In the 40's 'radical' was 'neat'

Most classic cars are inherently beautiful, they have lines that are artistic not functional, bring about daydreams of careless summer afternoons, and are undeniably radi-cool. Plus when people hear you saying words like 'classic' and 'vintage' they always think you're saying something interesting and you must be the gate keeper of niche knowledge (until they realise that you're talking about Mortal Kombat on Super Nintendo or when porn used to involve more pubes, in which case they'd be right, ladies!).

As you looked at the picture before you read this (Gen Y is inherenty lazy... deal) you've already seen the beautiful and utterly unique lines on this 1948 Buick Streamliner by Norman E. Timbs. The design is stunning, perhaps even more so due to how un-functional it is; for a car that is staggeringly long it really is a one and a half seater, which is great because I have a thing for midgets.



But we all know the point of this car isnt the engine, specs, or fuel, the man driving this car is the king of cool. Period. It could be a penniless hobo trying for the world record for longest fingernails and he'd still get ass (true story, I read somewhere that women are shallow).



It's pretty much a guarantee that when this car was produced kids in overalls and plaid shirts would run up to this car as it parked in front of the local drug store and go "gee mister that car is neat-o". And yes, my image of the past is entirely shaped by hollywood films, you try faulting Pleasantville.

Good Day Sir...