A couple of weeks ago, I was seriously contemplating the wisdom of my decision to move back to the Midwest in the mid-Aughts from warm, sunny Florida. As much as I love Chicago and often wax poetic about it in my musings here at Curbside Classic, as novel as snow on Halloween had seemed this year, the Arctic blast from two Mondays ago left me feeling downright salty for much of the week. Not only did the snow fall yet again (making many, if not most, of the pretty, autumn leaves drift to the ground almost instantaneously), but it stayed for several days, accompanied by temperatures under the freezing point.
The early darkness that now fully arrives by evening rush hour with the end of daylight savings time a few weeks ago has been enough of an issue for me to deal with. Walking to work with faux-January prematurely blowing merciless gusts of wind and snow in my face weeks before Thanksgiving just made me angry. As the late, great Whitney Houston once sang, it’s not right…but it’s okay.
I spotted our featured ’64 Impala SS on Christmas Day, seven years ago, on the sunny, picturesque island of Sanibel in southwestern Florida. Neither Christmas (which I celebrate, and which I also recognize some don’t) nor the holidays, in general, ever really felt like “the holidays” during my years spent in Florida. I’m sorry, and no offense to our readership in that part of the country, but to this Michigan-born-and-raised guy, but I don’t care how many Christmas lights you’ve strung up onto the areca palms lining your screened-in front porch, or how many inflatable, light-up, polyester snowmen you have in your front lawn.
A super-early blizzard in my neighborhood of Edgewater, Chicago, Illinois. Monday, November 11, 2019. This is not okay.
I’m probably going to be no more festive after seeing the fruits of your decorative labor than if you had handed me a plate of Tofurkey and some sugar- and gluten-free gingerbread cookies. (My poor father was diabetic and always gamely ate a few of the really nasty Christmas cookies he was allowed to, while the rest of us pigged out on my maternal grandmother’s truly delectable baked goods, which were loaded with butter and sugar.)
And so, you see my conundrum. “Oooo… this porridge is too cold! This porridge is too hot!” Woe is me, and cue the violins for me having moved back to the Midwest, to the third-largest (and most awesome) city in the United States which is also notorious for its cold, unforgiving temperatures and strong gusts of wind. This, with me having relocated here from a part of the country where wild lizards and snakes seem to far outnumber the squirrels, and a low of fifty degrees Fahrenheit (ten degrees Celsius) often sends Floridians scrounging around in their attics to find the one winter coat they had saved from “the North” or had purchased for a trip.
That’s when and where (December in Florida) seeing a car like this Impala valiantly saves the day. I’ve mentioned before in previous posts how I’m a fan of the “Peanuts” holiday specials featuring Charlie Brown and his friends, especially “A Charlie Brown Christmas” from 1965. That enduringly charming, animated special made its debut on the CBS television network just one year after our featured car was new. I was really into “oldies” music radio when I first moved to Florida in my late-teens. I suppose this is fitting, with many mid-century buildings still standing, and many, rust-free classic cars (like this Impala) on the roads in this part of the United States.
Perhaps part of what this ’64 Impala had restored to my experience of Christmas on Sanibel Island was the sense of continuity it provided between the holidays I had experienced through some of my formative years, and the then-current reality of sweating in shorts and a t-shirt as loudly squawking seagulls flew overhead. I do recognize that it could have been more surreal if I was doing seasonal work as one of those “Santas-for-hire” that stand next to hot, loud, busy, four-lane U.S. Highway 41 (also known as Cleveland Avenue) in nearby Fort Myers, holding up a sign and trying to entice passing cars to risk making a right (or left) turn into the entrance way of some business without getting hit.
It’s true that while many ’64 Impalas in my home state of Michigan had rusted to smithereens by the time I was of an age that I could recognize them as old Chevrolets, I did see the occasional example at car shows or on the roads in summer months in Flint, which was (once) a very Chevy-centric city thanks to the presence of multiple, major GM factories in and around the area. Coincidentally, the ’64 Impala SS, particularly the V8 “Sport” hardtop variant, was a somewhat popular car that year (for a niche-market variant), with close to 98,000 units sold. Perhaps in my mind as I was taking these pictures, I was thinking to myself that this was Santa’s real daily driver, and that Mrs. Claus was only gassing it up for him for when he had sufficiently napped after having flown all around the world on the one day and night of the year (he really does have only one job) that he has to actually do something.
