Vintage Detroit Iron

Saw this car parked behind a suburban professional building in Salt Lake City. Weird juxtaposition of doctors, dentists and this incapacitated Ford LTD.

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I grew up with two Ford station wagons; one right after another. We used them like covered trucks for my mom’s business and they towed our Starcraft popup trailer on family camping trips. The bit of taillight shown in the image is similar to one of the wagons. Those station wagons were massive. Very boaty to drive, but had good power ratio for the weight of the car. My dad could squeal tires driving up Utah canyons with 5-6 kids and the trailer in tow. I recall a Mario Andretti comment from one of my siblings. My dad said something like, “bullshit” or maybe it was one of his invented words. My mom calmed him down and I was bummed. Squealing tires meant excitement and danger. I loved riding in the back of the first wagon. My dad found these pads that were made to fit the car and I would ride, unsecured, sprawled across the back of the car in quite luxurious fashion, reading MAD magazine and whatever comic books I had scrounged for the trip.

Good times.

I hauled a lot of food, tables, fake ferns, real ferns (it was the 1970s-80s) and other wedding decorations in those cars. I occasionally made out in one of them. The mats my dad got for the first station wagon fit the second one and as a teenager, the combination of comfort and space behind the rear bench seat meant serious snogging. I saw Conan the Barbarian (also featured making out) from the back of that car.

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Main reason for posting these vintage cars is the memories I have of their durability, their non-durability, their quirks and all the miles shared with friends and family.

Daily affirmation: Stop treating the computer like a friend. It’s just a tool.

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