miss belvedere update

Those of you who knew me when recall that I was pretty obsessed over Miss Belvedere, the brand new 1957 Plymouth Belvedere encased in a concrete vault as a memento of the 1957 Tulsarama! celebration. The intent was, of course, to open the watertight vault in 2007 and present the world with immaculately preserved artifacts of the late 50's. Except that when one plans on underground preservation, airtight is the required standard and a watertight concrete vault will, in fact, revert to the swimming pool it do closely resembles. Fast forward to 2007 when the ruins of a cruelly drowned and devastated 1957 Plymouth were unearthed, displayed, and celebrated.

Don't misunderstand, I'm mad about Miss Belvedere. Not so much for her ruined condition, but for the can-do attitude that swept a bunch of Tulsa businessmen into thinking that they could create this remarkable time capsule. The fact that they really couldn't is more of a footnote.

Okay, so two years later, where is Miss Belvedere? I had read that she was in the care of a company called Ultra One, that makes a rust removing product. They were going to attempt to stabilize her and get some good PR in the process. Along the way they discovered that the frame is ravaged, the rear springs crumbled and the axle was fused. They have removed most of the red clay and even gotten portions of her to resemble an automobile. Enough suspension components were replaced to make her push-worthy, but the realization has dawned that she is an artifact with the structural integrity of a potato chip.

Follow this link to an update in today's New York Times about her saga since 2007, complete with a photo slideshow.

a single mess

I went to see "A Single Man", Tom Ford's motion picture directorial debut, last night at the Camelot. I'm not discussing the plot, which seems to be about a despondent suicidal Colin Firth discovering the possibility of new love and then dying anyway, but rather the execution. This is the film that is being described as immaculately detailed by film reviewers. Tom Ford himself was quoted as saying "believe it or not, I didn't care about the style".

I believe him. Is that why there are so many obvious errors?

Now a period film is exquisitely hard to make, and one will never have every detail correct, so pay attention to the important ones. For example, if a film is clearly set in November 1962 and the entire plot pivots around a terrible traffic accident in the late winter of 1962, approximately March, do not choose a 1963 Rambler Cross Country as the victim's mode of transport, as its unavailability at that time ruins the credibility of the production design. Are we to believe that the factory flew in a prototype for the express purpose of dispatching the late lamented lover?

Furthermore, the fact that the car lies totally undamaged on its roof as if gingerly placed there by an army of fairies is odd, and one wonders whether this was an attempt to sanitize the gruesome nature of an early sixties auto crash, or whether they simply had to have the Rambler back to Hollywood Picture Cars by 5 pm to avoid additional rental charges. However rationalized, the Rambler is an epic failure.

So the camera follows George (Colin Firth) to work in the morning, starting with an establishing shot of his oh-so-chic Mercedes 220S coupe in the carport. The camera pulls back slightly and reveals a yellow and black California 1956 license plate with a year sticker. Period correct. For a pickup truck. E 95 047. A Commercial plate. A passenger car would have a three letter, three number configuration such as ABC 123. A twelve year old could catch this one- so how did it work its way into this film so highly praised for detail? Or do glaringly inaccurate details still qualify?


The offending Mercedes, from the HDNB Blog.

I'll cruise past the conceivable but unlikely narrow whitewalls on the 220S and drive to school with George. We pull into his College parking lot and there in full glorious view for several seconds is the totally restyled 1966 Lincoln Continental convertible. Not the original 1961-63, not the lengthened second generation 1964-65 with totally new roofline, but the all new 1966. They're two generations off. I am now totally screaming inside, I can't think any more, and we're only twenty minutes into the film. Yes, I am a stickler for detail, but how can one make so many glaring mistakes in important scenes?

Oh, right. The quote. Tom said he didn't care about the details. Well, Tom, maybe if you ever make another film, and I'm certainly not suggesting that you do, you might think about caring. For all us little people in the dark.

thurston and the dinos

Well, kids, we're back after a holiday whirlwind. Not too much going on with cars this last week or so, but I did take a trip you might find amusing. A friend was in town and wanted to see the Dinosaurs at Cabazon, so we made a brief trip that, unfortunately, was combined with one of our rare rainy PS mornings, so it was fun but not a photo op.

I'd been polishing the heck out of Thurston, the noble dunkelblau 450SEL and was looking for a fun setting for a picture or two when the dinos popped into my head. Off we went for a tour. Thurston, whose full name is Thurston Mc Thirsty, seemed to enjoy this. Look how lost in thought he seems, as if he's calculating the number of gallons of unleaded in each dinsosaur.

santa's gto

Most of you know I'm crazy about the Ramones, and that enthusiasm extendes to some of their tribute bands as well. Today's stop on the tour of the truly unusual features the world's only all-female Ramones tribute band, the Ramonas, and their festive little holiday number called "Santa's Got a GTO". This video features original imagery including renderings by legendary advertising artist Art Fitzpatrick.

