The Brocker's old high school boyfriend races cars for fun.
Every time I hear this tune I think of him, haw haw:
Back in the day they knew how to style a ride. All the cars in the 50s had sweet lines. No angles, no aerodynamic horseshit, just heavy metal and horsepower. You hit a deer with one a them and the deer died and you could pound out the minor dents at home.
Flathead V8s. Ah, no other sound like one winding out at 6 grand.
I omitted Beach Boys, Deuce Coupe, Jan & Dean, bubble gum music.
I am not sweet on Fords, but this is a nice song. And Henry Ford is a Brother. So was Ransom Olds for that matter.
Detroit made, when that meant something. Gordy Howe and the Redwings, the Motown Sound, all the cars that mattered.
Like this deuce-and-a-quarter:
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