Santa Claus, if you’re reading this, here’s what I want for Christmas, and it’s not a car like this Impala (though that would be nice). I would just like to keep my extremities intact from frostbite this year, so when you do call back to the North Pole on your cell and speak with the “Elf Team Leader” (or whatever title he or she holds), would you tell whoever is in charge of this disgusting, November chill to do just that? Please, and thank you. Oh, and I’ve been mostly good this year.
Sanibel Island, Florida.
Tuesday, December 25, 2012.
Christmas Day.
I am no great fan of the 64 Chevrolet, but your take on it is fascinating, as always. I had never really looked closely before, it is odd how the front of the 64 Chevy can be both plain and cluttered at the same time.
I will say, though, I have always thought of Santa as more of a Lincoln man. 🙂
I hang that ad in my living room almost every Christmas. 🙂
I love Saint Nicolas and that time of Guitar playing and learning on my E Fender with earphones bridge, Martin’s Head stock and yamHa neck
This is a great ad!
When I think of the ’64 Impala – I associate that today as one of the favorite models for lowriders, being in California.
Great topic and photography Joseph. Many readers who live in regions that experience serious winter weather can fully empathize with you. Through your writings at CC, it is pretty clear you are very down-to-earth and thoughtful person. And you will make the most of this winter. In spite of the harshness, there’s plenty of beauty to this season. And it does make your articles on your springtime CC sightings that much more meaningful and appreciated. 🙂
As a big music fan I know you have your special holiday season favourites that will make the coming winter more tolerable.
Or great songs that remind you of summertime.
Daniel, thank you both for the good words and musical selections!
You should be able to sympathize, Joe…is it just me, or have about 5 of the last 7 winters seemed Arctic in the Great Lakes area? I’m down for a mild winter this year; let’s hope that the first half of November was an anomaly.
Aaron, you said it! Thankfully, it has been mild outside since I wrote this article. This past weekend and today, I was able to be outside without even needing a hat.
Thinking back to the two ’64s I rode in… Both were owned by parents of my friends. Both fathers were professors, one in chemistry, one in engineering. Both were ‘austere’ types who focused on saving money, paying cash for everything, and investing in stocks. Both of the ’64s were Biscaynes with V8 and stick, an unusual combination.
I hadn’t made that correlation before. The car dealers must have hated those guys! No options, no financing.
Sounds like my beloved dad. He brought home a brand new white with red interior Bel Air or Biscayne wagon. This was a step up from the blue rust bucket ’57 Forward look blue plymouth Suburban 6 cylinder torque flight Plaza 4 door wagon. Dad rolled into our driveway exactly 56 years ago, The day Saturday Nov. 23, 1963! It was a fold driving rain in Baltimore and the old funny looking Motorolla black and white was o. Round the clock due to JFK being assinated the day before. Next day we all piled into that new wagon and drove to my cousin’s house a long two miles away. My aunt and uncle bought a brand new 23″ black and white Zenith TV for their bedroom. The grownups were gathered round that Zenith TV when Lee Harvey Oswald was wasted by Jack Ruby. Till my mom lost her memory to dementia every year around JFK being murdered with her irreverant humor. (Roseanne Barr) before there was a Roseanne Barr mentioned. We got to see that asshole Oswald blown to bits on your Aunt Lenora’s 23″ black and white TV. Back to the Chevy wagon, dad mentioned on many occasion he wanted his new car to have factory air but, the Biscayne Or Bel Air wagon came without. It had the V8, power glide and power steering, AM Radio and power tailgate window. Regular windows were cranks.
