Don Draper in the 80s
"Lick my scrotum, bitch deep throat em, on the flow, you filthy hoe -
Burn it down!
Burn it down!"
I nearly dropped the gas pump handle because I was laughing so hard. I had been filling the tank at an Aurora BP station, when a 1989 Olds Ninety-Eight Regency pulled up beside us - sound system blaring. The car was a total piece of shit - obviously the remains of grandma's ride, passed down from grandchild to grandchild (with a stereo worth more than the vehicle). Its upholstery looked like an old velvet couch, and someone had attempted - and failed - to install dark tinting on the rear windows. The beater had no rust or body damage, but it clearly had seen several hundred thousand miles in its lifetime. It was...awesome.
Burn it down!
Burn it down!"
I nearly dropped the gas pump handle because I was laughing so hard. I had been filling the tank at an Aurora BP station, when a 1989 Olds Ninety-Eight Regency pulled up beside us - sound system blaring. The car was a total piece of shit - obviously the remains of grandma's ride, passed down from grandchild to grandchild (with a stereo worth more than the vehicle). Its upholstery looked like an old velvet couch, and someone had attempted - and failed - to install dark tinting on the rear windows. The beater had no rust or body damage, but it clearly had seen several hundred thousand miles in its lifetime. It was...awesome.
The dashboard of an 89' 98' Despite being a General Motors product, the 98's color had turned "Ford Brown" over the years. To make matters worse, some well-meaning art student had attempted to "marbleize" the car's exterior...that is, to embellish the existing paint with streaks & veining to suggest rock instead of metal. The result was disastrous. The old brown car looked like it had been spat on by a mob. Then add the Olds' ridiculous sound-system, and every piece of trim, plastic, and chrome rattled loudly with each bass-bomb. The music was so loud, I wondered if the engine actually worked - or if the car was just propelled by percussion. Whatever the case, the vehicle was being driven by a young, white, angsty male - a dude who was as gangsta as David Hyde Pierce. He left the music on while he reached for his own gas pump handle. "Sup?" He asked, unscrewing the gas cap -
Clatter, clatter, roll-roll-clatter...rif,rir,rir,rir...ririririrrrrrrrrrrrrrip!
The cap - having been loosened by the vibration - jumped from his hand, and rolled under his car, out of reach. That's when I lost it.
BAM!
Clatter, clatter, roll-roll-clatter...rif,rir,rir,rir...ririririrrrrrrrrrrrrrip!
The cap - having been loosened by the vibration - jumped from his hand, and rolled under his car, out of reach. That's when I lost it.
BAM!
 |  |
No sooner had I written the story above when a loud crash outside sent me running to the window. I arrived in time to see a 1989 Olds Ninety-Eight Regency coast to a stop in front of my house, moments after an accident. A quick glance of the intersection proved there were two cars involved but no injuries...so, I settled on my couch and watched the aftermath - amazed at the irony. It wasn't the 98' that I saw at the gas station, but it was the same make, model, and year - and seriously: what are the chances of seeing the "same" 27-year-old car twice in a 12 hour period? My mind began to wander:
"I was just writing about this car, and it literally materializes in front of my house," I thought. "Is this coincidence? Karma? Or did I make this happen, like Richard Burton in The Medusa Touch?"
Whatever the case, I promised to use my powers for good...after a couple of quick pit stops beforehand.
"I was just writing about this car, and it literally materializes in front of my house," I thought. "Is this coincidence? Karma? Or did I make this happen, like Richard Burton in The Medusa Touch?"
Whatever the case, I promised to use my powers for good...after a couple of quick pit stops beforehand.
Hyundai's Zombie Car Creepy coincidences aside, I'm always amazed at the things young guys do to their cars, in an effort to stand out in the crowd. From big rims & stereos to big bucks spent on custom paint jobs, cars these days are launching a new "coach built" era, where no two are the same. A century ago, high-end automobile companies hand built cars one at a time, to the specifications of individual buyers. This concept was the opposite of mass production, and I bring this up because, where customized cars were once a strictly rich man's endeavor, what's happening now is anything but. Pep Boys offers more than just air fresheners & Bondo, they offer the ability to change a vehicle into anything that you want - like Hyundai's zombie car. And that's not a good thing.
Sitting on my porch that overlooks downtown Aurora, I have witnessed some of the worst imaginable examples of poorly-customized cars. I'm not talking just an Olds with a bad paint job, I'm referring to vehicles rebuilt by kids who never finished shop class (and clearly did their customizing after one too many blunts). These automotive-abortions always start with the cheapest car possible, then snap on the plastic as if a 92' Honda were Mr. Potatohead. It's as though drivers thought that if they reimagined their Daewoo's back end, we'd never be able to recognize the original source material. Aurora is especially guilty of this, as on any given day I see at least one Chrysler 300 repackaged as a Bentley. Of course, most Bentley owners don't blare rap music on their way to ALDI.
As you can see from the pictures, my house is located on the corner of two streets - with an electrical pole very close to the intersection. The pole gets nailed on a regular basis (including this accident), and when a "custom" car hits the bark, the entire area gets covered in shattered plastic. That's another reason why today's custom rides don't hold a candle to yesteryear's cars. If a 29' Cadillac hit the pole in front of my house, the driver would be dead (thrown through the window), but the vehicle itself would have sustained only minor damage. Considering the caliber of most Aurora motorists, I'd prefer that the car survive...rather than the driver.
As you can see from the pictures, my house is located on the corner of two streets - with an electrical pole very close to the intersection. The pole gets nailed on a regular basis (including this accident), and when a "custom" car hits the bark, the entire area gets covered in shattered plastic. That's another reason why today's custom rides don't hold a candle to yesteryear's cars. If a 29' Cadillac hit the pole in front of my house, the driver would be dead (thrown through the window), but the vehicle itself would have sustained only minor damage. Considering the caliber of most Aurora motorists, I'd prefer that the car survive...rather than the driver.
A bud once taught me about the glamour of the coach-built era, and how companies like Packard & Duesenberg used to fill our roads with machines so beautiful that people literally got excited when they saw them: "Guess what? I saw a Duesenberg! I saw a God-damn Duesanberg!" The only thing comparable today would be seeing a celebrity in an unexpected place...like Lady GaGa at Kroger. But custom cars have become so common, the only time I even notice them anymore is when they hit my pole - or play loud music at the gas station. I've always been a "stock" kinda' guy, and when I get my next vehicle, I doubt I'll even add an air freshener.
Even if it's marbleized...