My mother had a 1965 Chevrolet Impala convertible, and it was an amazing car - the lines, its shapes, the way the tailights leap from the trunk lid; God that car was beautiful.
It came to us, via my father, through a deal that dad had with local Chevrolet dealership. Dad handled their legal affairs, and we got a new Impala for my mother and dad got a Bel Air for himself. My father called from the office one day, and according to my mother, said that Blaushield wanted back the 1962 red Imapala convertible (which he just happened to have that day) asked what color Impala she wanted. After years of Red Chevy convertibles, a '57, a '60 and the '62, my mother wanted something different. "Black. Black, Black, Black," she said somewhat annoyed. So my father went to Blaushield Chevrolet and found a brand spanking new all black Impala for her. Black car. Black vinyl seats, black top. It was the most beautiful thing on wheels. Must have been because I was but a wee me, and even I remember that heart stopping car.
Whatever GM did to design 1965 Impala, evidently struck a chord. They sold more full sized cars that year than ever before. A lot of people fell in love with that car.
Sure you could have fried an egg on the black plastic seats in summer. But sometimes, beauty is more important than comfort. Thats why the 1965 Chevrolet Impala is one of my most perfect cars.
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ReplyDeleteNorman - what was that?
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