First things first--I'm not a "car guy", at least not in the typical sense. Ninety-nine percent of the time, a car to me is just a means to an end, a machine that simply allows me to get from one place to another.
The sound of a revving engine doesn't make my pulse race, and unlike my 8- and 10-year-old sons, I don't drop what I'm doing and fall into a reverential trance every time a supercar rolls by. And after all these years, I still have to look up the word "torque" to know what it means, and then when I do look it up, I forget what I just read almost immediately. (Toyota defines "torque" as "a twisting force that speaks to the engine's rotational force and measures how much of that twisting force is available when an engine exerts itself". Um, okay.)
Having said all that, I do have my own points of entry though which I become a full-on "car guy", at least momentarily, and in my own peculiar way.
Once or twice a year, for example, I partake in what my buddy Colin calls "NASCAR Sunday", which in this case means a full day in his man cave basement with endless snacks, as much beer as I can handle (which is increasingly less the older I get), and the mandatory indoor wearing of ball caps. Because I simply cherish the chance to hang out and connect with this dear lifelong friend, I can feel myself start to care about the day's race at the physiological level, even though I'm not naturally wired to find "cars driving in a circle" interesting. (Thankfully, Colin accepts me for who I am, and can read the subtext of my self-deprecating humor when I inevitably tell him I'm rooting for Ricky Bobby.)
My other point of entry into that world is via the overall experience and ambience of local cruise nights in general, and the aesthetics of old muscle cars and hot rods in particular. (I'm also a guy who simply digs old stuff, period, so there's that.)
In addition to it being a years-long weekly tradition with my sons and I, my attraction to our local cruise night is that to me it is an outdoor art exhibit, albeit one focusing on a very specific strain of industrial and graphic arts. My overall taste in visual art as an adult was at least partially-formed in those years when I was studying graphic design in high school, and then layout design and photography as a college journalism student. Especially in high school, in those years just before desktop publishing took over the world and put bad fonts in the hands of millions, I gained a deep appreciation for typography and calligraphy, as well as any kind of design work done by hand.
And so, when I'm perusing the vehicles at a cruise night, I'll find myself fixating on specific design features, including those involving graphical and typographical elements, though I do also admire the overall forms of the vehicle bodies.
Taken altogether, there was something elegant and dashing (but also testosterone-driven) about the design approach of those older vehicles. And then, somewhere in my childhood, the field of car design collectively lost its erection (thank you, Nixon-era fuel crisis and Carter-era recession), and that is the point where I, as an admirer of vintage car aesthetics, find my interest start to wane.
In any case, this series of pictures isn't meant to be a comprehensive overview of the cars that were at the June 28 edition of the Kanata Cruise Night, which doubles as a fundraiser for the Children's Hospital of Eastern Ontario (CHEO)--rather, it is simply a record of where my eye was drawn and where it chose to linger.
As a matter of housekeeping, I have removed the license plate numbers in these pictures, both to protect the privacy of the owners, and to mitigate the risk of car theft occuring as a result of any information being shown here.
And on a final note, if you're wondering what kind of person is a car guy (or gal), it's worth mentioning that the $140 cash prize from that evening's 50/50 draw was donated back to CHEO.
ABOVE: While the cruise night scene may have a preponderance of men, women are also welcome, and can be just as cagey about protecting their rides.
What's the point of owning a van if you can't turn it into a psychedelic love shack on wheels? (Spoiler alert--no such point exists.)
It seems very fitting these 1950's cars (above and below) would sport hood ornaments shaped like this, seeing as how that era of car design coincided with the onset of the Jet Age.
ABOVE: A Motörhead fan?
ABOVE: I took this picture despite the shadows that were splayed across the pavement and over the grills of these Mustangs, assuming it would be a wasted shot. Once I took a look at what I had, however, I realized they serve to draw the eye to (and thus help highlight) the vehicles. (Being able to incorporate long shadows into your composition is but one of a few reasons to shoot during the "golden hour", when the sun is at a low angle. As for shooting vintage cars, a low-angled sun will add depth, intensify the colors, and make the chrome sparkle.)
If you're ever looking to give the straight world a raised middle finger, using a "rat rod" like the one above as your primary transportation just might do the trick.
I put an "Easter egg" in one of the above picures. Can you find it? If so, be the first to identify its location in a comment below, and I will donate $10.00 in your name to the CHEO Foundation, or any children's hospital of your choice.
