The other day in the local parking lot that keeps on giving I stumbled upon this interestingly patinated 1970 El Camino. My initial thought that was wow, it’s a year younger than me but still coming to the market to which this lot belongs. Later I realized that since my own official build date is October of 1969, if I were a Chevy El Camino I’d be a 1970 model as well. There’s every chance that this little (mostly) red devil is the exact same age as me. Hmm. What other things might we have in common?
For starters that’s a little 350 badge on the fender there, which is 5.7 liters in the German vernacular to which I was born. I don’t have a badge on my side, just a mole or two, and my ticker (hopefully) isn’t that large, but if this one’s is as original as mine then it still starts every morning, but perhaps not with the same gusto it once had. But with a little bit of warmup time in my case primed with a shot of caffeine (goose of the throttle?) it then runs pretty smoothly for the rest of the day. I hope to not have to run poorly for as long as a Chevy engine can run that way, but I suppose running at all would still be far better than the alternative.
Looking at the externalities, up top neither of us is wearing our full and complete original covering. Like the Elky’s roof paint, my top covering has thinned to an appreciable degree as well, mainly in the back for me, and if left uncovered also develops a bit of a burn like this one has. On the plus side I’ve retained my original pigmentation all over otherwise and while it occasionally peels a bit it’s pretty much the same shade and gloss level as it ever was. I’ve also never had to repair or replace my nose although it is a bit larger than many others I see, just like this one here.
The grille, well, I’ve had work done on mine as a teen although it’s still not all straight but at least it’s there. It’d cost far less to make this one perfect in that regard than it did my parents for mine. As the El Camino’s is though does probably make it easier to suck in the bugs if that’s one’s thing. The eyes are still mostly okay, although this one has wisely adopted some now fashionable dark frames (wait, it’s black on one side and red on the other, a fashion faux pas!) and perhaps new lenses, something I should think about as well, it’s getting a bit harder to see at night. Not sure if I want E-codes like Hugo Boss or Yves Saint Laurent or if the domestic choices will be good enough. They won’t be two-toned though for sure.
I’ve got a couple of scars, most notably the one on my knee at about the height of this one back here, mine came via a motorcycle accident. There are a couple of others scattered about as well, although I don’t have the open sore that this has behind its wheel (knee?). There’s also no dent in my rear end. Or at least I don’t think there is. Come to think of it, there’s something far worse but perfectly natural, just like opinions everyone has one. I guess here the back end can be opened up too via a top and bottom piece. This one looks to be lockable too!
Looking through the handy window shows that the Elky is carrying a little more weight than it rolled off the line with. Same here and it gets more difficult every year not to add a little more. Mine shows a little more though while the Chevy still casts the same shadow it always did. Hmm, advantage El Camino!
I do lie on my right side when sleeping, if on a rough surface perhaps it’d look like that when I woke up too but mine just springs back into shape, for the most part at least. Although the right knee hasn’t worked completely right since that sledding incident back in ’99, that could be when this took a hit as well. I didn’t get a great look at the tires although surely they aren’t original like mine, which probably explains why they hurt after a long (or even not so long) voyage on them.
Even with the damage over the years, all of the original brightwork and protrusions and whatnot are still in place, so we have that in common too. I see a few little metal accent pieces on the sides here, I too got an earring when I was eighteen and in college. But only on the left. It hurt too. But I know it looked better than it does on the Chevy and I’m sure it helped me get girls looking at me. Or maybe the girls looked at me they way they’d probably look at this car if it slowly rolled by…but let’s not dwell, there’s more.
It looks like this one has a pacemaker or something mounted to the dash, thankfully I don’t have need for one of those but being able to monitor things in real time might be of use, especially after working hard. Colorwise my insides are probably pretty similar to this (besides the denim), and there’s probably a few small bits of plastic and styrofoam that got in there over the years along with that gum I swallowed when I was nine.
