Whatever Happened To Skirts?
Not the kind girls wear, but the style that covered the rear wheels of cars. I don't remember having seen any of them lately, or even for years.
At one time, they were pretty much the standard modification for cars driven by teens. When I go to Google Images, the cars seem to be from the mid- to late-1950’s and they have that stand-out look – at least to these eyes.
Of course, these eyes came of driving age in the mid-50’s and, although I did not have my own car, I could admire those of my approx age who did. They were the cool crowd, but friendly, and I admired anyone who had their own wheels.
Maybe excepting Bill Decker. He used to park at the seawall and just stare out at the ocean. Ok, I was a loner from Day One and kept to my shortwave and Amateur Radio sets in the cellar, but at least I wasn’t sitting in a car staring at the water for what seemed forever. He’s probably still there, in the same car, still staring.
Billy Klosek had a Bermuda carriage bell in his car, a black straight-line Ford. The button was on the floor and it sounded a high/low “ding-dong” when he wanted it. That was neat and, for a small village, stood out in the stillness.
Me? Nothing more than riding back from the general store on my bike, no hands, against the sparse traffic, reading the New York Times.
At one time, they were pretty much the standard modification for cars driven by teens. When I go to Google Images, the cars seem to be from the mid- to late-1950’s and they have that stand-out look – at least to these eyes.
Of course, these eyes came of driving age in the mid-50’s and, although I did not have my own car, I could admire those of my approx age who did. They were the cool crowd, but friendly, and I admired anyone who had their own wheels.
Maybe excepting Bill Decker. He used to park at the seawall and just stare out at the ocean. Ok, I was a loner from Day One and kept to my shortwave and Amateur Radio sets in the cellar, but at least I wasn’t sitting in a car staring at the water for what seemed forever. He’s probably still there, in the same car, still staring.
Billy Klosek had a Bermuda carriage bell in his car, a black straight-line Ford. The button was on the floor and it sounded a high/low “ding-dong” when he wanted it. That was neat and, for a small village, stood out in the stillness.
Me? Nothing more than riding back from the general store on my bike, no hands, against the sparse traffic, reading the New York Times.
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