....And the story of the Diary of Vilma Gals' NEW Oldsmobile Super 88! With BONUS Charles Phoenix VIDEO-ETTE JOYRIDE! Featuring footage of the mid-century Googie kitschy-ness of El Monte's Driftwood Dairy!
Six years ago, after my mother Vilma passed away, I was pondering what to do with her neglected 1958 Oldsmobile 88. Over the past few years, I was seriously looking into finally just getting it renovated. Though it isn’t in the best condition, it still has some serious sentimental value to our family. Even today, just opening up the creaky doors and inhaling its special brand of old car smell evokes the cherished remnants of childhood memories.
Six years ago, after my mother Vilma passed away, I was pondering what to do with her neglected 1958 Oldsmobile 88. Over the past few years, I was seriously looking into finally just getting it renovated. Though it isn’t in the best condition, it still has some serious sentimental value to our family. Even today, just opening up the creaky doors and inhaling its special brand of old car smell evokes the cherished remnants of childhood memories.
This was the car my parents bought right before they got married. On their Wedding Day, it would whisk bride and groom away on their Honeymoon: a road trip across the scenic Pacific Coast from Malibu, up past Santa Barbara to the Lompoc Flower Fields, then on to Vandenberg Air Force Base where my father was stationed.
And what a ride they had! An all new for 1958 Oldsmobile 88, with a pearlescent rose-colored hue, just dripping in shiny new chrome from end to end. My father Richard was decked out in his crisp Air Force uniform next to his radiant bride. Vilma chose a simple, yet elegant fitted white suit for her wedding ensemble, with a simple white floral & pearl adorned hat. They were never extravagant in their ways, and the wedding reflected their style.
And what a ride they had! An all new for 1958 Oldsmobile 88, with a pearlescent rose-colored hue, just dripping in shiny new chrome from end to end. My father Richard was decked out in his crisp Air Force uniform next to his radiant bride. Vilma chose a simple, yet elegant fitted white suit for her wedding ensemble, with a simple white floral & pearl adorned hat. They were never extravagant in their ways, and the wedding reflected their style.
Eventually by the 1970’s, all five kiddos were born (including me, the youngest). My father, always a practical thinker, thought at some point that the giant hulk of a 4-door Oldsmobile sedan was now just too small for his growing brood. So, alongside the Oldsmobile, another family “station wagon” was born: a 1962 white Cadillac Limousine. Yes, you heard right. A LIMO!!!!
Ohhhh it was glorious! Much looooonger than the Olds, it was a pure white ship of a car, with flared red fins oozing down the back. It sported two rows of back seats, including a bonus for us kids: a special interior chauffeur’s window running the span of the driver’s seat…. controlled only by the riders in the back. It sure came in handy when mom & dad were having heated “discussions” in front. Oh what fun it was to have the power to drown them out but good! Trips to the beach were even better in the Limo. Why?? Because my father had one of those old metal chaise lounges, the kind with the back wheels and a thick yellow 1970’s kitschy floral-patterned chaise lounge pad. He strapped that sucker up to the top of the Limo's roof-top car rack, packed up the screaming little kids and whizzed down the 405 freeway until we hit the soothing sands of Long Beach. To fellow drivers encountering the White Beast, it was a trifecta: a blur of confusion... wide-eyed shock... un-controlled snicker. But my dad was quite oblivious to it all, I mean just look at the pride he had in his "station wagon"!!
Now mind you, by the time the late 1970’s & 80’s rolled around, classic cars were just not as "classic" or cool as they are today, especially by the young’uns my age. We had TWO of them, and believe me they had seen some better days. Being dropped off at school in either of the cars was equally humiliating. I would beg my dad to drop me off at the corner, hiding in the back seat for the entire drive there. When he finally stopped in front of the school, I would take a deep breath, slowly open the creaky ton-of-steel door and wait for the dreaded moment one of my friends would catch-a-load-of-me exiting the ultimate UN-cool car. I wished for super-hero abilities, envisioning a cloak of invisibility around me… but somehow that damn imaginary shield never worked. Little fingers would rise and point, accompanied by the sinister lingering sounds of “mean kid” laughter. Oooooh how that hurt!!
