Do you like the attention your car gets?

Me and a friend were discussing this the other day.

Everywhere I go someone comments on my car. I used to think it was cool but sometimes it gets downright aggravating. Like when I'm trying to get gas and somebody (who usually doesn't know much about cars) starts asking questions and asks me to pop the hood and stuff.

Or when people honk their horn or flash their lights at me... I appreciate the intent of the gesture but those are signals that usually indicate trouble of some sort so then I have to check to make sure everything is OK.

I have a straight six in my Falcon and people will chew my ear off about how I can swap in a V8. Or they will suggest some lame trend like spinner wheels.

Is there some kind of non-sequiter you guys use to keep conversations with the un-knowledgeable short and sweet?

Granted, I've had plenty of nice encounters with people, especially fellow hot rodders or people who otherwise would not have spoken to me. But the wierd encounters far outnumber the good ones

 

I get annoyed too sometimes and then I remember how cool I am and I can't really blame them.

 

My expereience has been just the opposite. The positive encounters far outweigh the wierd ones. For the most part I enjoy the attention. Believe it or not, there are a ton of hot rodders in NW Indiana where I live, so that may have something to do with it.

 

Consider this...when someone wants to talk about 'your' car and the one they had "exactly" like it...take a couple of minutes out of your hectic day and chat...you mite find that they know of where another is for sale...and here's the kicker...WHEN (and that day is coming) the government decides to eliminate all cars (fuel guzzlers & polluters in their eyes) older than 15 years, you'll have made a friend that will help you oppose such legislation...

R-

 

I've driven old cars daily for 20 years, I do it for ME. It cracks me up when car ads say "Real head turner" or "Real conversation starter" Yeah, that's what I want every time I drive... I know, I'm a grouch, sometimes it's nice. It's the idea that people are seeking attention on purpose when they get an old car, that blows me away. Seems like the wrong motivation. It's funny, if I'm out of town in a rental car I realize "Oh yeah, nobody's staring at me." It's so relaxing that it's almost creepy.

 

Just a half hour ago, my Boss sticks his head in my office and sez that there are two photogs and a model doing a mini shoot in front of my '37 in the parking lot. It was a teen boy model so I didn't venture out to gander. As long as my truck doesn't end up as the covershot of the NAMBLA newsletter, I'm good with it.

 

it bothers me when someone likes my car more then me of course i grew up around old cars hot rods racing etc, so to me its really no big deal? but some people who dont have a car yet it means alot to give them 5-10 minutes of b/s'ing and help em out. people who dont know anything i try and edjimicate em now sometimes to attention is kind of cool, like the last race of the season here this kid 6-7? and his dad were walking around checking everything out i was a few rows over talking to a couple of buddies and this kid stuck his head in the window and was about ready to open the door his dad about had a fit made him heel, i seen it, walked over opened it and told the kid to get in, he was happier then hell, so sometimes it bothers me, and sometimes it dont haha.

 

I didn't put my Olds together to seek any attention, I just love messin' with old cars. I don't drive my old shit around because I want people to ask questions or offer comments (both good and bad) .

I would have a hard time beleiving anyone that says that they don't enjoy the attention that they get when someone offers an ATTABOY from time to time!!!! Besides, some very good friends have been made from that type of attention!!!!

 

I get a whole range of people. I hate when they start talking about what they would do or what I should do. For the most part its positive.

 

Or when people honk their horn or flash their lights at me... I appreciate the intent of the gesture but those are signals that usually indicate trouble of some sort so then I have to check to make sure everything is OK.

This can be a bit worrying,but for the most part its kind of Kool that in these days of enviornmental scaremongering the Kripple Kart still manages to put a grin on peoples faces.However,if she didn't I'd say f*ck 'em all and use her anyway.

 

I agree. I tell my wife I feel like a rockstar sometimes. People know me by name and I feel bad cos I have no clue who they are. They know me from my car. Some of my best friends I met from them aproaching me about my car. A thumbs up from an old lady passing by is the best.

 

speaking up thumps old from an old lady, i was cruising aorund about 3 months ago, and droe up to a light and up next to me pulls a CHERRY hudson hornet!!! i was sitting there told the guy nice hudson hornet!! his wife gave me thumbs up and said they were glad a youngin knew what a hornet was!

 

I like it when its some hot ass chick(s), little kids or some older people.

some older people call my 50 a low rider that kinda makes me mad

Little kids always look and point its cool maybe that seeing my car will some day make them look back on it and be like I want to build a car like that one I saw when I was little like I have done

best shit ever was when i had my 58 GMC and I was sitting at a stop light and a fine chick in the car next to me with her boy friend got out of the car and got in with me!!Pissed ol' boy off pretty bad. I didnt even know the chick!

