n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk. - The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows
So I’ve been helping my brother on auto repair stuff recently, and we looked at a 1962 Corvette today that needs some work. What a gorgeous car. I have an affinity for classics (mostly from the late 1950s), and the lines on this thing are gorgeous. From the chrome trim above the headlights to the slant of the rear, I love how this car has so many sleek, sloping lines.
Sitting in it was the first time I ever sat in anything so old. I’m in love with the iconography of these old machines’ dials and indicators, reminiscent of Googie architecture and space age optimism.
Cody Carson of Set It Off | Jack Rabbits at Jacksonville | 3/22/2014
That hair though.
Hey women - guess what? You won’t be very well-liked if you’re a girl who “parks in cars with boys at night.”
I stumbled across this 1947 educational docudrama about popularity in school, and its a hoot. It’s funny when you think about it. “Parks in cars with boys” is the same thing as “hooking up,” but with a 70-year difference. And while this may be a dramatization, the mannerisms of the culture at the time have this weird sort of allure - the kind of thing you think about with the phrase “good old days.”
This isn’t helping my unhealthy obsession with all things mid-century post-war Americana.
Happy 10th birthday to the phenomenal album American Idiot. This album molded and formed the basis for the entirety of my musical taste, as well as influencing my personality. I used to listen to it over and over and over again, never getting tired of it. I don’t think I’ve encountered another album that I can replay so often and still enjoy.
After a 33-hour drive, which broke a number of records for me (most importantly bringing me further west than I had ever been before), we finally reached our first destination: A little town about an hour south of the Grand Canyon. I had booked us a hotel here and got a faint idea on Google Maps what the town was like, but actually being here is a whole different thing.
Williams is a time piece. It’s straight out of your preconceptions of “old west” – a little town with a road running through it. Old brick buildings. Horse-drawn carriages. We ate at a ‘50s/’60s themed diner with traditional American food. There’s a ’56 Buick across the street from me (one of my dream cars, I might add). I can walk to anywhere I need to go in this town.
Cruiser’s Café 66, our grub stop, has a whole gift shop full of mid-century memorabilia, which drives me crazy. I’ve been fascinated with the atomic era of American history for a few years now, but I’ve never had much direct experience with anything that tries to recreate it. Here though, with one of my dream cars across the street, a Coke vending machine that dispenses glass bottles and constant reminders I’m on legendary route 66, I feel an authentic connection to the past. I’ve also never met so many friendly people before.
Even more so considering that we’re taking a historic train through the mountains to the Grand Canyon tomorrow (The Grand Canyon Railway).
Fat chance someone here will want it, but I’m soon going to be trying to sell a guitar kit I’ve had for a while and wanted to open it up to any local followers here first.
Whole shebang has a Fender Strat (I believe), amp, tuner, guitar case, guitar stand, amp cord, and a converter to use headphones with the amp. $350 for it all. If you’re looking for something to get started with, this is a great kit without going for that crappy Walmart brand equipment.
Message me if interested and I can provide a lot more specifics.