Photograph by Scott Williamson
Letter From The Editor: Low Riding for Free
October 1, 2004
Don and I met one another when we were 2 years old. A rock-throwing episode a few years later cemented a lifelong friendship, involving everything from horned toad hunting to pilfering magazines from his dad’s copious Playboy collection. We shared everything–most notably, the anticipation of our first cars. Of course the wait was interminable, and we spent the better part of several years deliberating about what each of us would eventually drive.
I wanted a Porsche, which was out of the question, but I’d saved enough money for a used BMW 1600. In 1972, only the odd enthusiast even knew what a BMW was, but I didn’t care. The red box on wheels suited me to a tee, utilitarian and honest in a way that German cars of the period were.
Don opted for something more mainstream and found a nice, stock 1955 Chevrolet Bel Air. I pictured Jimmy Stewart behind the wheel, and was frankly unimpressed. But Don had other ideas, and within days, he’d denuded the car of trim, door handles, and antenna; filled the holes; and primered it gray. His parents were aghast, which only inflamed his resolve. Within a week it was slammed to terra firma, riding on chrome rims and whitewalled tires. A low rider was born.
The San Fernando Valley of the 1970s was a hotbed of cruising activity, and Don took ample advantage of the phenomenon. That was an era when lowered cars attracted more female passengers than BMWs did, and the Chevy could handily accommodate four in addition to Don and myself. The interior looked like the inside of Liberace’s coffin, with velvet tuck-and-roll upholstery and a gold fur dash. With tinted windows all around and Hendrix on the 8-track, the car was essentially a playpen on wheels. And play we did.
It is a known fact that smart persons cultivate acquaintances who own yachts
and airplanes, thereby obviating the drawbacks while affording all the benefits
of personal ownership. At the age of 16, I reaped the rewards of such an ethos
vis-à-vis Don’s low rider, a vehicular wonder I had managed to exploit freely
and regularly without the slightest need to buy one for myself. It was a lesson
I should have taken to heart before launching my own midlife itch/scratch cycle
of old-car collecting. But I have learned that “what goes around comes around,”
and now it’s Don’s turn to ride for free.
Photograph by Scott Williamson/www.photodesignstudios.com. Automobile courtesy
Mike Lopez.
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