Sunday, February 7, 2010

1967 sitting under the 80's

i walked six miles to take this picture, have been planning a hike up beacon hill for months longer, ever since i started working, to get some pictures of this beautiful ford galaxie two door hard top, tinted glass, in the distance, with rain

and inconceivably, like an advertisement for space based television cars, this wonderful car has sat waiting for me, since it was last reversed into this grassy parking spot behind this shitty house in 1996~ the keys tossed on the counter, swept into a drawer, buried under mail and newspaper clippings

this is why the rain falls ~ the baby who wore those little shoes could be 17 this year or older

and why the sun burns for eighteen hours a day in the summer so that these winter rains can oil and shine this rich other worldly patina

clean shark like late sixty lines submerging into the realities of a future Henry Ford would have fought with WWII vigor to defeat~one single perfect car ~ a perfectly charmed representation of our American dreams

fast back~hard top ~ two door~ nobody cares about these necessities anymore, you'll all drive hatch backs in plastics with sliding, stow away walls, twelve speakers, satellite radio, GPS, airbags and cup holders~ when we were kids people wouldn't let you drink in their cars, if you wanted to eat, you stopped, like humans, and ate with others in rooms, not in rubber restraint cushions with movies and air conditioning, you think Macgarret from Hawaii 5 O would ever put his ass in a mini-van

i wish i could have lived more of the sixties instead of hunting down permanently parked memories

and this thing, i don't know and can't explain my fixation on these ugly little shoe boxes, but here's another one, love the color dark thick forest green~so deep

but i hate the stupid hipsterish decals, for some snowboard thing or music shit heads from the burbs

nice little diesel though

feast the eye

mismatched wheel covers lots of cosmetic dings but it runs~ and that is enough

woah, and holy cow, wow~ watch out grandma~ behemoth coming down the lane

biggest production station wagon ~ ever

this freaking tank is nearly perfect. original paint, no dimples or crumps, daily driver on the road can you imagine seeing this grill and bumper headed at you doing sixty, on the rain, down a hill at the cross walk at night, you dressed in dipshit black

what can i say about this, it takes all kinds baby~ all kinds

i enjoy the color and the massive over use of chrome and huge tire, the wild removal of fenders and the impracticality of having no doors, windows or a real roof in the most rain blessed part of the USA~ fuck yeah~

we are a people who don't make a lot of sense

camo truck at church, makes sense, a wrathful god, an older guy who pretends he's in the army or that red dawn movie from the eighties

fuck yeah~

No comments:

Post a Comment