LostInTyme
Practically Family
- Messages
- 539
Old cars have always been a passion for me. I am speaking of an era of cars that were built in the last century, particularly in the thirties, forties and fifties. These cars were part of what is commonly called “Detroit Iron”. Cars that were made with heavy steel, more like tanks. The interiors didn’t have a full array of plastics, vinyl and other products that are made to imitate those found in nature. The interior upholsteries were fabric and had a feel of warmth about them. They had a look about them that evoked a feeling of anther bygone era, the Art Deco period of the twenties and thirties.
I only owned a very few of these types of cars, but I desired many more. I used to spend many hours trekking through Junk Yards, often referred to as Bone Yards back in the days of my youth. These were places where old cars went to be recycled as parts for other cars, to keep them running a few more years. The cars could be parted out, or resold to be repaired and made roadworthy once again. Also, back then, you were allowed to roam freely through these places and remove the parts you needed or wanted and bring up to the desk or counter and pay for them.
I would often sit in these cars and think of who may have owned and driven them in the past. The thing, other than the look of these cars that intrigued me was the smell of them. Rather than smell, I should call it the aroma of them. Smell somehow causes a negative feeling sometimes. The word aroma evokes another type of feeling. These cars certainly have their own particular aroma.
It was a combination of many things. There was a mixture of stale tobacco smoke, coffee, stale food, mud, dirt, gas, oil, mold, mildew, and other things generated by the people and whatever other occupants that spent time riding around in these wonderful cars. It was the smell of humans and what humans do in cars. It was the smell of humanity. It is hard to describe perfectly unless you have actually experienced it.
As I said, I did own a few of these cars, often for short periods in my teen years. I would do what I could to improve them, and make them my own for a brief time, and then pass them along and move on to something else. But, they would always remain in my memory, and the memory of their particular aroma would always be a good one for me.
To this very day, I wish I could have actually owned all the cars I sat in, and dreamed in. I wish I could have driven them around, listened to their old radios, made out in their front seats, parked at a drive-in restaurant and ate burgers and fries in them, put on a set of Baby Moons on their wheels and a couple of glass packs underneath, preferably Cherry Bombs. Oh sure, a four barrel and manifold would have been nice, but those were mostly out of my price range way back then.
On an aside note, and not anything to do with old cars, but with memories of aromas. I distinctly remember an aroma often experienced in church. When the Congregation would all rise, and begin to sing a hymn, there was a short moment when everyone in unison would emit an odor of tobacco and either toothpaste or mouthwash, but it was unique, and I never experienced it in any other place. In these days, almost everyone smoked, mostly cigarettes, and I am relatively certain that this rather distinct smell was common it similar situations throughout the world, back in the days of the Cold War.
So, that is my memory of Old Cars, and days gone by. Good memories, to be sure, and that is how I want to keep them. I hope I have triggered some switch in your mind, of opened up a long forgotten and happy part of your life.
I only owned a very few of these types of cars, but I desired many more. I used to spend many hours trekking through Junk Yards, often referred to as Bone Yards back in the days of my youth. These were places where old cars went to be recycled as parts for other cars, to keep them running a few more years. The cars could be parted out, or resold to be repaired and made roadworthy once again. Also, back then, you were allowed to roam freely through these places and remove the parts you needed or wanted and bring up to the desk or counter and pay for them.
I would often sit in these cars and think of who may have owned and driven them in the past. The thing, other than the look of these cars that intrigued me was the smell of them. Rather than smell, I should call it the aroma of them. Smell somehow causes a negative feeling sometimes. The word aroma evokes another type of feeling. These cars certainly have their own particular aroma.
It was a combination of many things. There was a mixture of stale tobacco smoke, coffee, stale food, mud, dirt, gas, oil, mold, mildew, and other things generated by the people and whatever other occupants that spent time riding around in these wonderful cars. It was the smell of humans and what humans do in cars. It was the smell of humanity. It is hard to describe perfectly unless you have actually experienced it.
As I said, I did own a few of these cars, often for short periods in my teen years. I would do what I could to improve them, and make them my own for a brief time, and then pass them along and move on to something else. But, they would always remain in my memory, and the memory of their particular aroma would always be a good one for me.
To this very day, I wish I could have actually owned all the cars I sat in, and dreamed in. I wish I could have driven them around, listened to their old radios, made out in their front seats, parked at a drive-in restaurant and ate burgers and fries in them, put on a set of Baby Moons on their wheels and a couple of glass packs underneath, preferably Cherry Bombs. Oh sure, a four barrel and manifold would have been nice, but those were mostly out of my price range way back then.
On an aside note, and not anything to do with old cars, but with memories of aromas. I distinctly remember an aroma often experienced in church. When the Congregation would all rise, and begin to sing a hymn, there was a short moment when everyone in unison would emit an odor of tobacco and either toothpaste or mouthwash, but it was unique, and I never experienced it in any other place. In these days, almost everyone smoked, mostly cigarettes, and I am relatively certain that this rather distinct smell was common it similar situations throughout the world, back in the days of the Cold War.
So, that is my memory of Old Cars, and days gone by. Good memories, to be sure, and that is how I want to keep them. I hope I have triggered some switch in your mind, of opened up a long forgotten and happy part of your life.
