(first posted 12/8/2013) I was walking down the street in Bellingham, Washington with an old friend of mine when I spotted this 1950 Plymouth. This car had rolled out of the factory over 60 years before, but it looked like it was only two or three years old.
We were on our way to our favorite Thai restaurant. It was late afternoon, and after a very eventful day, we were both tired and very, very hungry.
Most people would have just kept on walking; after all, these old Plymouths weren’t exactly exciting cars, even when they were new. But as hungry as I was, I had to take a second look at it. It was in such incredibly good shape!
I stared at the car for a long moment, and something odd started to happen. Everything looked so strange; almost like a cartoon.
But then I blinked, and everything came back to normal. At that point, I noticed a well-maintained Ford Pickup parked behind the Plymouth. Was Paul Niedermeyer visiting Bellingham? We could invite him to come along with us! But then I remembered that Paul’s truck was yellow, and that it was a year or two newer than this green one, which looked like a ’65.
But then the colors shifted again.
I blinked and blinked, but the scene in front of me still had that odd, cartoonish quality to it! In fact, it was getting worse every second!
Then, the color went away completely! Again I blinked repeatedly, but to no avail. How could somebody go completely colorblind in an instant?
I turned to ask my friend Tom if he was seeing the same thing… But he wasn’t there! I looked back at the car, and it was still in black-and-white. Everything was in black-and-white.
The unpleasant odor of cigarette smoke suddenly reached my nostrils. There was a man standing in front of the Plymouth, but it wasn’t my buddy Tom. It was a short, dark-haired man dressed in a dark two-button suit with very narrow lapels. He took a deep drag from his unfiltered Chesterfield, exhaled through his nostrils, and intoned in an oddly-familiar baritone voice, “Submitted for your approval: Mr. Michael Hayes, aged 53. A life-long bachelor with no wife, no kids, no attachments of any kind. A lost and frightened man in search of a carefree, simpler time…”
I started to tell him that I wasn’t lost, and that I hadn’t been frightened at all until my eyes started to play tricks on me! The last thing I needed was some jerk blowing smoke in my face and telling everyone within earshot that I was some kind of a loser!
“Listen, Shorty…”
But then all of a sudden, I was paralyzed. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t talk, and my vision was very blurry. I could still hear, but I was completely helpless and nearly blind. Then, another man began to speak. He talked about the importance of brushing your teeth regularly, and recommended using Crest toothpaste in an over-enunciated manner that struck me as being pretty insincere. When he was finally done, a woman took over and with glib determination, she recommended that I try a Lilt Home Permanent for my hair. The fact that I was a balding, middle-aged man didn’t seem to bother her at all.
At long last, they were done talking, and I could move again. My vision cleared, but I was again confronted with cartoonish surroundings. It was much worse than before; the world was now nothing more than a series of (admittedly well-executed) line drawings.
I heard a hissing sound, and I looked over my shoulder and saw another old car, one that I hadn’t noticed before. It looked like a 1947 or 1948 Ford, painted a regrettable shade of pink. But the sometimes less-than-stellar work of Mr. Earl Scheib wasn’t this car’s biggest problem at the moment. Boy, was that Ford overheating! (Those flathead V8 motors were notorious for overheating, you know.) The driver, an odd-looking young man with a rather prominent cowlick, ran up to me, shouting, “Professeur Tournesol! Professeur Tournesol!”
He then unleashed a torrent of words at me, which sounded vaguely like French, a language that I do not speak. I waited for a pause in the parlez-vous and advised him that my name was Michel En Fait, and I would very much like him to leave me alone, since I had problems of my own which included being forced to listen to old commercials, being ridiculed by Rod Serling and most of all, being trapped inside of a cartoon. That’s enough for anybody in my book.
But my new friend was very persistent. After a while, he took the hint and switched to English:
“Professor Calculus! You must help me!”
