Some of us are born with a natural disposition to be, let’s say, very expressive. I recently came across photos of myself taken in the late ’70s in my grandparents’ living room. I was about four years old and playing with a second cousin. It’s a funny thing to study one’s own body language in old photographs. I’m sure I had seen these pictures a couple of times before, shortly after having received them in the mail about twenty years ago. Being unfamiliar with these images of myself captured in my most unguarded, unfiltered, and purest essence of young childhood was insightful in that I could again recognize, through my adult eyes, what kind of a person I was at that stage of my life. It was almost as if I was looking at someone else’s kid.
In myself, I saw expansive movements, self-possession, confidence, humor, and joy. In these four or five images of Sarah (my mother’s cousin’s daughter) and me playing on the living room carpet and in my grandpa’s office (pictured above), I saw two kids who were vastly different in physical appearance – she was a pretty, bubbly, fair-skinned blonde, and I was a cinnamon-hued boy with a closely cropped sphere of curly, black hair – having an absolute blast as if no one else was around.
I looked at myself in these pictures and took a quick inventory of the course of the past forty-five years and some of the detours I had taken, both voluntary and involuntary. What had happened to that gregarious, goofy, friendly youngster, and what had taken him literally decades to get back there again in adulthood? As a young kid, I had often been told by my family of origin that I was too loud, too boisterous, too expressive, too effeminate. It was probably not that many years after the above picture had been taken that I had learned to compartmentalize myself, having bought into the idea that only parts of me were presentable to the world, and that others needed to be toned down or kept completely hidden.
Many of us who grew up in narcissistic families are used to being told we were “too much” and to reel it in, so to speak, and I’ve long since learned that I was not alone in this experience. Another’s joy often seems to bring out the worst in narcissists or deeply unhappy individuals to where we learn to self-sabotage or start to experience fear when we begin to feel great about ourselves. That’s when the self-censoring starts, and it can be a long, slow, painful descent into losing oneself in wasting vast amounts of energy in trying to manage the feelings and anticipated reactions of others.
On the flip-side of that coin, I remember when my now-college-aged niece was a little girl about the same age as I was in the above picture, and how she had a natural proclivity to put a little extra spice into her speech and mannerisms. I remember one particular instance when a bunch of us were hanging out in my brother’s backyard around the fire pit. My niece said something that sounded like it could have come out of the mouth of Cher or Diana Ross, and almost instinctively, my brother and I turned to each other simultaneously and said, “That was so extra.”
My niece looked at us quizzically (she still makes that exact same expression as a young adult), and in that moment I realized that this new context of the word “extra” had probably just been introduced into her young lexicon. One key difference between her and me is that her extra-ness had been allowed and maybe even encouraged to bloom. I love who she is today – a thoughtful, funny, caring, (sometimes) dramatic, outside-the-box thinker and beautiful soul with a diverse friend group and also a heavy dose of realistic and objective thinking.
At first glance, I had thought our featured TownAce was a Previa, which also would have been a find because one doesn’t see those anymore, either. You know how it is, when you think you see something perhaps out of your peripheral vision, where just a quick glance at the object confirms that it’s not at all what you had first thought. I’ve seen only a handful of JDM (Japanese Domestic Market) vehicles in and around Chicago over the course of the past five years or so (at least that I’m aware), and it’s always a special thing to behold something that’s here by choice and extra effort.
This generation of TownAce was produced between 1992 and ’96, and was a rebodied version of the same R20/R30 platform vehicle that was sold in the U.S. between 1984 and ’89 as the Toyota Van for cargo, or Toyota Wagon for passengers. A quick internet search shows that there are other vans like this one currently for sale or being used and driven in the States. I can’t narrow down the model year of this example, as a license plate search produced no information, but there are a few noteworthy commonalities to be mentioned.
Engine options included a 2.0 liter gasoline-powered four-cylinder unit with 97 horsepower, or a 2.2 liter turbodiesel four with 91 horses. Most examples I saw for sale had the turbodiesel. Two transmissions were available – a five-speed manual and a four-speed automatic, the latter of which is the case here, as evidenced in the below picture. Curb weight was around 3,300 pounds, and it seems like either engine would be barely adequate for U.S. traffic conditions, but I’m sure it’s a different story in other parts of the world. If we could handle the VW Bus, this machine couldn’t be so bad. I still wouldn’t want to take it on the Dan Ryan Expressway.