But one day when I was older, my father attempted to teach me to drive in the Olds. On the way home from the store, he pulled the Olds over and asked “Wanna drive the rest of the way home?” It was there when I had my first taste of freedom, my flaxen hair blowing in the warm wind at the helm of a boat. Holding firmly onto the over-sized ivory-colored steering wheel I thought…Hey this car is really kinda cool after all!! When we stopped, I looked over expecting to get the gen-u-wine stamp of driving approval, but my father’s face was white with fear! Turns out I had swerved all the way home!
But one day when I was older, my father attempted to teach me to drive in the Olds. On the way home from the store, he pulled the Olds over and asked “Wanna drive the rest of the way home?” It was there when I had my first taste of freedom, my flaxen hair blowing in the warm wind at the helm of a boat. Holding firmly onto the over-sized ivory-colored steering wheel I thought…Hey this car is really kinda cool after all!! When we stopped, I looked over expecting to get the gen-u-wine stamp of driving approval, but my father’s face was white with fear! Turns out I had swerved all the way home!
After he passed away, my mother sold the Cadillac Limo, but she just couldn’t part with the Olds. I was only 21 years old when dad passed, but as I got older (and wiser) I developed a deep passion for vintage baubles, especially anything from the 1940’s & 1950’s. I finally appreciated this now vintage car and all the memories and fun we had in it. Yes, even those horrific drop-offs in front of the school.
At some point, I moved back home to help my mom since she was getting older. It was then when I honestly had the chance to take a good look at the Olds and see what condition it was in. S-l-o-w-l-y the paint had all been blasted away by wind, rain and sun. Now a unique one-of-a-kind patina that only the elements could create stands in its past pearly rose glory days. I took some feeble action to preserve it, washing it up and getting a proper cover for it. It had not been driven in God only knows how many years. It sits in the driveway right next to the lush green front lawn, with the tall palm trees partially shielding it in their shadows. To the rest of the neighborhood it’s a regular piece of the street scene, and has simply become quite the spectacular piece of lawn art!
After mom passed away, there was still no intention on buying a “new” Olds. However, looking at it seriously and taking all the sentimentality out of it, the whole restoration project by this time would have been too costly, too time consuming and still likely wouldn’t get me a reliable car that I would not be in fear of breaking down every time I drove it.
Through the course of curious events, starting with this blog and the sharing of my mother’s rich and fantastic young life through her 1950’s secret diaries… there have been some good opportunities and more amazing people that I’ve gotten to know, who I am forever grateful for having in my life. So, an already restored upgraded model called the “Super 88” came up for sale. The opportunity presented itself, and I pondered it. I walked away from it…. a couple of times in fact while considering buying it. But for some mysterious reason, it wanted to come home with me.
So thanks to the workings of our friend Charles Phoenix, good advice from Matt the owner of Anaheim Rod & Custom, and some contemplative discussions from my pals Richard & Kim from Esotouric's Secret Los Angeles, I decided to bite the bullet.
Now we’re gonna have some fun with it! And that includes going on future joyrides, and making lots o' new memories. Hopefully you are cool with coming along for a ride with my sister Victoria and I from time to time as we revive all those 1950’s Vintage Camera Girl Dreams of days gone by…
Through the course of curious events, starting with this blog and the sharing of my mother’s rich and fantastic young life through her 1950’s secret diaries… there have been some good opportunities and more amazing people that I’ve gotten to know, who I am forever grateful for having in my life. So, an already restored upgraded model called the “Super 88” came up for sale. The opportunity presented itself, and I pondered it. I walked away from it…. a couple of times in fact while considering buying it. But for some mysterious reason, it wanted to come home with me.
So thanks to the workings of our friend Charles Phoenix, good advice from Matt the owner of Anaheim Rod & Custom, and some contemplative discussions from my pals Richard & Kim from Esotouric's Secret Los Angeles, I decided to bite the bullet.
Now we’re gonna have some fun with it! And that includes going on future joyrides, and making lots o' new memories. Hopefully you are cool with coming along for a ride with my sister Victoria and I from time to time as we revive all those 1950’s Vintage Camera Girl Dreams of days gone by…