Mixed feelings

This sort of dealer gives me a strange set of emotions. My gut reaction is "that's disgusting, those cars should be inside, being lovingly restored." As I think about it longer, though, I realize that perhaps some of these cars are just fine with their present location, and, perhaps, don't want to be moved.

For example, this '57 Buick has timeless styling, with the unforgettable "Sweepspear" and the "ventiports" on the front fenders. Modern cars simply can't pull this off. Even with the rust and lack of taillights, the car is still gorgeous, and the missing components lend it a spectral air. It retains all the grace and appeal that warrant effusive praise, and although the body of the car has been tarnished with time and the elements, GM's Styling Division's effort can still be seen in all the little details, from the "jets" in the front bumper to the kink in the window area, designed to match the Sweepspear. This is a showroom-quality restored version of the aforementioned Special 2-Door. The lines are unmistakable, and both cars are charming, just not in the same way. Part of me wants to rescue the car and fix it up. Another wants to let it be, and yet... maybe it would be best in a garage, shielded from further damage, but retaining its current appearance, rust and all. If the car could tell someone something, it might say this: "Just because I'm 56 doesn't mean I've lost anything (besides original wheels and tires)."

Imagine it. The heart and soul of '50s America, for $750.

You know what? Maybe it would be best to leave it be, and let it continue its conversation with the '59 Fireflite two cars down. Just maybe.







The truly unfortunate thing is that even if some of these cars don't want to leave that field, some of them are doomed to do so, simply based on what they are. It's not likely the '49 Mercs will be left alone, as they, along with the '51s, are classics of hot-rodding tradition, and will most likely be removed from their present dwelling place, only to be chopped, channeled, sectioned, and have other ghastly things done with their original Henry Ford sheetmetal.

It's not fair.

I want my own garage.

And some money to save a couple of these cars, to park in the garage and stare at. All day.
 
(edit: Here's the link to this dealership. Seems like it would be a fine place to spend a few afternoons with the cars and some flatbed trailers to take them home. And cash to pay for them, of course. There's a Chrysler Airflow that's definitely worth taking a look at, if only to pity the car. It was rejected by the market at the time, and now its final rejection is that nobody's bought it yet.)

(double edit: Not the same place, but same vein. This 1973 Mustang bears all the signs of an ill-advised hot-rodding attempt. Aftermarket steering wheel? Check. Side pipes? Check. Primer and rattlecan stripes? Check. Bondo everywhere? Check. Aftermarket Edelbrock carb? Check. Engine compartment structural braces? Check. At least it's got at least one decent wheel on it.)