S-w-e-e-t!
Three tone Roadmaster. I learned how to drive in that beastie starting at age 12. Sat on phone directories.
S-w-e-e-t!
Three tone Roadmaster. I learned how to drive in that beastie starting at age 12. Sat on phone directories.
My wife stalledher dad’s new 56 Roadmaster on the railroad tracks and got it cut in half.
Her remark to the cops and ambulance was “don’t tell my father”!
Oh that car is SWEET!
Your comment about sitting on phone directories reminded me of the ‘car seat’ my Dad constructed while we had that ‘51 Buick, it was nothing but a wooden crate that he upholstered with fabric and foam padding, it looked quite stylish and I sat on that thing in the middle of the back seat (so I could see where we were going instead of being down below the window line unable to see), nobody worried too much about ‘safety’ and ‘crash tests’ and all of that noise in those days, that’s because there was a higher quality of driver on the road, on average. They weren’t wasting time talking on the phone, or ‘texting’ or any of this ‘new’ damn silliness that ends up killing people.