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We aren't talking about memories here, we are talking about tacky "art". There IS a reason you do not see this stuff sold in art galleries, but you will find it at Wal-Mart. It has nothing to do with cars or even reality. It has to do with psychological manipulation, iconic "buttons", and consumerism. "Buy this .... it has a familiar image on it !"
I am old enough to remember drive-ins and Googie. I remember my best friend's sister getting a job at the nearby Dairy Queen, raking in a whopping 50 cents an hour ! I think that was 1964 ? I remember going with Grandma and Grandpa in their lilac and white 59 Electra with the top town to have a burger and fries at Casper's or the cool recesses of the Penguin, while the glint of chrome and glass pierced the shadows beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows and palm gardens around the booths. Was it special ? Hell yeah ! Was it poodle skirts and hot pink neon flamingos ? Not a chance. Poodle skirts were long out of fashion by the time fins were in vogue. Hot pink was the 1980's contrived vision of the subtle pastels that were the 50's. I do not doubt how life was in the 50's, I am just kinda picky about the mix-n-match presentation of early 50's, late 50's, a!
nd what
never was 50's ! And for goodness' sake, do we HAVE TO do it in cartoon form ?
I also remember walking down our street and marveling at the cars. MacKintoshs had a 58 Lincoln convertible and a 57 Ranchero, Mr. Anderson drove a Ferrari of all things, while his wife had a 59 Olds wagon in beige metallic, the Webbs had a black 57 Ford el cheapo sedan, and next to them the Bjorklunds had a brand new Falcon. Gustafsons had a 59 Merc wagon with wood sides, and my own parents had a pair of 57 Chevs, one a FI coupe and the other a copper and cream Bel Air wagon. Mr. Crawford had a new 60 Pontiac Ventura, and the Davisons had an all-white 56 Cadillac and an ancient Packard hiding in the garage that never moved. Mr. Blood had a striking baby blue 60 Polara with those wild chrome "gills" on the rear quarters. and across the street, the only "older" kids (late teens, early 20's) in the neighborhood had a slew of hotrods, and a 58 Corvette, all painted shiney black.&nb!
sp; Now
here in the lot were there hot pink paint jobs, no neon flamingos, no toothpaste lettering, no cardboard cutouts of James Dean or Marilyn Monroe, and Elvis was still a viable "hit machine", along with Perry Como and Lawrence Welk.
I remember the baby moons, the louvred hoods, the side pipes too. But what does any of this have to do with trite and contrived cartoons that make a mockery of these cars we love ? There is good art, and there is plenty of other stuff. Commercial art, cartoons, downright bad art. If having one's warm-n-fuzzy memories stimulated is the ONLY objective, perhaps cartoons are good enough to get the job done for some. All I am saying is that there is so much better stuff out there than to just settle for some lame cartoons.
Every day is a good day.
Enjoy ! ;-D
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