“What?” Man, that kid was clueless. “My name is actually…”
My earnest young friend interrupted me, saying “Professor, you really are quite deaf. You really should…’
It was my turn to do some interrupting. I’d already had enough insults from the late Mr. Serling. Besides, I’m only a little hard of hearing in one ear. “I suppose you want to use my car?”
“Yes, Professor! I will drive, since you cannot…”
After advising him that he didn’t need to shout, I let him know that I and only I drive my car.
“Very well, I will ride shotgun! But we must hurry!”
I decided to go along with it. I guess you could say that this kid was good at getting me to suspend disbelief. We ran over to my ’60 Corvair, and just as the kid was getting in, a small dog that I hadn’t noticed before hopped in after him. I normally don’t allow dogs in my car (even when I’m trapped in a cartoon) but I have a soft spot for fox terriers.
I don’t like to brag, but the kid (and the dog) seemed very impressed by my car.
To my new friend’s continuing amazement, I demonstrated that I was no slouch in the driving department. I’ll have to admit that the kid turned out to be a good navigator, once he calmed down a bit. Soon, we were well outside of town, headed over the mountains towards the eastern part of the state. I looked over at him and I realized that I’d seen that odd, earnest face and that prominent cowlick somewhere before. He was a character from some comic books that I read when I was a child!
“Is your name Tintin?”
“But of course, Professor! We have to…”
I let him talk, but I didn’t really listen. There was someone who needed to be rescued and some tragedy that needed to be averted, and for some strange reason, we were being chased by some villain or another.
The villain in question was driving a beautiful but rather ancient Buick.
We were really starting to pull away from the Buick when I got stuck behind a slow-moving old Chrysler. What was he going so slowly for? That car probably had a Hemi under the hood! But after I finally overtook the Chrysler (just in the nick of time), it was smooth sailing and we left that Buick far behind.
But then, from out of nowhere, I saw a black Traction Avant in my rear view mirror. The driver and the passenger looked very familiar; they were my old friends Officers Thomson and Thompson, cleverly disguised as each other. It didn’t take me long to get away from those bumbling “undercover” agents, but I really had to wonder why they were sticking their noses into our business. Why didn’t they just leave us alone? Those two fools didn’t stand a chance trying to catch me! After all, I was driving my new Corvair; it was downright futuristic compared to any other car on the road, including that old Citroen! None of it made any sense.
I looked over at that bright-eyed kid and I said as gently as I could, “Listen Tintin, it’s been fun, but I’ve really got to get back to what I was doing. We both know that none of this is real. I don’t own a Corvair; that’s the car my parents drove back when I was a child. I haven’t seen that car in almost fifty years!”
He looked out the window for a long, thoughtful moment and then he said, “So I’m just an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese?”
Actually, he was an excuse to try out some of the features of the new photo-editing software that I purchased while shopping for Christmas presents, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
And then, of course, I came to my senses. I wasn’t even behind the wheel of my car; I was sitting on the sidewalk, and my buddy Tom and a bunch of people I didn’t even know were clucking over me. One of them had her hand on my forehead, like a worried mother testing for a fever. Apparently, I had fainted. I got up to my feet and thanked them all very much. Then, I went back to my regularly-scheduled life. After all, I was pretty darn hungry.
If you’re a fan of Tintin or you’d like to learn more about him, I recommend Paul’s article on the cars of Tintin:
https://www.curbsideclassic.com/blog/the-cars-of-tintin-can-you-identify-them-all/
All Tintin images in my little adventure are taken from Francois De Dardel’s wonderful Cars of Tintin website:
Tres bien, Professor; I mean Michael. An excellent slide down the rabbit hole and into the wonderful world of Tintin. I’m glad you made it back safely!
Danke schoen, Herr Niedermeyer! It was a lot of funny putting that little story together.
Cars if Tin Tin are available to buy at Peter Jacksons Weta Workshops store in Wellington if anyone is keen. Great place to visit. There are one or two shots of some of them on the cohort.
Great piece of work! I just got my big exposure to Tintin Friday night watching Spielberg’s movie. Very timely (for me) and well done!
