WILKES-BARRE — Warmer weather signals the return of a lot of things, like festivals, bazaars, outside dining, tops down on convertibles and car shows.
Let’s talk about those car shows that feature antique, classic and vintage cars of yesteryear. They are so cool, man.
Cars were spectacular back in the ’50s and ’60s — GTOs, Camaros, Mustangs, Corvettes, Road Runners, Dodge Darts, Chevelles, Barricudas, Thunderbirds, Beetles, Ramblers, Studebakers, Corvairs, Pintos, Furys, Marlins, Gremlins, Mavericks, Cougars, Impalas, Fairlanes, Cutlasses, Continentals, Galaxys, El Dorados, Cordobas, LeSabres, Biscaynes, BelAirs and many more. I might have missed a few.
They were so distinctive — and the color combinations were amazing. Not to mention the power under the hood. Those cars were fascinating and fun.
Today, cars all look alike and most of them are white — apparently the preferred flavor for today’s SUV-driving motorists.
Mine was a 1966 Pontiac GTO, light blue, white rag top, white interior. Pretty specific, but that’s the car I had following high school graduation. It was a beauty.
These were the pre-automatic car wash days when you washed your car out by the curb in front of your house. You had a bucket, a sponge, soap and maybe a hose, if it reached that far. And soft terrycloth towels — unless you had a “shammy” — a genuine leather chamois cloth.
I had to drag our hose through our basement and out the coal chute window to get to the curb.
But I loved to wash my ‘66 GTO, or my 1964 Valiant, or dad’s Ford Torino, or Plymouth Road Runner. It was a task we all learned and enjoyed.
After the car was all soaped up, you then either used that hose or you kept filling up that bucket with clean water to splash away the soap.
And then, glowing in the shade of that old maple tree with the sunlight filtering through, you stood and admired that car before you went in to take a bath before heading out on a Saturday night.
Ooops, I almost forgot — Brillo pads — the steel wool square with the pink soapy stuff showing through. Yes, it was time to clean the whitewalls on the tires.
Whitewalls? Yes, the 1-inch or so wide white stripe that went around the tires and were just do darn cool, man. As long as they were bright white. Nothing was more un-cool than dirty whitewalls, man.
So, this week I hopped into the whitewall-less Way Back Machine and headed back to the 1960s again to check out those awesome white-walled cars.
What I discovered on my most recent voyage back in time was that those glorious whitewall tires started disappearing in the early ’60s and were all but gone by the end of that decade.
What a shame, man.
Standing out in front of C. Matus’ News on Main Street in Plymouth was what we cool kids did back then. It was where we gathered before we decided where we were going on any particular Friday or Saturday night.
We would go inside and shoot some pool, or play the pinball machines until it was time to head out to Sandy Beach or Hanson’s or Sans Souci. Or maybe a Wilkes or King’s dance.
I have been lucky enough to travel most of the old Route 66 — a hallowed highway that all of the aforementioned cars traveled.
Riding on Route 66 really was a kick — and white-walled tires were aplenty, I’m sure.
But in the ‘60s, our favorite destination was Wildwood, New Jersey. We loved it there and we always had fun. We would spend our days on the beach soaking up the rays, then back to the motel for a swim and a shower and then we would head out to the Boardwalk.
One of my pals, Bob Barney, celebrated his birthday yesterday — Happy Birthday pal!
Bob had a 1960 yellow Karmann Ghia, which by the late ‘60s had seen better days. To take the Karmann Ghia to the shore was an adventure all its own — but we made it.
It would be awesome to have that car today and take a trip down the shore again. Just to reminisce and sing along to the greatest music ever.
Now that really would be a great road trip.
I’ll even wash the car before and after.