Time, location and exposure are critical to this decision . . . (AND your time in reading all of this drawn out treatise!)
As a the oldest kid growing up in a family of boys in Nebraska & Iowa during the 1970s, I was always aware of the Indy 500 because the Des Moines Register Sunday edition would always publish a color grid guide in the Sports section. Racing coverage on TV was often tape delayed on weekend programs like ABC's Wide World of Sports. I keenly remember watching the multi-hued, identically prepped Camaros of the International Race of Champions during the latter part of the 1970s.
It must have been when I was old enough to move from a crib to my own bed that my grandma made me a bedspread from fabric printed with track names like Monaco, Monza and Sebring and featuring the cigar-shaped open wheelers of the 1960s. (I still have it!) Classic Hot Wheels Redlines came out in 1968--the year I was born (I remember a couple of open road racing cars) and I also had a neat if cheap plastic Can Am push car.
I later discovered Matchbox cars and had a yellow SuperKings race hauler with a winged open wheel racer (I bought another out of nostalgia). I later got a futuristic auto hauler with a load of five cars that included a yellow M-B SEL roadster, orange BMW coupe, white and light blue Pantera, a red and white Dodge Challenger, and a bright blue Pontiax Firebird. I wore through the knees of several pairs of pyjamas pushing those cars around the house, reenacting countless Smokey and the Bandit scenarios. Luckily, grandma also made PJs!
Then in the early 1980s, my grandma (the same one that made my quilt) told me that our cousin Joe Ruttman might be racing on TV--we would fitfully scan for him in NASCAR Busch Grand National and Winston Cup competition. Later our family got cable television and ESPN covered a variety of motorsports. The Nashville Network broadcast everything from NHRA drag races to swamp buggie races produced by Diamond P Sports with legendary broadcaster Steve Evans and others.
My mom was the youngest of six, so most my cousins were much older than me. Growing up, some of them had Thunderjet slot car tracks and built some amazing short track models. When they were old enough, they bracket raced a couple of Novas while others had '55-57 Chevy street rods and a few even flipped musclecars like 427 CID 425hp Biscaynes for profit.
Musclecars were few and far between in Des Moines. I do remember a gaudy yellow and red back-halved '68 Charger that was parked on the curb in front of our house for several days. I wanted my dad to take it to his warehouse and hide it for me because it appeared it had been abandoned.
Smokey and the Bandit instilled in me a great passion for 2nd generation General Motors F-bodies, the 1970.5-1981 Camaro and Firebird. Our lady neighbor had a pristine dark blue base '75 Camaro, and my mom even test drove a silver 1976 Trans Am that belonged to one of my dad's salesmen.
Everything changed when one of my friends bought a Palladium Silver 1970 Pontiac GTO Judge Ram Air III 3-speed manual from Duffy's in Cedar Rapids. A former drag car with only 1500 miles on it, the owner allegedly swapped in a Ram Air IV for competition. (My friend immediately disassembled it for restoration but never told me when he sold it in pieces for pennies!)
The Judge had what looked like a hand brushed a coat of blue Dutch Boy paint, but the die was cast: I became a GTO fanatic (my first car was a 1971 400, auto, a/c painted Porsche Guards Red. As if the "arrest me red" hue wasn't enough, the seller had thoughtfully equipped it with glass pack mufflers!) and, eventually, a lover of all American musclecars. Another friend had a Mayfair Maize 1968 Firebird 350 when some of our friends and classmates were getting new 1985 Mustang GTs (the last carbureted 5.0s), Trans Ams, and Honda Preludes and Toyota Celicas.
Moving to the Kansas City area in 1984 expanded my automotive horizons. I joined the Heart of America Pontiac Club and, as newsletter editor, printed the monthly publication "Poncho Tracks" on a dot matrix printer. I even created a new masthead using a combination of our IBM PC Jr. (what a piece of over hyped junk that was!) and a 1/25-scale Goodyear Eagle GT Gatorback tire rolled in some ink ( you had to be there but it looked decent at the time.)
My uncle Paul was a Chevy enthusiast with an all original 1956 Chevy DelRay four door sedan, a 17k mile survivor '63 Impala 327/powerglide combo, and a '72 Malibu 4-door he bought new for his family, and several resto projects. Every April he drove down to KC from Omaha to take my brothers and me to the Vintage Chevrolet Club of America swap meet which was held in the Hallmark Cards employee parking garage. Our ritual was an early all you can eat breakfast at Shoney's (mmm, bacon and biscuits 'n gravy) before heading into the dank and dark parking structure on a quest for automotive treasure. It was always damp and cold, but I always returned home with 15-20 moldy-smelling '60s vintage Hot Rod, Car Craft, Super Stock, Popular Hot Rodding, and Hi-Performance Cars magazines.
I bought a set of four 15-in. x 7-in. Pontiac Rally II five-spoke rims for my GTO for $60 and four nice used trim rings for $20. (I still have a mismatched set of the original 14-in. rims from my car and two of the 15-inchers that were possibly from a full-size Poncho, Grand Prix or Firebird. I wish I had the car to go with them.) I can still feel the cold metal biting into my hands as a carried the heavy--but best looking stamped steel rims ever--down the parking ramp.
I also wish I had $4000 then to spend on a dazzling 1970 Plymouth Roadrunner 383 convertible on offer one year at the VCCA meet. Painted silver, it looked "right" and I remember being fascinated by the the vinyl-like texture of the convertible top. Later I saw what had to be the same car (there were approx. 900 ragtops built in '70) looking like every panel had been intentionally dented. I still wonder what color it was originally, as silver was not offered that year.
Kansas City International Raceway was a 1/4-mile dragstrip only a few miles from my house. I saw "Big Daddy" Don Garlits run 270+mph in his Swamp Rat XXX top fueler and was instantly hooked on the electricity and ground-shaking power of nitro-methane. I witnessed the first 4-second and 300mph funny car passes at nearby Heartland Park Topeka and was later a freelance motorsports photojournalist beginning in just after high school. The Heartland Park track surface had so much grip in those early years that it became almost routine to see records fall.
About that time NASCAR was really growing and a friend and I decided we wanted to see a Winston Cup race in person. I picked Talledega--the biggest and fastest superspeedway on the circuit. On the way there, we stopped to take a photo of the exterior of Elvis Aaron Pressley's childhood home in Tupelo, MS, and detoured through Ft. Payne, AL--the home of country music super group Alabama--to tour their museum. We also stopped at every Exxon station we saw to get some of the early Racing Champions 1/64-scale diecast cars which were promotional itens for the movie Days of Thunder.
To be continued . . .
(Trust me--I am getting to a point!)