Living in California we are pretty much raised to think a car is an extension of our body. We also seem to think it's a constitutional right to have a car. No place is this more obvious than Los Angeles and the San Francisco Bay Area during commute time. Pure hell. Car after car going by with a single occupant.
It used to be, I believe, that cars were a statement about a man's manhood. For woman it wasn't the engine—or so the dealers thought—but the color of the outside and interior of the car and whether it had a mirror the ladies could look at to do their makeup. Seriously, they were idiots. Though I find nearly all ads for cars pretty stupid and repetitive (don't get me started on the luxury models that we're supposed to put under the Christmas tree each year), at least there is an attempt to go beyond the clichés of the past with the male/female stereotypes. Now we're supposed to be reckless, off-road, and extremely hot looking. I'm just glad I ended up in publishing and not advertising. I would have been shown the door in no time at all.
This week's Sepia Saturday photo is of a fellow standing in front of a car. I immediately went to the big BIG box of photos I was given for Christmas. Surely in the hundreds of shots in that glorious box there must be at least one of a guy with a car. I stopped after finding the following three.
I do know who this fellow was. His name was Ben and he was a Naval officer.
Click on image to see it larger.
On the back of this one it says "Taken June 18, 8th grade graduation." Diggin' the car and the flattop.
Click on image to see it larger.
NO idea who this fun fellow is.
Click on image to see it larger.
As I recall I have only one photo of myself standing next to a car. It was a bright red Audi in Germany. I loved that car too. It's long gone, but like with most cars, the memory remains.
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