The El Camino. The shameful lust object of my early fifties is an unattainable bitch goddess. I have seen many of the surviving specimen, and in aggregate they are decaying and literally withering unto dust. I drove a 1979 GMC Caballero (the GMC clone of the el Camino) today and while it was most immpressive mechanically, all the 1970's plastic ( of which there is much) was dissolving into a fine cornmeal and the styrofoam in a fine powder: I was quite explicitly breathing the car as I drove it. It was also beige, a color so non committal as to surrender only thoughts of viral infection and condominium bathroom wall colors. It was sorrowful. The glacier has moved and these vehicles have been left behind. I shall not.
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