Mommobile

There was a time when it seemed like about 3 out of 5 kids in the U.S. climbed into one of these every Monday through Friday and got transported to school. It was an era just before soccer became what American parents did on Saturday mornings, a time when moms mostly stayed home to manage the household, when cars had cigarette lighters and ashtrays that needed to be emptied as likely as not. "Terror" referenced two year-olds, unsupervised boys at a grade school dance, and Friday night movies on the independent channels. Bigger, better, faster, more. These cars transported the American family on the road to certain affluence.

I have to admit, I am among the vulnerable who sees these old cars and feels the urge to indulge in an expedition into fossil fueled nostalgia. Old cars do have a certain cool factor for some of us-- even the 10 passenger variety.  And I say this fully realizing that a contemporary minivan offers more space, greater safety and far superior fuel economy, just like a contemporary Chevy or Ford is probably a far superior vehicle to a vintage Cadillac or Mercedes in every facet from economy to comfort, and certainly to safety.

But that's not the point, the appeal, of these old cars. Much of the appeal of these old cars is simply what they were, not what they are. They allow one to slip behind the wheel and recall that, when you first rode in one the world was a different place: Safer, happier, more predictable; and the future was as bright as the chrome on the bumpers. It doesn't matter to the buyer of these relics that the car lacks anti-lock brakes or airbags or tensioning seat belts. You're buying a time machine, not transportation.

For me, this particular vehicle, the Ford Country Squire Wagon was a fixture where I grew up in LA. And later, at 18 or so, it was the land yacht that took me, my girlfriend, and her sister on one of those magical road trips of one's youth. Even so, no matter how much explaining I can do, no one I presently know can see this as anything but a weird looking big 'ol car. Frankly, I'm okay with that. It's just the kind of thing I don't need and of which I would tire within a week or two. I think.

If you, however, find this automotive beauty is something you simply cannot live without, go here to see more photos and check it out. And if the hook sets deep, make sure to give me a call when you're out to pick it up. I'd love to take it for a drive.