The Super Extra trim level added such curious niceties as factory-installed curtains that wrapped around the rear of the interior and a Cool / Hot Box and ice maker located in the center console up front. There was also an optional six-window skylight roof, which would make for a ’90s interpretation of an Olds Vista Cruiser from the ’60s. The center row of this three-row machine could also be turned one-hundred eighty degrees to face backwards! You could have a whole conversation back there with fellow passengers while making actual eye contact without craning your neck around, echoing an era before cell phones kept everyone entertained. I like that similar to the Pontiac Aztek I had written about a little while back, this thing seems made for camping out. Oh, and yes, there were both front-drive and AWD versions of it.
For me, though, it all comes back to the superlatives affixed to the rear tailgate of this beauty. I had thought about texting pictures of it to my niece, but I decided against it as I didn’t want that to come across as some sort of indictment or invalidation of her beautiful extra-ness. I guess I’m still sort of extra in certain ways (can you tell?), but I also love how I’ve mellowed in middle age. Just like this TownAce could be confused with a Previa by the casual onlooker, my current, relatively tame, tattoo-free appearance would be no indicator of my eclectic leanings, some of what I’ve experienced, and / or the paths my life has taken, being both a recovered / recovering scapegoat and a recovering alcoholic. (I hit five years sober this past February.)
For others of you who have been told to “tone it down” at some point, my hope for you (and part of what has worked for me) is to understand and internalize that others’ issues with you usually have nothing to do you and everything to do with them. Find the courage and self-love within yourself to continue to shine your light super-extra brightly, regardless of what you are told. Be the right-hand drive vehicle in a left-hand drive world, because that’s just how you rolled off the assembly line. Your uniqueness is your strength, so lead with your ace and win as much and as often as you can.
Wrigleyville, Chicago, Illinois.
Sunday, July 6, 2025.
Those vans are becoming rare here now but there were thousands of them about the turbo diesel was the one to have, they arent particularly slow certainly nothing like a VW van, they came in RWD or 4×4, the EGR system gets blocked with soot when that happens boost goes away and electrical glitches are all that really goes wrong and they rust, mate of mine had one as family transport for years, he gave it to his daughter it just kept going great van he graduated to a 3.0 TDI Hiace Super custom van lots more power and toys JDM vans are an interesting rabbit hole, another old mate crashed a JDM van it died he is in a wheelchair, head on then end over end different model than a townace but he survived, Toyota have sold lots of their vans here.
Thank you for this firsthand knowledge of these, which I clearly didn’t have! You mentioned driveability not being slow like a VW Bus – I imagine that if these were dangerously slow, there wouldn’t be as many of them brought over here to the U.S. as there would appear to be, based on my internet search.
I’m sorry about your friend’s accident – that sounds horrible. I’m glad he survived.
I had an automatic diesel one of these and it certainly wasn’t fast. It lugged well enough, although it made a lot of noise doing it. The engine being under the passenger seat certainly made it feel very “present” as you drove along.
Loved the practicality, very versatile. 8 seater I think, and you could lay all the seats down completely flat and use as a somewhat lumpy bed. I seem to recall that you could take pretty much all the seats out very easily, adding to the practicality.
It blew something in the cooling system on a long uphill slog coming back fully laden from a camping trip. My mechanic welded it up but advised me to move it on, as this was a sign of things to come. I took it to a car fair and it was snapped up before I even got in the gate, no haggling.
Definitely a vehicle that I regard with fond memory
“ Be the right-hand drive vehicle in a left-hand drive world, because that’s just how you rolled off the assembly line.” This doesn’t really describe me, but maybe something I occasionally wish I were.
We are all kinds, LHD and RHD alike, on this expressway called life.
Joseph, nice job relating a particular car’s design to the concept of expressive, unique people. Kudos for your take on the acidic harm narcissistic relatives unknowingly shower upon those in their physical proximity. 1.5 years ago, I learned that my ex-wife is a narcissist. Together since 1994, I’m still struggling to remove scar tissue.
Thank you, Jack. Recovery is an ongoing process, the way I see it. It always won’t always be like it is right now, and we’re ahead of where we were – that’s the important thing. Just knowing certain things have a name, by itself, helps by letting us know it’s not isolated to just us and whatever we’ve experienced. Learning about narcissism and that it was a thing was like the proverbial scales falling from my eyes. It was never about me. 🤯
I’m just gonna go ahead and say it: I came for the car. But your writing and your story moved me to tears. It is the most encouraging and relatable thing I had read in a long time.
And to me it underlined something I have long felt to be true, at least true for me: The car writing I enjoy the most is that which is only supercially about cars.
