The Lone Star Round Up Hotrod Parade starts today, Friday, April 9 at 3 p.m at Guerro’s on South Congress. Austin, TX.
In 1956, when my dad was 15 years old, my grandfather bought him a 1948 Plymouth. The Plymouth wasn’t a particularly desirable car at the time. But my dad developed a certain fondness for its curved hood, its sunshade, and the autonomy it gave him. That Plymouth was eventually sold, but not forgotten, and in the mid-1980s, my dad bought himself another 1948 Plymouth. That second Plymouth was his pride and joy, certainly at least in part because of his nostalgia for the 1950s and the years he spent driving around Austin in his first ride.
But many of the hotrodders who will turn out today for the Lone Star Round Up Hotrod Parade aren’t baby boomers. They didn’t live through the 1950s. Instead they are of a younger generation, followers of the rockabilly subculture. They–like my father–may be nostalgic for the 50s, but for them it is an imagined time; they deliberately chose to dress, drive and play music in the aesthetic of a decade passed before they were born.
This afternoon on South Congress, girls with powder pale skin, Betty Page bangs, red lips and flowers in their hair will mingle with greaser boys in white t-shirts, cuffed jeans, and chain wallets. But it’s the hotrods of an earlier era–cars driven in from all over the country–that will reign supreme as the 9th Annual Lone Star Rod & Kustom Round Up kicks off at 3 p.m.
more at the jump…
The rockabilly hotrod crowd strutting SoCo today may have the 1950s look down to a tee, but the ubiquitous tattoos they sport is proof enough they’re products of the current age.
When my dad was in high school, the only people he knew with tattoos were 19 year old guys with “USMC” inked on their biceps. And my grandfather, an orthopedic surgeon, once said to my dad, “Pete, I’ve never had a patient with a tattoo who paid his bills.”
The current popularity of tattoos is a change in American culture my parents and their friends still love to tsssk over. But these days, plenty of the youth they see around town who have clearly spent long hours under the tattoo artist’s needle are likely upstanding, bill-paying citizens. And it’s true–you can’t swing a dead cat in Austin without hitting a responsible kindergarten teacher covered in ink.
I’m hoping my dad will head down to South Congress for the parade. Because even if he won’t care for the tattoos on display, I’m sure he’d love to oogle the cars, and if he settled in at the Continental Club for a beer he’d certainly find a band or two rocking out songs he listened to back at those McCallum High School dances he drove to in that sweet 1948 Plymouth.
Note: The Round Up will last all weekend with live music, a giant car show, and plenty of time for the rockabilly crowd to flaunt their style, and their rides, all over Austin.
All photos by Mary Lowry. 4/08/10.
Great blog!