Hey, thanks! Believe it or not, I haven’t seen the movie yet. But I just checked, and sure enough it’s available on Netflix.
My favorite in the late seventies-early eighties. “De Brokkenmakers” from Belgium
(“Les Casseurs” in French). Lots of very detailed US trucks and cars from that era.
Another one.
“Les Casseurs” was also one of my favorites, Christian Denayer is very talented to draw cars in this comic book series as well as drawing cars and trucks in another comic book series Wayne Shelton. I could also mention other Franco-Belgian comics like Ric Hochet, Gil Jourdan, Gaston Lagaffe, Clifton…
And speaking of Gaston Lagaffe, here a French clip showing a ingenious way to park his car. http://youtu.be/-gEMKHbS6_8?t=50s
Yes, that’s very ingenious. Gaston has a good idea there. I don’t speak French, but I get the impression that the gendarme doesn’t agree….
The only thing a 50 Plymouth did for me was to stoke fantasies of being Fangio.
That is a cool picture!
“That is a cool picture!”
Thanks. Given the size I was, it was probably taken in late 54/early 55. I know it was my Aunt’s black 50 Plymouth because her car was the only one in the family that had a windshield visor.
My first exposure to both the Lancia Aurelia B20 and Jag MkX was courtesy of Herge.
Ahhh… Wonderful memories of mom & dad’s 1950 Plymouth, which has made me a life-long Plymouth fan.
I’ve told the story a time or two, so I won’t repeat myself, but I wish I could find my photos of our beloved 1990 Plymouth Acclaim, for if you look at one at a side profile, you can see very clearly that the Acclaim in design is a modern version of the 1950 model, which is perhaps one BIG reason we bought one.
Those old cars were certainly designed with carrying people in mind – both in the front seats and in the back. Comparing the 1950 to our 1990, the Acclaim was also designed with carrying people in mind as well, and that was another big reason I bought one.
Dad’s 1950 served our family for 10 years until rust had its way, and our 1990 Acclaim served us well for 10½ years, until it was best to let it go.
Sorry, but as to the rest of the article? I didn’t read it and I don’t care! The 1950 Plymouth grabbed my heart and it stopped and I do not apologize!
Hah! Glad you like the pictures! Too bad they’re just humble cell phone pics. I wish I’d had more time to take pictures and a better camera to take them with, but I really was hungry and in the company of people who aren’t into old cars when I came across that Plymouth. Hopefully, I’ll see it the next time I go to Bellingham.
Yessir, when things go cartoonish, then to black and white, it’s bad. But when the color comes back, things get really weird. An excellent story! And I really like that Plymouth.
Hey, thanks. I’m still kind of angry at that jerk Rod Serling, but overall, it was a good day. Tintin was a lot of fun to hang out with, even if he does take himself a bit too seriously.
One of the WPC guys back in the day had that same car except that it was really shiny maroon, one of the best-looking examples of that humpy-looking K. T. Keller-inspired body style I’ve seen.
It reminds me of my college days too – one guy had a dark green 49 sedan with a split manifold and dual pipes, another a light blue 52 2-door sedan with overdrive, which was a good option to have on that car in Iowa, and a third had a magnificent red 49 convertible that looked almost like this photo I found online.
I really love the 1949-50 Mopars, because they are so utterly, completely, functional. The 1951-54 models tried to do stylish, but these cars just could not pull stylish off. The earlier ones didn’t try for style, and as a result, are quite handsome in their own unique way.
I want what you’re on.
Yeah,me too “quite handsome in their own unique way”…Reallly? More like quite handsome in an Elmer-Fudd kind of way. (shhhh, we are hunting wabbit!) ’49, and ’50 Mopars are the dowdiest vehicles ever made, IMHO. All because the guy in charge at the time wanted cars designed so a man could wear his hat while driving.
Well now a few years later it is possible to buy it legally in WA and in Bellingham the stores are getting to be more common than coffee shops/stands.