 

Doesn't bother me one bit! Won't hear me complain. Kinda like those chicks who get a boob job then get pissed when you look at them. Most people just want to tell you they like your car or ask what year it is. The thing that creeps me out is the camera phones sticking out the window of vehicles.

 

My kids alway ask me when they are riding around in my truck if I know those people. They wonder why they give the thumbs up or make a comment about it. Best was the three young ladies that mooned me one summer afternoon on the main drag in town.

 

I really like when Kids get all wide eyed about it. That always makes me smile.

 

I love it.

The only thing I hate is when someone gets right beside my open window and blares the horn in approval. Otherwise, all comments positive or negative are welcomed, in some ways it's like a social experiment.

 

I doubt that any of us would have built an old car if we did not want to be noticed. We love our hot rods but we love to be recognized for what we do with them.
Later,
Dick

 

Well there are limits - or maybe not. I was parked at a cruise in one night, wandered off to have dinner and came back to my car to find three teenage chicks sitting in it.

 

i like the attention most of the time until people try to get me to put a big block in it. i tell them the six has a sound that can't be better. too many people around here have big blocks and that muscle car sound. it's old.
i like it when kids adore my truck but then the parents grab them away cuz it ain't shiny. that's the part i hate the most. other wise i like it.

 

it was fun untill i found out all the people i thought were waving at me were actually giving me the finger...

 

We don't drive hot rods to be ignored,,,I would think most of us enjoy the occasional thumbs up.

The ones I don't care for are the "is it glass or steel?" questions,,always ask by someone that doesn't have a clue.

I really don't mind the gas station or the parking lot questions,,people just admiring our cars. HRP

 

And you cant pick your nose because eveyone is watching!

 

Sunday an escalde pulled up next o me at the light. The rear window rolls down and the kid in the back was taking pics. The light turned green so I blew the tires off through first and a little through 2nd. I guess I'm kindof a showoff.

 

why not

 

I drive old cars for my own personal enjoyment. don't care if other people like them or think I am cool because of it. thumbs up people and those that want to talk to me about my cars don't bother me.

 

My Comet doesnt get as much attention as some of the stuff I've owned but yeah, it's pretty annoying as far as I'm concerned. A couple of weeks ago at the gas station some guy told me my Mopar was cool and a dude at Walmart said it was a shame that I'm not going to restore it (he was driving a four door Honda). I like my car but would prefer if the general public didnt.

 

Sometimes it's cool, and sometimes it's a pain in the ass.

The old guy who approached me at the gas station to tell me that he bought a 65 Riviera just like mine brand new back in 65, and that I had done a great job bringing this one back to life? He was a pretty cool old man, and I thanked him for the compliment.

The mullet with rotton chiclets who cornered me at 7-11 when I was in the Riviera, and felt that I would really like to hear about the 79 Malibu 4 door he had in high school, for like, 20 fucking minutes? Yeah, I could do without that guy. I thought I'd never get away from him.

For the most part it's OK, but some people will absolutely chew my ear off about a bunch of shit that I couldn't care less about.

 

Spread the Gospel of Traditional Hot Rods and Customs.

If you don't like attention, you could always drive a Camry.

 

Here's one of my Good Guy Gazette "columns", written a few months ago...follows along the same lines...

Enjoy...

R-

Inspiration, now and then.

So I was reading one of Ryan Cochran’s Jalopy Journal (www.jalopyjournal.com) entries…about how he thinks of cars all the time…whether at home, at work and even driving to and from work where he lives in Austin, Texas, in one of his hot rods… and how most people he associates with think he is B.S. Looney (sorry, G-rated magazine here…use your imagination…or, if you’ve read his entry, you’ll understand.) Anyway, my own thoughts reading that entry sent my head screaming back to the early 1980’s and how I used to drive my hot rod to work. I’d just “finished” my ’40 Stude coop (initiated in 1977/’78, took several years to “finish&#8221…new Cadillac Firemist Lime Green paint, ghost flames, emblems removed, new two tone green interior, new 400” SBC engine/ T400 tranny …I had only a few thousand miles on it…it was, at the time, a “street rod”-- nose down, painted steel Ralley wheels with small ‘cop car’ hubcaps, blackwalls, chromed bumpers and trim and some tasteful turquoise pinstriping…nothing extraordinary with the exception of -- it wasn’t a Ford or Chevy…it was an orphan…an off-brand.

I drove it to work. I’m kind of a car crazy guy myself…always let it creep into my every day happenings…while driving to work, I was in my own little world (most of the time) as I traversed the 22 miles from my home to the southern Denver area. People would look at me strangely while I was driving that coop amongst all the ‘80’s cars on the street…it stood out like a sore thumb (like after someone had lowered the engine into its final resting place on the engine mount and your thumb happened to be in the same spot…!!!). And that is definitely sore…!!!