Thank you!
The car writing I enjoy the most is that which is only supercially about cars.
Agreed. People are more interesting than cars!
I’ve always encouraged personal stories at CC and we’ve had a lot of them. Some were real standouts.
Thank you very sincerely. I mix it up with what I contribute to CC between the fun and the real, and this was what came to me. It felt good to write this regardless of how it would be received, but reading your comment made me happy.
The Previa incidentally also offered swivel 2nd-row seats that can face rearward – I know, I almost bought one – although it came at the cost of being non-removable, at least without tools. Some VW vans also could do this. Chrysler and Dodge offered “swivel & go” 2nd-row seats in the early 5th-generation mini vans, but it meant losing the popular “stow & go” 2nd-row seats that can fold into a floor compartment so they got dropped. There was even a car that offered a swivel front- or rear-facing front passenger seat, the ’66-67 Imperial, a rare option on that car.
Thank you for this! I never know about the rear-faving seats in the vehicles you mentioned. It also seemed like the Previa was sold here for like five minutes before being replaced with the Sienna (which is still with us).
I think I have seen pictures of the Imperial you mentioned, most likely here at CC.
Growing up in Austria in the 1950s, we were very repressed as kids generally. Rules were hard and fast and punishment came quick (and sometimes hard).
One time we met up with some rather distant relatives from the US who were taking a vacation near Innsbruck. They had two kids, roughly my age and my older brother’s age. They were so incredibly unrepressed, talked so differently with their parents, and were just so…out there? It’s like they were from a different planet. I actually felt a bit sorry for them, as it seemed they were having some kind of emotional crisis every 15 minutes.
Cultural differences are real.
Hey Joe, you double-hooked me today; first with that beautiful Town Ace, and then with the mention of family photos, and what they show. I’m fortunate to be the custodian of my maternal grandparents’ family albums (we’re talking mid-late 1800s here), and though I may not know who everybody is, it’s amazing to look at the clothing, the hairstyles (for my daughter), and (for me) the beard styles as well. Though I can read the handwriting (which is beautiful) I have no idea who Tante This and Onkel That were (Grandpa’s people were East Prussian, modern Poland; Grandma’s from around Dresden).
I totally hear you about compartmentalizing life, toning things down, self-censoring, masking – call it what you will. But problems can occur later in life when you’ve been ‘putting on an act’ for so long that after a while you no longer realize you’re doing it, and eventually things can start to slip, and you lose touch with the ‘real me’. I had masked my behaviour so thoroughly to fit in with those around me that it took until 60 for me to be diagnosed.
Absolutely adore the look of the Town Ace. Egg-like curviness with just enough unexpected detailing to be interesting, without being incongruous. Very much like its ‘big brother’, but if anything better. I’m especially a fan of that tail light treatment.
Got a song for you today, from a Japanese band! Made me think of you the first time I heard it, and today seems a good time to share it.
Peter, I always appreciate your insights – and your musical selections. Thank you for posting this!
You mentioned boxes of family photos, and completely unrelated to this post, I had a conversation with a friend this past weekend about how I have a box full of photos of extended family members which I had received from an aunt some years back. Some of them are labeled, and some of them aren’t. I have no idea who most of these people are. My thought process is that much like I would find vintage photos while shopping, these pictures are like that, except for that I’m related (presumably) to many people in these images. I may have them scanned professionally just to have.
On the other stuff, I’m glad I started the healing process, therapy, etc. when I did, regardless of my current age. I feel like there is so much life left to live, and in a new way. Through a clearer set of eyes and a freer heart and mind.
I wish I could save posts because this is a favorite for me..oh well, I guess there’s always bookmarks!
Fantastic writing. Even at 26 I struggle with expressing myself and worrying about what others will think. I think I’m getting better, but it’s a process. Congrats on 5 years sober, by the way
Lantis, thank you. I feel like awareness is key, and that some people just try to soldier through (to varying degrees of success) without even trying to figure out what might be wrong. I did see a therapist for years (hugely helpful), and in addition to that, there’s a lot of great (free) content on YouTube from mental health care professionals. Of course not all of it is rock solid advice, but a lot of it is. One therapist who has helped me immeasurably is Dr. Jerry Wise, and a lot of his content on becoming more self-focused and not other-focused.
A lot of us from certain backgrounds have grown up learning to constantly be on vigilant alert to keep certain others happy and hold ourselves hostage in the process. It’s never too late to start seeing things differently. Besides my sobriety, taking care of myself in this way is probably in the top-3 or top-5 things I’m most proud of.
