Spirit in the Sky

We're recovering from the weekend. I think we've made it to stable condition as I have officially emptied the cosmetic bag of all shampoo, soap, and other toiletries. That usually takes forever--I'll still pull deodorant out of the suitcase weeks after I've returned from a trip.

Our nostalgic weekend included the annual Chevy Classic Car show in Tennessee. (Photos posted on web page.) Have a look.
I've had a sick fascination with cars from the late 1950's to early 1960's since I was old enough to read. Daddy had a service station and a wrecker business. He also had a "junkyard" next to the station--which was off limits to my brother and I. Still, we found a way to always slip between the gap in the chain link gates and wander around in the metal ruins. I will always remember the smell--the smell of old cars, wrecked cars to be exact. Now as an 9 year old, this would've been a perfect way to describe the odor but seeing as how I'm supposed to be 24, I'm not sure this would suffice. I'm going to use it anyway. They smelled like M&M's. When you first open the bag and you can smell them. I think it was the rust and the crushed metal in the heat that gave off that aroma--I know, call me Norman Bates.
After that I started a Stephen King phase which lasted as long as the first three chapters of Pet Cemetery. I couldn't sleep and I couldn't even have the book in my room at night. A few years later I saw Christine and such began a life long infatuation with the late 1950's. I had a growing interest in old cars and The Master and I would often seek out the rustbuckets just so I could have a look.
It's difficult to explain the feeling about those cars--it's different. Often we'd find them hidden in the kudzu and The Master would insist on prying open the doors to see what was inside. That's when the lump would begin...my nostrils would become filled with the old, familiar scent of M&M candy...I'd see the car when it rolled off the assembly line...shining with all its chrome. Two teenagers dating...holding hands across the leather bench seat...listening to AM radio, maybe even Santo & Johnny...then I see and hear and smell the car burning from a crash...the two teenagers trapped inside. Sometimes they come back. Then I'd scold myself for getting a good dose of goosebumps.
The "fin" cars, as I call them, have a certain strange personality. They're intimidating and there's an entire history behind them that gives an eerie and somewhat creepy demeanor.
This could be the Hollywood effect as they've been used as menacing, predator types in many movies and television. They are prevalent in horror films. I remember the X-Files episode with the "Pig Family"--resembling some of our fellow citizens here in the backcountry. The inbred brothers used an old 1950's car as transportation for their homicide sprees. As I mentioned earlier, Christine, speaks for itself. Stephen King used the 1955 Chevrolet Bel-Air as the car from Hell in Sometimes they Come Back. Maybe it's their striking good looks or dashing set of chrome that keeps them popular with the film industry and cryptkeepers.
I've got a soft spot for the old beauties.

Don't cry for me Argentenoree.