Lazy W Marie

Carpeing all the diems in semi-rural Oklahoma...xoxo

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Cobra Dream Comes True Early

September 21, 2011

   We dream many dreams in life.  Some of them are based on relationships or legacy; others revolve around ambitions; and still others are aimed at material acquisitions.  The dreamer feels the dream first; then he decides what is worth his continued dreaming.  Finally, he decides whether and how to go about making his dreams come true.
   Since he was a little boy, Handsome has been a car guy.  He developed an appreciation for all sorts of motorized vehicles and established his opinions on aesthetics and mechanics at a pretty early age.  Looking back over the years on his constantly rotating collection of cars, trucks, motorcycles, and watercraft, you can see his life change and witness his personality evolve.  You can see him experiment with style, rebel against authority, protect young children, go lunching with white collar colleagues, flirt with speed and danger, bond with his dad, and even fall in love.
   If you know him personally then you know I am not exaggerating one bit to say that his car collection represents much more than transportation; it is satisfaction on many levels and self expression in the truest sense for him. 
   Though many of his selections have come and gone, keeping that “visiting” spot in the garage pretty warm and filled with mystery, a couple of cars will always hold a place in his heart.
    One of them is the Shelby Cobra.
    He started loving this car in 1981 when he was six years old.  His specific memory of a date perked up my ears.  I asked him, “What happened?  Was it a significant event?  Where were you?  What was the weather like that day?  Were you hungry?”
    He said, “I saw one.”  Simple as that, I suppose.  Love at first sight.
    Someone gave Handsome a poster early in his Cobra love affair, and it hangs today in his car shop, barely tattered considering its age.
   He had a toy car model that represented his ultimate Cobra package:  Blue, white rally stripes, white pipes, single roll bar.  He keeps it in his office.

Here is a painting our oldest daughter made for him when she was about ten years old.  
That was almost six years ago, before we lived here at the farm, 
before Handsome’s career took such an unexpected and incredible turn, 
before a lot of family changes frankly.
She captured the blue paint, white rally stripes, and single roll bar.
It was a spontaneous work of love and gift for him, and we will treasure it forever.
Side note:  At that age, her dream car was a pick up truck, painted sparkly purple.

   He never expected to own it until after retirement.  But thanks to a slightly depressed car market, incredible long term financial discipline, and very, very, very patient searching, my dream guy was able to buy his dream car a bit early.  
One of the truly beautiful cars we considered and ultimately declined.

   When we shopped, we shopped for a long time and looked at a wide variety of cars all across the region, understanding that the unexpected and limited opportunity to buy might limit the colors available, motors, etc.  He considered a yellow paint job, an aqua blue one, and a black body with red pinstripes.  All of those cars were gorgeous and any of them might have been fine, but none of them was his dream.
    Fate intervened.

Unloading the Cobra was almost surreal that night.

   He gritted his teeth, waited, and got exactly the car he wanted.  It matches his model car almost perfectly but also needs just the right amount of tinkering to make it his.  He has big plans for his Cobra, knowing it will be a lifetime investment and treasure.  
      So far he has had it for about nine months, 
and we expect to enjoy it together for many decades.
   How I wish the girls could be under his wing for this chapter of their lives!  He has so much to teach and offer, so many lessons and resources, so much talent to share.  Maybe in the future.
One of favorite things at car shows has always been watching 
what keeps the attention of little children too young to be attached 
to commonplace labels or commercial popularity.
I wonder if we have a couple of collectors here.
I just love their faces!
   So to anyone still dreaming of your ultimate car, keep the flame alive.  In the back of your heart, in the margins of your thoughts, remember that dreams come true, even those dreams on wheels.
   

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Filed Under: car culture, Oklahoma Car Show, Shelby Cobra, thinky stuff