I’m a week late getting here Mike, but as a great Tintin and car fan, I loved the story, thank you! 🙂
Love these K.T. Keller cars ! .
Wish you’d found a Business Coupe, great story .
-Nate
Thanks, Nate.
These cars were stodgy when new but as mentioned they had great engineering and drove and rode like little else on the road .
I know I knock their lack of high speed longevity but never think I don’t like and respect these fine Automobiles .
I wish I could find someone here in La La Land who’d allow me to fill the tank, air up the tires and take them out to lunch…….
-Nate
Cher Michel, Quelle imagination! Thanks for providing this esoteric report. We live in our minds and you provided lie to mine. Tin-Tin and the stories related to him as well as the 1950 Plymouth are from the simpler times. Of note, the 1949 to 1952 Dodge four-door sedans had even more room in the rear passenger area than the Plymouths. Unfortunately, it would be a number of years before the 1932-engineered slug of a six-cylinder engine would be replaced. Not that the 225 Slant Six was much better, but the V8 power for the 1953 Dodge and later for the 1955 Plymouth was a big step up. Again, MERCI BEAUCOUPS. You are an excellent raconteur.
Thanks very much, Thomas!
My family had a 50 and a 49 Plymouth when I was growing up. The 50 was a pale blue (oxidized) business coupe, bought when I was in elementary school. It was almost a special treat to get to “hide” behind the 1 bench seat instead of ride in front on it. The 49 was a “regular” 2 door sedan bought when I was older and in middle school.
I developed an appreciation for Chrysler products because of those 2 Plymouths. I would compare them to competing brands/models of cars owned by friends and relatives whenever I could. And unless the comparison turned to the engine compartment, Plymouths…and by extension all Chrysler products came across (to me, anyway) as the better ENGINEERED car or truck. For some reason, everyone I knew that had a Mopar product had one with a 6 cylinder engine.
While there have been a few post-emissions control Mopars that I have admired, I still look admiringly at Valiants and Barracudas in good condition. (You can keep your “trailer queens”, make mine a DD grade car.)
PreCC effect strikes again and I’m happy to report this car is still sailing the streets of B’ham as I saw it in a store parking lot this past week. I can’t imagine that it was a different one that I saw.
When this column first ran in 2013, I posed this pic of myself in a 50 Plymouth.
Last spring, I saw a black 50 Plymouth at a show at the Packard Proving Grounds and the owner was agreeable to helping recreate that pic from the dawn of time.
That is perfect!
BIG smile on a happy man ! .
-Nate
This is when CC really needs a like button. ?
Missed this one the first time, great read. In the highest astral plane and all that.
Steve’s then and now ’50 Plymouth pic is awesome!
I think I missed this posting the first time around, but even after re-reading it and the older comments twice, I don’t see an explicit connection noted between this car and the similar Plymouth in “Destination Moon”. Did I miss something, or was that left as an Easter egg for a true Tintinologist to reveal? Unfortunately I can’t find a picture of that car on the Internet, and it would take too long to explain to my wife why I’m taking a picture of a page in a Tintin book (I have them all, most from my childhood, a few added when my kids were young to complete the collection).
Interesting that you should mention that. I think the car in Destination Moon is a 1949 Dodge. I thought about using it in the story, but it didn’t look enough like the Plymouth, so I gave up on the idea.
Dodge, Plymouth, even Plodge … close enough ? But I’m surprised no one mentioned it over the past 4 years!
My father had a ’48 Plymouth up until 1968, when I was 9 y.o.
My mother named it “High Boy” because it stood above the newer, longer, lower, wider cars of the late ’60s.
My older brothers would duck their heads down to keep their friends from seeing them in such an un-cool car.
Over the years it got an Earl Scheib paint job and a new motor from Sears & Roebuck.
At one point it had a hole in the floor and I thought it was cool to see the road go by.
When it got dangerously rotted Daddy gave it to a farmer friend in Virginia who put it on stands and attached a saw blade to a rear hub.