Art on wheels

This is me walking away from my first car, this is the only photo I can find of it. Yes, that is me with the wild hair blonde hair and the bell bottoms, this was about 1979. The car, was a 1974 Ford Granada.

I don't know how old I was when my parents started taking me to car shows. The first I remember was when I was four. I fell in love with an old fire truck and insisted on having my picture taken with it. That fire truck was easily the biggest thing there, that was not what appealed to me, neither was the fact that it was an emergency vehicle designed to carry hero's (to a four year old, that was a big thing) there was just something about the look of the thing. I told my Mom that it was "Pretty".


This second photo is one I took in Florida of someone's Granada. My family thought I was nuts as I exclaimed with excitement and photographed it from every angle. It is not exactly the same as mine, but it is very close. Try looking them up on the Internet, very few of them survived. The British version was better built and has more of a following, you can find all sorts of pictures of them. I did not pick it out, but it was my first and it was loved.

I grew up in a family full of car nuts. I can't tell you which one is the 64 and which is the 67 or even the names of a lot of them, but I am enamored with the the automobile, in all it's many forms. You know that I carry my trusty little Fuji finepix everywhere, when I see something I like, out comes the camera. It is not unusual for that something to be a car. This lovely little red "Triumph" was waiting in a parking lot in Greenville. The owner came out while I was taking photos and we had quite a nice discussion. I have never had anyone be anything but flattered when I explained that I just loved their car. Most people who drive something that I consider photo worthy, do it out of love and they like to share their appreciation.

Dad used to tell us that he learned how to drive on a model "T". He was born in 1914 and I don't know how old he was when he learned to drive but by then they were old enough to be considered "beaters" but not old enough to be cool.


Dad loved working on cars and he was good at it. His last project involved modifying the engine mounts of a Chevy El Camino to hold an engine from an Impala. It took a lot of work, but he did it. I can still see his grin. My Sister Paula got to drive it once. I am still jealous! I don't know what year either car was, I was
12 or 13 years old at the time and Dad was rather old fashioned. He thought girls should be able to change a tire if they had to and maybe the oil, otherwise, they better let a man handle it. I wonder what he would have thought of me being in the AF and working on airplanes?
Two more red cars in a row. A first edition Ford Mustang convertible, (much better designed and built than my later Granada) then a lovely mid 60's Corvette Stingray. Mom's favorite color was red. The brighter the better. She loved cars too. I know how old she was when she got her license because I remember it. I think I was about 5, that would make her 46. It was a Saturday afternoon and Mom was ready to go to the Laundromat. She asked Dad to drive her and he refused. He was busy watching something on TV. My parents did not usually argue in front of us. That time they did. Mom worked Mon - Fri and had limited time to do what she needed to do on the weekend. She did not feel like waiting till he got around to it. It did not matter, Dad watched his show then took us to the Laundromat when it was over. Monday when Mom came home from work, she told Dad that she signed herself up for a drivers ed class and if he would not drive her to it, she would take a cab.

He knew when he was beaten. She got her license. He was a

product of his times.
This sweet little white car is a Porsch. They are always
beautiful. I love the lines of them. They to me, always look to the future. The photo above it is the interior of a classic Lincoln Continental. It has custom plates and is aptly named Land yot. Just look at it. Below the Porsche is another classic I found parked at the side of the road it is green and I think it is an old Plymouth.

Look how well polished it is, it is loved.

Mom collected cars, toy cars, Avon cars and even Jim Beam bottles shaped like cars. When my Dad was alive, she used to buy them for him. After he died, she continued to buy them for herself. I don't know how she decided which ones she liked, maybe they reminded her of him. I have a set of die cast British Double Decker bus and London Taxi that she bought when she stayed with us in Britain. I think they sell die cast replicas of these old tourist buses in Yellowstone. If Mom were still with us, I would have bought her one.
Her grand kids benefited from her madness for "matchbox cars". She never minded when they played with them.

I guess my collection of car photos isn't so far off the mark.
The black car with the big grin is a 1953 Chevy that still belongs to the Savannah GA police force. It's older brother is from 1947. Aren't they adorable? I can just see the car chases. I wonder how fast they would go?

Last but not least. You know I love pickups, I drive a wonderful little Toyota Tacoma, I have posted it's picture here before. This old Pickup was showing off at Belle Chere in Ashville. I had to stop.

Well, am I nuts, or can you see a little bit of what I mean? Cars and trucks can be an art form in themselves. (Don't get me started on custom paint jobs, I have several photos of those too).

Have a nice weekend, car show season is almost over.

Kat