I can still steer myself in any direction I want to go no matter where others would prefer I go, and there are definitely a few cracks and wrinkles appearing all over these days too. At least everything still seems pretty firmly attached and functions as designed, if perhaps with a few more creaks and a rattle or two at times.
This one carries historic plates and my wife signed me up for an AARP card last year as a lark, although we found out we need to renew it every year while the plates are good for five at a time. They really ought to offer a five years for four deal or something at the AARP, I’ll bet most people would play those odds, I wonder who would ultimately win that in the long run.
What strikes me most though is how just as with the El Camino I always thought of myself as large and in charge, but now the small young’uns are surprisingly big themselves when they walk alongside and are still getting bigger every day. One day soon I’ll be as small as this El Camino looks in between these two young kids at its sides, and that’s alright with me, it’s progress and a marvel to look at, explore, and enjoy. Hopefully I’ll be coming to this parking lot for many years to come and hopefully my new reflection will as well so we can assess each other going forward.
Well, humans do tend to grow a bit bigger with each successive generation, as well as shrink with age, so perhaps that can explain the last picture???
The comparisons here are great and you’ve now got me making similar mental comparisons. Perhaps the biggest challenge I have is in my wheel bearings, uh knees and fingers. They need new grease packed in them.
Otherwise I’m good with my assortment of dents and scrapes. It’s no fun being kept in the garage.
What a great way to look at this Elky. I once owned a 1959 Plymouth that was delivered to its original owners the same day I was delivered to mine. The Plymouth said so on a card in the glovebox, my card is in a file folder somewhere downstairs. Come to think of it, we both came from Michigan.
That Elky looks like it may have been exerting itself in the sun, given that red complexion. That happens to me too. My Plymouth was pale white like I am most of the year, though.
I think both of us are old enough that we avoided the era of copious body graphics that grace both cars and humans that came along later. You could probably get one on the aftermarket, though. Might I suggest a simple “6.1”? 🙂
Too common. Maybe 6:1:32 instead… 🙂
This truck appears to have been the inspiration for the one in My Name is Earl.
Okay, but if you were built in Germany and imported to the USA, you’d be an Opel, not an El Camino.
Imaginative anthropomorphism! Excellent!
The El Kleinamino.
Many manufactured components are stamped or cast with a build date.
When around discarded or scrap components I try to keep a lookout for “good” dates; then I’ll sometimes cut or break that part off.
I’ve hit on a few good matches, some relevant to give to family and friends.
I’m a skinny old guy with a build date in late ’66. Long nose. Mustang, maybe? Indian bronze or copper in color. A bit scruffy and faded (completely gray hair.)
This was terrific. Great metaphors throughout.
Thanks! I tried to channel my inner Joseph Dennis in talking about the car without just talking about the car!
Thanks for a great read! This car has personality in spades. Not sure about that replacement hood, it looks decidedly pedestrian unfriendly.
Great read! For those of us born in the 1970s (or thereabouts), connecting ourselves with an equivalent-aged car isn’t always the most pleasant task. I shudder to think what 1973-model vehicle best represents me right now.
Using that same analogy I would have been part of the new models of one of the best new car years ever! 1955. Built at the tail end of 1954, November. By virtue of my humble birth, I’d have to be a Chevrolet, though that year Chevy established itself as the equal to any marque. Later in my childhood I would have had the aspiration to become a Cadillac. That ambition carried me well into my young adulthood.
Okay, enough of that. Cars like this usually belong to a longtime owner who has decided to hold onto what he has, and to keep it running well enough for his purposes. The clutter inside, and patina of actual use indicate to me that the owner is probably a senior, someone around my own age if not older. The extra gauges under the dash as well as tach indicate that someone in the past was either going in the hot rod direction or more likely, the current owner just wanted more info that could be provided by an idiot light. The camper shell gives it the perfect indication of an old man’s truck, one reason I refuse to put one on my F150!
Thats the end of the Chevy era I like most but they used to be big cars here, what went wrong?