We were living nearby then, in Catonsville, don’t remember when we moved there, but I think it was the year before. We were still a single car household, my Dad had the 2nd of 2 Rambler wagons (in green)….he had it until we were moving to Burlington, Vt. in June 1965, when he was in an accident with it outside our motel room (just vacated the house and about to drive up to Vt.). I’m sure it was pretty much a stripper with the 199 6 cylinder and automatic…probably an AM radio…might have had a power rear tailgate window, but probably still a wind up. My Dad’s first car was a ’56 Plymouth Plaza, absolute stripper with flat 6 and manual transmission, but that had been traded on the first of many station wagons (’61 Rambler…also green).
Back then we bought most stuff at Sears (like a lot of families)..we had a Silvertone AM/FM tube stereo receiver with Garrard turntable…records like Billy Vaughn and the Kingston trio were bought with it…and a 19 inch “portable” b&w Sears tv that took a long time to warm up. My middle sister hadn’t been born yet and we used her future room as a kind of TV room (didn’t know about family room back then) where we watched the Kennedy tragedy coverage.
No connection to the ’64 Chevy…my Dad bought an Oldsmobile F85 after the Ramber got totaled, but after that we did the Ford wagon up until he bought a ’78 Chevy Caprice wagon (the most plush car my Dad was ever to own…he bought it out of the Shearer Chevy showroom in South Burlington).
My Mom still drives his last car, which turned out to be a Chevrolet Impala LS (pretty much a stripper for these times).
My father was austere as well; bringing home a white ’63 BelAir with straight six and three on the tree; not even a radio (we added one the following year).
I’ve always thought the ’63 Impala was the best looking of that decade, save for the ’65. I loved the silver inletted section around the tail lights; especially on dark-colored models. To me the ’64 seemed a bit squashed at both ends in comparison; an ugly duckling between the two swans of the prior and succeeding years.
Joseph Dennis. I always enjoy your articles. Having spent three days at a seminar in Chicago in January 1996, I have a good idea how a brass monkey must feel.
I don’t have the skills to post a link but my favorite Christmas song is “Merry Christmas from the Family” by Robert Earl Keen. If nothing else it helps you realize that perhaps your own family isn’t quite as dysfunctional as you might think, either that or there are a lot of screwed up people running loose.
The Chevies from 1964 (and ’61 and ’62 and ’63 etc.) were a major part of my high school years. I never owned one but have ridden in numerous examples and they somehow seemed to be screwed together better than their counterparts from Ford and Chrysler. The pictures above clearly demonstrate that the Impala is a huge car, with a huge trunk. Back in the day we never thought that about them at all, they seemed to be normal sized and the various compacts that came on line in the sixties were viewed as rolling penalty boxes. Life was much simpler then, our biggest worry seemed to be scraping together five bucks to fill the gas tank and then waste that gas on a night of aimless cruising, listening to the AM radio all the while.
Just Plain Joe, thanks for the music reference, and also to your point about dysfunctional families, I had a similar conversation just this past weekend, so it was great to read your comment that echoed basically what had been discussed.
And, yes – the relative size of cars does stand out with the passage of time. Here’s my observation: cars of the ’80s seem so tiny compared to those of today.
As a 12 year old, I remember seeing the new ’64 Impala SS when it was displayed on the main office floor of a small Delco plant in Anaheim, Ca., in the fall of 1964. Our next door neighbor managed the plant, so this was a yearly ritual while it lasted.
It was a light creamy yellow with a very light beige interior, and it was beautiful to my young eyes. They also had a Corvette Stingray on the floor, even better.
My brother had a 4 door ’64 Impala hardtop in the early ’70s, red w/a black interior & a 283. I can remember when they were all over the place like Camarys & Accords are today.
Speaking of FL, my niece’s family just got back from spending a week @ Disney World. According to them, it was sunny & in the 70s, while we were cold, rainy & cruddy back here in the Boston area.
Finally, Sanibel Island was the final residence of Jean Shepherd before he died 20 yrs. ago this past October
Nice post. The grass is always greener, except when snow-covered.
Don’t laugh at the Floridians with their coat. Here in Melbourne, Australia, it was 106 two days ago: on Tues, it’ll be 57, and I’ll be finding a coat. The porridge here is never right!
Mmm.. and I was grumpy because yesterday was lovely but cloudy as I set off to do some photography, your chilling experience gives me some perspective. My love for the ’64 started with the yellow Matchbox model I had as a kid.
