The mind can deviate to all sorts of weirdness when it comes to cars. Baby on Board signs. ‘Rims’ that cost more than the actual vehicle. The ungodly use of purples, yellows and lime greens on entry level econoboxes. Then there’s the real deals. Cars that are so hysterically and vomitously ugly that only it’s creator can appreciate the rancid spewage. I see a lot of that at the auctions. Let me give you a few true classics of the trade…
Imagine a Plymouth Prowler adorned with Monopoly dollar bills that are dyed purple with the words, “Mr. Millionz!!!” adorned on every panel and interior part. Is that not bad enough? How about a Harley covered in leopard skin fur on every surface from the seats to the handle bars. We actually tried to remove all that crap from a late model Harley, and ended up with purple fur that was even more hideous. What else?
One unique affectation that I saw in Atlanta a few years ago were ‘bullet holes’. First there were the fake bullet holes with ‘dramatic green’ effects on them. Okay I could deal with that since Neons, Taurus Wagons, and Cavaliers seemed to be the most afflicted. But then I started seeing some really strange deviations of it. The wagon with real bullet holes. Juniors first car adorned with dozens of holes that could only come from a BB gun. Cars with hoods that were punctured with what looked like really sharp rakes since a gun wasn’t available. But then I saw something that was truly hideous a few years ago.
People memorializing their cars in honor of dead people. Don’t get me wrong. I’m probably one of the biggest promoters of having a ‘keeper’ in the family. But the only car that should ever be dedicated to a dead person is a hearse. When I see someone telling the world that they’re dedicating their commuter to the dearly departed, I feel sorry for them. Not just for the loss but for the fact that they’re using their Buick in place of a proper memorial. Or a nice dinner for two. Hell, when I pass on the last thing I want to do is remind a fellow driver that someday soon they will also snuff it. Life’s too short for daily deathly reminders. That’s why when I become the punchline to a Monty Python dead parrot sketch, I want to be shot out of a cannon facing the ocean and have my best friends go fishing with plenty of beer. Maybe they could put the cannon on the boat and shoot me out several times. Hey, life’s short.