy.  Extended front quarter panels (acting as horse blinders to the headlights), the 'I've got a cool idea' reintroduction of fins, and the slapping on of Continental style rear tire cover, make this car one hot mess.  It looks like a middle aged former chic beauty that a reversal of fortune has caused to go to a cut-rate plastic surgeon and get some really bad work.   A Car and Driver version of a 'Glamor Don't' if there ever was one.

It's Like Heaven Everyday.

I you happen (like me) to be a fan of old cars, we're talking pre 1980, it is a treat to live in Los Angeles where deliciousness can be spotted daily.

My dear friend Charlie and I will always phone a report to one another and it usually goes like this:

Ring Ring


Me (looking at caller ID) : "Hello Gwendolyn"  (I try to come up with a different name each time)


Charlie:  "Fairfax, between 3rd and 4th, '67 Tempest, 327, white with blue interior."


Me:  "Oooo."


Charlie:  "Talk to ya later."


Me: "K, bye."


So Today's Report:

Santa Monica Blvd.  between San Vincente and Robertson, '69 black on black on black
Mercury Marauder X100!

In addition to being a sexy beast this was a big mother.  A full sized  Personal Luxury brand that shared much of it's front end styling with the Mercury Marquis.  My favorite styling quirk about the X100 is that it came with Mag wheels and fender skirts.  Mags and fender skirts together is sort of like Angelina Jolie in a Butte Knit shift!  But this thing came with a stock 429!  If you don't know what that means, it basically means that it will get you to the next gas station really, really fast.

Oh, and there was a really hot guy driving it.

Car Wars

I just read a great post by Ask The Cool Cookie on Doing Hard Time In Shaker Heights on a Plymouth Volare he once owned.  It called to mind the following:

The fall after high school, my parents offered to buy me a new car.  So off to a dealership in Waldorf, Md. we went.  They sold Dodge, Jeep and Triumph.

I, needless to say, was desperate for a Triumph Spitfire.  The folks thought the Dodge Aspen the more appropriate way to go.  Their compromise however was the 'sporty' Aspen RT.

I was predictably pouty and sullen.  (of course I'd kill to have that car now)  The car was bigger and therefore safer, my father reasoned.  Actually, I countered, a smaller car would make me a more cautious driver.
The Aspen had automatic and power steering dad said.  They don't make Triumphs with anything but standard transmissions and power steering would be silly on a little sports car, I retorted.  The Dodge is air conditioned, he boasted.  Who needs AC with a convertible top, I whined.  Well, the Dodge is an American car and it's better built.  Shit.  The Triumph, by British Leland, was notoriously temperamental.  He had me there.  That is until I was having a stroll around the RT trying to get used to my fate. (my fate, their money.  what a brat.)  On the drivers side front quarter panel, just behind the wheel well, was the 'Aspen' name badge in a jaunty chromed script.  In the same spot on the passenger side (as could only happen in the fantasy that was quality control in the late 70s) it said 'Volare'!  (the look-a-like model by Plymouth)

I grabbed my dad.  "American great building, huh?" I sneered as I marched him around the car.  When he saw the fuck-up all the color drained from his face and he looked as though everything he ever believed in was slipping away.  (Christ, first Nixon and now this).

And I got the Triumph.