My Mom passed away in March after a long bout with cancer. Ever since, the smallest, goofiest of memories take on almost cosmic importance. Right now, they're all we've got.The other day, we were at Walmart (my absolute all-time least favorite place to be) to get cat litter or sinus headache medicine or something. As usual, I cruised down the Hot Wheels/Johnny Lightning/Matchbox aisle. And I came across a pre-painted 1:24 scale model of an orange 1974 Chevy Vega. And the memories hit me like the Santa Fe Super Chief.
We had a pair of Vegas. Brand new '74s. Both orange. Dad had the GT with the rally stripe and the white interior—exactly like the one you see above. Mom's was the station wagon (no fake wood on the side, thank God). Black interior. Sorry, couldn't find a picture of it. I thought they looked so damn cool sitting together in our Cary, North Carolina, driveway.
It was in that Vega wagon that Mom drove me and my best friend James to see JAWS at the Village Theatre in the summer of '75. Not to mention hauling us all over Raleigh to buy monster models and monster magazines and monster whatever-the-hell-else. I was 10.
Eventually, my aunt ended up with the GT. Not sure where the wagon went.
Of course, Vegas are now known for their problems. All-aluminum engines crapping out. Rust. Interiors falling apart. But I don't remember us having any trouble with ours. (Sadly, when you see them now, either they're stacked three-high waiting for the crusher, or some gearhead has turned it into some sorta pro stock drag machine.) Chevy sold a bunch of them.
Anyway, standing in that damn Walmart looking at that toy car, all that stuff came crashing back. Mom. The cars. James. JAWS. The monsters. The Delco radio. The black vinyl seats being hotter than 40 hells in the summer. Good times. If my childhood was a baseball bat, those Vega years would certainly be the sweet spot.
So, for once, my trip to the dreaded land of Sam Walton ended on a positive note. And by the way, my daughter gave me the model for Father's Day.
4 comments:
Toby:
Sorry to hear about your Mom. I was wondering how that whole scenario was playing out. My condolences, pal!
Vega? Yep, we had one, too. Ours was a blue 1972 model. We got it second-hand from one of my Dad's buddies at work. It was so cool for these reasons:
1. It was the newest car we had owned since the 1959 Rambler we ended up junking in 1967.
2. It was the first car we ever had with A/C!
3. It had an AM/FM radio. This was really important to a teenaged college student back in 1976!
Glad to hear you got the model kit for Father's Day. Have you built it up yet..?
Yep, it's all together and sitting proudly atop the fridge to be admired by all who pass.
Wish I had more time (and skill) for stuff like models. I bought all those Ed Roth and Weirdo re-issue kits back in the late 90s--and they're all packed away doing nothing.
I have fond, fond memories of those cars. And Scotty's Chuckwagon, and the newsstand @ Crabtree called DJ's and Charles Chips and boiled peanuts...
I knew you'd remember them. If I was to win the lottery or something, I'd have perfectly restored ones just like them sitting in my driveway.
A guy I used to freelance with went to the big property auction they had right before North Hills was torn down. He has the plywood cowboy thing from Scotty's. It's so cool!
Post a Comment