IIRC, the Matchbox Impala was a taxi cab with a trailer hitch.
There must be a 50 or so Matchbox/Hot Wheels cars in various states of disintegration in my Dad’s backyard. So much fun for less than a buck a piece.
In Perfectville, snow starts just a bit before Christmas Eve and ends right after New Year. Impalas are Chevy’;s best and all of them have 3 round taillights like a proper Impala should.
Then all is right with the world.
A flood of memories. Dad had a ’64 Chevy Impala wagon, sky blue. With 6 kids and one in the oven, he purposely bought the Impala version because it came with full vinyl seating to withstand the rigors of a young family. The only option was an AM radio. He later installed a rear view mirror on the driver’s door.
Made many a trip to Grand Isle and the Mississippi Gulf coast packed to the gills with family and me in the back serving “Chek Colas” from Winn Dixie and home made sandwiches from a 100 lb. metal ice chest.
“I’m sorry, and no offense to our readership in that part of the country, but to this Michigan-born-and-raised guy, but I don’t care how many Christmas lights you’ve strung up onto the areca palms lining your screened-in front porch, or how many inflatable, light-up, polyester snowmen you have in your front lawn.”
Coming from a very long-term Floridian, no offense taken! It’s a matter of a mind-set and the people with whom you celebrate the day/season. Honestly, it doesn’t really matter where you’re located.
And speaking of Impalas, I have a ’68 convertible and this is the perfect time of year to take it out. Late Spring, Summer and early Fall are just too hot. Cheers!
That one’s in my fantasy garage (and I’ve mentioned that many times before on these pages)… a ‘68 Impala convertible in light blue metallic with a white top and white interior…
My Dad had a Grecian Green 2 door ‘68 Impala Custom back in the day, and that was a beautiful car. I’ve always liked the chrome on the ‘68, and those U shaped taillights in the back bumper.
I know most folks here prefer the ‘65 (and sometimes ‘67) of this generation, but for me it’s the ‘66 & ‘68, but I’ll admit a bias as I grew up with those. Dad’s ‘66 was a Firethorn Red two door fastback.
Of course it took them until the ‘70 model to perfect the performance from what I’ve read here.
Well I’m covered on blue (Marina) with a white top but mine has blue interior. I had a black ’66 convertible before it, fantastic lines to it. The two cars are/were similar but have quite a few differences too. I like/liked them about the same but for different reasons.
Rpol35, thank you for weighing in! And you are 100% correct about the holidays being about who you spend it with versus where you’re physically located.
I do remember this time of year in southwest Florida, and how great it was once the high temperature for the day had settled somewhere in the upper seventies.
A nice find of the “sporty” version of what was a very popular car. Some 685,000 Impalas were made in ‘64, and a million were made in ‘65. Camcords would kill for those kind of numbers.
For ‘64 the SS was a dress up package only – the 250 six was standard, though quite rare. Most came with the 283. The 327 was a nice upgrade and the 409 was as rare as the six.
And what was the purpose of those metal covers over half of the headlamps? They were a frequent mod in the ‘50’s and ‘60’s, but I could never figure out why.
Being from Jersey, and spending every Christmas as a kid with my Pap in Central PA…I’m right there with you when it comes to the holidays not being the holidays when it’s warm out. Worst Christmas for me was when I moved to North Carolina for a radio gig and didn’t have enough money to come home to PA to see my Dad & Gram in 2014.
Oh, and Christmas is the perfect time of the year for oldie holiday tunes! Especially Lou Monte & “Dominick The Donkey” 🙂
Oh! The car 🙂 – Chevy Impalas, The Beach Boys, and Coca Cola…things that make me think of the “Endless Summer”
Joseph, i hear you, in the forty something years I’ve been here this has been the worst November. Even I’ve been thinking about why the hell I live here.
But the Bears won today, and it’s actually been quite nice out. And the walk I just took was quite pleasant. Why would I go anywhere else?
Go Bears! I seriously love Chicago, in spite of the freezing temperatures. Just yesterday, I was pinching myself that I got to see the Warhol Exhibit at the Art Institute. This city has it all.