I’ve
always had a penchant for vintage cars. Over the years I’ve driven
some pretty distinctive ones — from a 1963 Cadillac to a 1977 AMC
Matador. In recent years changes in life, location and economics prevented
me from maintaining the grand boats I’d been so fond of, so I pretty
much stuck to a new economy car for my current travel needs.
I had a brief stint with an early ’70s Ford LTD that had once belonged
to my uncle — but I simply couldn’t handle the $60 it took
to fill it up, only to be able to drive around 180 miles before having
to visit the gas station again (a wide-eyed teenager with dreams of macdaddy
status is now the proud owner of that mean machine).
So I was back to the boring American economy car again. For the next two
years I drove about in relative anonymity, living vicariously through others
who might pull up beside me at a traffic light in some museum piece of
the past.
Until two weeks ago.
A friend called and said he had this car he wanted to sell — he thought
it was perfect for me.
“It’s a 1963 Ford Falcon,” he explained. “Relatively
small body, six-cylinder engine — so it gets pretty good gas mileage.
It’s
pretty cool looking.”
.........................
“I remember what they look like,” I told him. “My grandfather
used to have one. My dad had a woody station wagon version of one.”
The following day my partner and I took a look at the little blue car.
It was in great running condition and the interior was fine — but
it was in desperate need of a paint job and some body work.
“We’ll take it,” I told him.
A few days later the car was in the body shop. A week later it came out
with a sparkling new royal blue paint job — looking not too unlike
it probably did back in 1963.
There’s something about driving a piece of history that makes the
trip so much more of an experience.
Especially when you think about all the things that have happened in the
world since the car rolled off the assembly line over 43 years ago.
On the upside for the little blue car were spaceflights to the moon. Schools
were desegregated. The political landscape got a massive overhaul as more
and more minorities — many of them gay and lesbian — were elected
to office. The Falcon’s wheels have kept right on rolling since the
Stonewall Riots in 1969 all the way through gay marriage in multiple countries
around the globe and even here at home in the state of Massachusetts. During
all eight years of the glorious Clinton years, there was the Falcon.
On the downside of things for the little rolling time machine were the
deaths of people like President John F. Kennedy, Sen. Robert Kennedy and
civil rights leader Martin Luther King. All throughout the Vietnam war
the little blue car chugged along, while more than five million lives were
lost. Its journey has continued while an estimated 20,000,000 have been
claimed by a global AIDS pandemic.
How much the world has changed during this car’s lifetime.
I don’t recall the ’60s and ’70s as politically volatile
as the world is today. But then — I was just a child during that
time.
I don’t remember people wearing religion on their sleeve and looking
at you with disdain if you didn’t conform to their belief system.
I don’t recall people screaming about “God’s retribution” every
time a storm struck or somebody had a heart attack.
Fact of the matter was, nobody really was questioning issues of sexuality
and religion back then like they do today. It was a “Leave It To
Beaver” kind of time, I suppose. The world didn’t want to talk
about anything scandalous or negative.
At the dawn of the car’s existence, there were very few openly gay
or lesbian individuals willing to stand up and be counted — for fear
of retribution from a population that still labeled them as psychological
deviants.
From that perspective, it’s impossible to label the past as a better
place. Maybe there were no Ford boycotts by the American Family Association
or a president biting at the bit to permanently relegate gays and lesbians
to second class citizens, but then there were no gays and lesbians demanding
partnership benefits from Ford or marriage equality from a country that
calls itself “the land of the free.”
As recently as the late 20th century in the U.S., gays and lesbians were
not even spoken of in some quarters. As we have gained political strength
and most of the country has come to believe that we deserve the same rights
and respect as our heterosexual counterparts, the voices of our oppressors
have grown increasingly loud. I think that’s a sign of progress.
I’m glad I have the little blue car to remind me of how far we’ve
come.
David Moore Editor
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