Here I was, attired in a sport coat, button down collar business shirt and a tie, driving to work, maneuvering my hot rod amongst late models of all kinds…some guys would give me a thumbs up…some guys would goose their own car away from a traffic light trying to initiate a street race with me, at 7:00 AM in the morning (and I’d like to think I was more intelligent than that to even bite) and the gals would usually just smile (I’m not sure, now, if it was a smile…or a smirk…hmmmmmmmm, guess I’ll never know). My trip across town took approximately 35-40 minutes…even my employer thought I was nutty driving “that kind of car” to work…but he never forbade me to…and since he wasn’t paying me a vehicle allowance (I did get a mileage fee), there wasn’t much he could say about it. Besides, there was an ultimate method to my madness.

I’d park on the street in front of my office, next to my window…“keeping an eye” on the coop for a few hours while I set up my day…at that time I sold commercial printing and graphic art services -- all this B.C -- Before Computers. Once the day was set, appointments made, I was off…I got to drive my “hot rod” for business…and it was pure fun…all day!!! And there were days I racked up 150 - 250 miles in and around the city of Denver…I had no “territory” as I was the only salesman the company had. My clients loved it…well, most did…and they all knew the exact moment I pulled into their parking lot…I was usually announced immediately…or my clients would see me pull up in front of their place and they were already expecting me...sometimes they’d come out to meet me in the parking lot. “Hey Rog, I was telling Fred here about your car…he wanted to see it, can you open the hood?” Or they’d ask for a ride…both of them…three in a coop was a bit tight, but that didn’t stop me from slamming the accelerator to the floor more than once leaving traffic lights and snapping some necks. That always elicited a remark: “Lots more pickup than my (fill in the blank) car” or “What’ll she run in a quarter mile?”

I was downtown on Denver’s 17th Street, its financial district, one afternoon for an appointment. When downtown, I would park at a meter on the street…I hated to “hide” my hot rod in one of the office high rise’s basement parking lots…besides, hidden away from all eyes offered too many temptations for those less than honest. I backed into the street parking spot, got out and locked the passenger side door (there was no outside lock on the driver’s side, cuz, way back when the car was manufactured, you HAD to be a gentleman and let your lady friend in …FIRST…and you had to hold the door for her!!). We’ve sure progressed past that a bit, haven’t we…???

Anyway, a small, gray haired gentleman was walking by slowly as I slid out of the car…I didn’t pay much attention to him as I dug in my pocket for some coinage to feed the meter. He stopped, looked, stepped into the street and proceeded to walk around the car twice.

“Studebaker. Nineteen-forty,” he said, directing his gaze toward me.

“Correct,” I said. “Good eye. Most people don’t have any idea what the lazy S on the front stands for.”

“Oh, I knew what it was without even seeing the S,” he shot back. “Commander model, right?”

I was taken aback…he certainly was confident in what he was looking at. “You used to sell Studebakers? You were a dealer at some time in the past?” I asked.

He laughed. “No, nothing like that. A bit simpler - I probably built that car for you.”

“No, I built it,” I replied. “…started on it a few years ago…just got it done.”
He laughed again. “I meant in the factory.”

“Oh. Whoa. Wait.” I said, finally grasping what he was saying. “You built this car in the factory? In Indiana?”

“Possibly, I worked in the Studebaker plant back then…I was just a youngster, but I had my hands in a lot of those models back then.”

“And you worked on the ‘40’s?” I asked.

“Yes, and the ‘41’s…before I got drafted,” he said.

He told me how he was a helper…how he’d done a lot of different odd jobs on the line at the Studebaker plant and how he used to drive some of them out to a holding lot as they came off the line…he said there weren’t such things as “robots” doing welding, or assembling, on the lines back then…most everything was done by hand. We chatted for a while and I finally had to end it as I had an appointment…and I was almost late for it. I regretted having to leave…I’m sure he could have told me some stories…and I neglected to give him my card, or get his name because I was in such a hurry.

Here it is, 68-69 years past the day my ’40 Studebaker Commander rolled off the assembly line…and even if a man was 20 years of age when he worked there, that’d make someone that worked on the line, now 88 (and at least 60 years of age in the ‘80’s when this incident took place) …regrets about not getting his name or phone number that day still follow me.

Worse part of all that is there surely cannot be many more of those guys left around that worked on the assembly lines in the early years…I’d speculate a lot of them probably went off to the big war…and if they did stay home, the automobile assembly lines they worked on started turning out tanks, or bombers…and that is something that has never happened since, fortunately.

And that takes me back to Ryan, thinking about hot rods all day long and every waking minute…and guess what…??? Hate to say it Ryan, but thinking about hot rods doesn’t get any easier, or any less, as you get older…it’s in the blood.

At least, that’s the way I remember it.
Roger