Boy did I see a car last week! It was a 1948 Cadillac two door fastback. It was a beautiful plum red, and it was in absolutely perfect shape. I could help but go up to the driver and congratulate him on the car. As I got to the car I met one of the most unattractive dogs I’ve ever met. He looked like a Muppet gone wrong.
Anyway, I said to the guy, “Well, I’m sure you’re tired of hearing this, but this is a beautiful car!”
He was an older guy – probably 70 or so – and he responded by saying that people tell him that all the time. His tone of voice implied that they were right to do so.
As it turns out, he had done all the restoration work himself, including a few subtle modifications. He said it looked a little rough, having been on the road for three days. I didn’t see anything that looked rough.
He was a very proud man, and had good reason to be. I don’t know his whole story, but I’m guessing that at one point in his life he wanted one of those cars, and promised himself he’d have one someday. To some people “someday” means before they’re 30. To this guy, it meant while he could still enjoy it, and enjoy it he does.
I’m all about the natural beauty of, well, nature, but looking at that car with its clean and flowing lines, it really was beautiful to me. Thinking about this guy working in his garage day after day to make sure it was just right, well, that’s kind of beautiful too. Good enough wasn’t good enough.
I’m an adherent to the idea that we should love people and use things, and not the other way around. But I can’t help but think that this man who restored a rusted shell of a car and transformed it into something better looking than what came off the showroom floor in 1948 must have really loved that car.
Other than the fact that he restored this car, and has an ugly dog, I don’t know anything else about the man. I’m hoping he’s a nice guy and that he treats his wife with respect and is kind to everyone. However, even if all he has going for him is that car, I have a measure of respect for him.
I once bought a car with the thought that I’d restore it. Then I realized that I had 1. No knowledge, 2. No skill, and 3., no money to hire somebody else to do it. So, it took a place of honor in what serves as a garage at our place until I was able to sell it to someone else who had the three qualities noted about. Even though it became clear pretty early that I couldn’t restore that car, I enjoyed having it around as a reminder of my own childhood when my family had one like it.
In a way, that’s where I think the beauty and the love come in – they are both for that earlier time, and those people with whom we shared it. It’s not really about the car so much as it is about the people and times that surrounded it.
