I have clear memories as a 9 year old kid keenly anticipating arrival at the 5-and-Dime store my favorite publication, Petersen's Hot Rod Magazine. It was one of those colorful gleaming slicks with photos of cars sparkling with chrome and posing bikini-clad ladies wear high heels (why high heels? Made no sense to a 9 year old).
I'd fork over a handful of coins and race home to my room to marvel at the latest 1960's muscle cars and custom built Model T's. Chrome glinted on almost every page. Candy-apple reds, metalflake purples and blues, pin striping sensually outlining the curve of a fender. Chopper-style motorcycles were strategically interspersed, like babies breath flowers in a bridal bouquet.
Fast forward to high school auto shop. My pals and I got our hands greasy building performance cars. We had fun drag racing at night while evading the long arm (and slow cars) of the local constabulary. I thought I would become a professional car mechanic upon graduation. To test my hypothesis, I joined the military as a "mechanic" working on McDonnel-Douglas F-4 Phantoms. That four year stint convincingly dissuaded me from the hard labor and physical injury that are part and parcel of a mechanic's life.
My love for cars and motorcycles has never abated. I indulge by attending local car shows and photographing the cars and bikes. Each machine was mass produced in a bygone era and was lovingly enhanced by its owner, who show off proudly as if competing in the Westminster Dog Show Final Round.
Those hot rods are rolling works of art.
Love the way you captured the colors and shine (and those great old hood ornaments) and you told a great backstory as well.