So put some Octane in your holiday and take a look:

chilly kitty

Remember that photo I posted back a couple weeks ago of the lovely 1977 Cougar here in the desert? Well, the car has been sold and the new owner lives in Maryland. Here's the Cougar on arrival at his home:



Aside from being one chilly kitty, I think its a very cool photo in situ. Note the iced over blue California plates- I certain this one has never seen snow before. Hope he put it in the garage by now!

biff and puff

Reposted from the World O'Jeff, July 2008:

I blame a popular news blog I read every morning for this one. On today's Open Thread Thursday, commenters were asked to describe their first car. For me, it's a vivid memory.

Here was my response:

"My first car was a brand new triple yellow 1977 Chevette Sandpiper with a high output 1.6 engine, four speed trans, yellow gold and cream striped "Reef" cloth interior, and gold birds on the quarter panels. His name was Biff.

Dad and I were looking at new cars at the Chevy dealer when the transport truck drove up and deposited the lonely yellow Chevette before our eyes.

Many years later I was featured on CNN with his near twin, Puff.

Long live the Nerd Car!"

To elaborate:

In early 1977, Dad promised me a car if I ran errands for Mom. We disagreed strongly on what car it would be. He suggested Chevy Vega, the car with the molten aluminum blob passing for an engine. I suggested the brilliant but pricey Volkswagen Rabbit. He countered with the Vega-based Buick Skyhawk, with a godawful odd-firing engine and hostile shift linkage. I made a last minute play for Chevette Sandpiper.

I figured we would land on Chevette, an ordinary little car but at least it ran without unexpected explosions. I upped the ante for the designer Sandpiper edition, in Reef Gold (yellow) with an awesome yellow interior- yellow dash, carpets, door panels, headliner, seat backs- and a tri-tone cloth seat of yellow, gold, and cream (pattern repeating on door) Add distinctive rear fender flock-of-birds decals and the package was complete.

Now to find one in stock. Despite being in a major Chevy market, I couldn't find even one on a dealer's lot. And I called them all. Weekly.

By May, 1977, we had just about given up and were at Al Serra Chevy looking at a used, base engine, automatic Sandpiper. It was a slug, but it was a "Piper. I was just about to acquiesce when a car transporter pulled up to drop off a car. It was pretty unusual for a transporter to make an evening delivery on a Friday night. The cargo was a lone Chevette Sandpiper.

We inspected the solitary little lemon drop and found it to have a high output engine, four speed stick, AM/FM, raised white letter radials, deluxe molding packages, and many more options. In short, it was a virtually loaded Sandpiper. Our salesperson quickly checked and verified that it was available.

Jeff, meet Biff.

Below, Jeff and Biff. Grand Blanc, MI. May, 1977. Photo taken by Polaroid SX-70:







Fast forward 25 years. My boyfriend Chris, the car crazy Texan with the deepest blue eyes I had ever seen, was out to lunch and saw a very clean early Chevette on the street. He came back to work and typed "Chevette" into Autotrader. Up popped a one-owner Sandpiper from an elderly lady's estate.

Jeff, Meet Puff.

Puff was all but identical to Biff, except more loaded with air and automatic. I bought him sight unseen and dialed him in to show quality. We never attended a show together without him receiving some type of award. Puff's proudest hour came on Good Friday, 2002, when he and I were featured in USA Today together for a Nerd Car story.

The following week we were on CNN.

From USA Today, Good Friday 2002, Burbank, CA: Jeff and Puff:











A better shot of Puff. He won a handsome plaque at this show which I still have:















Look at those crazy striped seats:















Thanks, Joe, for the reminder. Weren't those wild seventies colors fabulous?

mercedes boy

Just returning from a rocket day to Los Angeles where I got gasoline on my hands and played with cars. I helped my friend Jeff drop off his very nicely kept 1976 Mercedes 450SEL for servicing. The 450 series is the car that, in my opinion, established Mercedes as THE car to own in Hollywood. Interesting car. Big, safe, impressive but really quite bereft of power accessories- manual a/c and manual seats even- but still a superb driving car. He followed me in the SEL's baby brother, his low mileage Avocado metallic 1976 450SL. Daphne the Spaniel rode shotgun in her car seat in the cubby behind the seats of the SL. It was fun chasing through the west valley in our little blue plate caravan of 70's power rides. A reminder of the days when Mercedes ruled the world. Sad that the current car is so pale in comparison.

After that, I brought his 87 560SL back to the desert. So it was pretty much a 107/!!3 day for me. I'm amazed that at my totally average height I'm actually tall for the 107, and hit my head several times on the roof. But once inside, quite a lovely and nostalgic ride home. Desert night and the sporty little SL are well suited. Still as handsome today as ever. What fun these little roadsters were.