We are works in progress!
The Australia of my growing up in the ’70’s, ’80’s, was still very white Anglo-uptight, and we were Catholics (a large clan in this city), and THAT was dominated by an Irish Cardinal who lived to 99, and so the truly repressed Irish version of Catholicism was our lot. Lots of thou shall nots, lots of rules, lots of fearful smells and bells and bobbin’ up and down. Lots of boredom.
I didn’t fit. I didn’t, wouldn’t, play sport, I was an eccentric with big glasses who watched the news avidly at 7 years old, and though I was largely (repressedly) obedient, when pushed to the edges of my being, I was mule-like. It all does damage, this stuff.
But I’m blessed (said the ex-catholic, the terminology sticks). Life evolved, along with the country itself. My parents were not the people they were: still of their time, but now open, honest, less judgmental by the year. I wouldn’t be shocked to see my gentle (but once so-strict), 90 y.o., once very right-wing dad vote Communist at the next election! I suspect mum directs him that way from heaven (which, ahem, I don’t believe in).
These vans were sold here for years as Tarago (a First Australian name). They all did mega mileages, the last of them at the hands of European backpacker doing ther working holiday lap of Australia. I rode in them – the Taragos, not the backpackers – and boy, did they rock and roll about. Worse, one rolled twice directly in front of me years ago, because its crude underpinnings and super-high centre of gravity couldn’t cope with a low speed two-wheels-into-the-verge country lane situation. I’ve been leery of them ever since.
Really first-rate writing here, Mr D.
Thanks, Justy. I like that with renaming this vehicle for your market that Toyota paid some homage to Australia’s native heritage, or at least that’s what it sounds like you were saying. I jumped ship from Lutheran to Presbyterian now decades ago, without saying anything else about that here except for that I’m now where I belong.
Yes, an aboriginal name, used for a town in one State and a reservoir in another, (then a Toyota for all of them). Probably more just marketing back in ’82 or so, I’m afraid: it sounds nice (think “tah-rah-go”). Quite often we’ve found lately that words used as place names that were supposed to mean such-and-such in native language are totally wrong, mainly because of prior unawareness that there were hundreds of languages. Sometimes, it turns out that names adopted by settlers for places or landscape features were in fact plain insulting.
In general, we still have a huge amount to learn about the First Australians, especially about the often brutal past of white interaction.
I love obscure domestic version vehicles, this one is tops .
Congratulations on five years ! this is no small thing .
I agree, you look free in that picture, I wonder how I looked, I was one nail they hammered mercilessly and relentlessly, I life home at age 8 and am still the Motocycle amongst all those cars, that’s fine with me .
Spread this work to all the young folks you meet ! .
My various foster boys tell me no one has ever taught them as I do, once they’re adults they come back and say thank you .
-Nate
Thank you, Nate. We all have a purpose outside of what we do for work – it’s important for each of us to recognize that and to share our gifts and experiences as warranted and appropriate. It must feel wonderful to receive that expressed appreciation from your foster children.
Oh Joseph, what a beautiful, emotive, personal story; so brave of you to share. On the bottom of the globe I’m the LHD in our RHD world. My family were always supportive of my childhood character, but leaving home in the early 1990s brought me into a less accepting world and I quickly learned to hide parts of myself. From being a kid who loved to wear colour, I spent 20 years wearing black. When I turned 40 I’d had enough of hiding my true self, so came out of the closet and met my now-husband. On an early date, he took me clothes shopping, and I rediscovered colour in clothing and in life!
Relating to your find, I did most of my learner-driving in my parents’ Townace Super Extra. It was a 1984 JDM model, 1.8L 5-speed, and quite zippy for what it was. Approaching suburban corners with the sort of fearless gusto which only a 16-year-old has, I quickly discovered it became a 3-wheeler, lifting the inside rear wheel with remarkable ease!
Glad you’ve found yourself Joseph, here’s to navigating the journey of life!
Thank you so much, Scott. It had actually occurred to me when I was writing this hat given CC’s global audience that RHD was / is the norm for a significant part of the readership. I’m sure (or I hope, anyway) that such readers (like you) took the metaphor with a grain of salt. 🙂
Yes, there is nothing like living an authentic life in full color. That’s not to say that I’m not thankful for things like my use of self-discipline and discretionary restraint. To me, that’s just part of living in a diverse world. I know, though, that if I was a parent of a child like myself or my niece that I would just love that kid unconditionally, full-stop. One job, man. One job.