by, 01-18-2011 at 06:01 PM (1247 Views)
By 1964 the country was getting over its love affair with huge tail fins on the big cars coming out of Detroit, which was only a few hours ride from my house. But not me, even at 7 years old my obsession with Harley Earl designs, the sexy curves, alluring pastel colors, and spicy chrome dressings would hold my attention for entire afternoons at a time. And for some reason - unknown to an elementary school-roughneck, during this time Rita's dad always had a long lean Caddy, Olds, or Buick parked in front of the garage to the rear of her house. I really dont remember if he ever really drove the cars, they were always there. And yet it seemed like he was never at home when Rita and I would play outside her house , just a few doors down from my own, I rarely saw him, which was just fine with me - since he prabably would not have approved of the games we sometimes played.
When I wasn't trying to get as close as I could to Rita and her already budding body parts,(she was a few years older), I could always be found behind the drivers seat of one the afore mentioned cruisers, straining to peer over the steering wheel, or hiding behind the front seat during a game of Hide-and -Go -Seek, admiring the cloth upholstery patterns. Now almost fifty years later, whenever I study the long sleek lines and curves of restored American iron pre- sixty five..I remember Rita.