Car Show Culture

June 7, 2011

   I entered this marriage with a perspective that cars were nothing more than modes of transportation.  Learning through Handsome, then, the scope of artistic expression and passion and also the varying skills required in his car world, was eye opening. 
   Suffice it to say that his mechanical and electronic skills far exceed my own and most likely always will.  But my passion for this brave world is beginning to give his a run for its money. 
   Wait, does Passion have money? 
And if so, where does Passion get it? 
I don’t think Passion needs money,
but Passion sure can cost you money. 
I digress…
   We attended our second car show of this season over the weekend.  In Oklahoma we are already deep in the throes of an extreme summer, and we had a really wonderful time!
These Camaros’ lucky parking arrangement
had me craving a Dreamsicle. 
Bad.  Like, real bad.
“Would you like a white SS with orange racing stripes,
or an orange SS with white racing stripes, ma’am?”
   At any given car show you are likely to see every imaginable shade of red.  Every shade of most colors, actually, but red does seem to dominate.  Car owners, body men, and painters swim in color and pattern just like any other visual artist does.  Some people work hard at staying factory-original; other people take license to be very imaginative with their interior and exterior schemes.  The results are always interesting and often cause for friendly debate. 
   This photograph reminds me of a central theme that makes me kind of emotional.  Patriotism is pervasive, though inarticulate, at these gatherings.  In ten years I have never once heard mention of politics at these events, but there is lots of cultural exchange and fabric-of-life kind of talk.  And so much of it fortifies my opinion of living in this country!
   In sharing with each other your vehicles and your stories, you are helping to build a spontaneous oral history.  You are cross-pollinating the widely flung tales of people, families, and businesses through the decades, over the miles of these United States.
   And by the way, oral histories are arguably the most valuable bits of record we could possess.  More on that another time…
   If you listen closely, you can absorb who was president when this car was popular and why that matters; what industries were strongest then; how music impacted people that year; why someone chose that car and how he paid for it, whether a romance was important then, etc, etc.  Fascinating stuff! 
   People are interesting, and they are very willing to share their stories, especially when those stories can be illustrated by a big, beautiful, well loved machine.    I have seen men and women of all ages bond happily and anonymously this way, and that is just cool.
  
Some vehicles strike the marrow in my bones. 
This perfectly intense black Chevy truck
was one such creature this past weekend. 
I feel like Darth Vader would drive it.
   Speaking of a shared culture, only a few cars at the shows we frequent ever boast this kind of frenzy-causing ability.  This particular car is said to be titled in Georgia AND the owner had installed the right horn in his General Lee! 
   He was happy to oblige the crowd all day long.  Even across the expansive parking lot, Hazzard’s twelve-syllable anthem is absolutely laughter inducing!  Suddenly every one’s a southerner.
  
   If you are too young to have any stories to tell about actual social reform in the 1960s, then you are just exactly the right age to feel like you…
A.)  were blood related to the Duke family.
B.)  at one time were in love with a member of the Duke family. 
C.)  wanted to have your car worked on by Cooter.  Or…
D.)  were sympathetic to poor old Roscoe P. Coltrane and his misadventure sidekick, Flash.

“Geyoog, geyoog, geyoog!”
This is a veritable tuxedo on wheels. 
Even sitting still she looks fast, smooth, and classy.
She kinda took my breath away. 
I just love than rear wheel skirt, so ladylike…
Can you tell from this photo that the bed of this truck is textured? 
   It has been sprayed with bed liner material mixed with the same paint as the body.  What’s special about this find is that Handsome’s Dad is who started doing this way back in the early 1980s.  He was a pioneer, and people who show cars still know him by name.  He owned a body shop where were sown the seeds of automotive passion as well as a very respectable work ethic in his young son, my future Love.
   Saturday’s car show was excellent.  We saw friends, soaked up the sights, and celebrated some common appreciation for a pretty special art form.  Like always, though, at the end of the day we were ready to pack up and drive home.  We had memories to file away, a car cleaning bag to replace to the shop shelves, and a mild case of dehydration to nurse.
   The last thing we do before leaving is attend the awards ceremony.  Should our entry number be called (it often is), Handsome assigns me the task and the honor of accepting our trophy. 

   I dig it baby.  This is my moment.

   I mentally pretend to have not only invented cars but also to have personally designed whichever one we brought that day.  I imagine having hand painted the car with a brush built from a wild boar’s whiskers. 
(Victoria Jackson with Paul Simon? 
Classic SNL?  Look it up, it’s super funny.)
  
   As I sashay up to the microphone, flapping my pointy elbows like a rooster (this is part of the act) I notice a sour, humid odor that proves I have been at a car show all day in 95-degree heat. 

   And without warning my Car Guru fantasy shifts to thoughts of slipping into and drinking in deep gulps of the swimming pool waiting for us at home…

   Cars smell good.  Boys who work on cars smell good.  Girls who attend seven-hour car shows in summertime?  Not so much.


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Filed Under: car culture, writers workshops

Hi! I'm Marie. Welcome to the Lazy W. xoxo

Hi! I’m Marie. This is the Lazy W.

A hobby farming, book reading, coffee drinking, romance having, miles running girl in Oklahoma. Soaking up the particular beauty of every day. Blogging on the side. Welcome to the Lazy W!

I Believe Strongly in the Power of Gratitude & Joy Seeking

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