The cars of my youth...used to peak in every car window. Mom, dad or whichever grownup in possession of me would tell me to stop, to stop getting my face and fingerprints on strange people's car windows. We could be at the A&P and I'd be glued into the strange person's car window. I looked at the exteriors too, but there was this draw once I opened the door of our car and climbed out to see what was next door--which mandatoraly included smashing my face and hands (just the sides to block out any distraction). Could name every car on the planet at six, which of course consisted of all American. Had a vague allegance to European sports and luxury cars, and a stong draw to "antique" cars from my dad's youth (Duesenburgs weren't even 40 then!) Very few us us, even the rich, owned "one of those foreign jobs" back hen. There were the
occassionaion hippies who had a bug or some "Jap rice burner," but
otherwise it was American all the way.
