Christine?

Is this the actual “Christine?” (Photo by Dan Lyons©.)

—The March 2020 entry in my Tide-mark “Cars of the Fab ‘50s” calendar is Richard Frederick’s 1958 Plymouth Fury hardtop, a car that may have starred in the Christine movie.
I don’t know if this car is the actual “Christine,” but it’s painted that way. Plus the license-plate says “CHRISTN.”
The 1958 Plymouth is the best-looking iteration of that styling idiom — gigantic tailfins.
There were other Chrysler cars styled by Virgil Exner. Dodge looked especially stupid and even mighty Chrysler didn’t look as good.
The ’58 Plymouth is what the ’57 shoulda been. 1957 debuted Exner’s “Forward Look” Chryslers.
The ’57 had only two headlights where four shoulda been. The ’57 put the parking-light next to that single headlight — it looked awful.

A ’57 (coulda-shoulda).

—Stuff like this mattered to me back then — and still does.
My wife, who died eight years ago, learned to drive in a ’57 Plymouth.
I remember her telling me that Plymouth was HUGE!
My wife was “automotively-challenged.” But how does one parallel-park such a barge without tugboats?
Her mother, a real pill, became exasperated. How can anyone be so intimidated? Except my wife was like her father, also “automotively-challenged.”
He bought that ’57 Plymouth because they were about to drive Sea-to-Shining-Sea. “V8 power for the mountains!”
Their ’57 started rusting immediately. Late ‘50s Chrysler products were notorious rusters.
My wife said their ’57 Plymouth was the worst car they ever owned. “Who needs dual exhausts?” her mother bellowed. “That’s two exhaust-pipes and mufflers to replace instead of one.”
When I was about 12, my father befriended two people who also attended Moody Bible Institute in Chicago like him. (Moody wasn’t a college back then; now it is.)
The guy became a Moody representative for Delaware Valley. He had access to lotsa Moody paraphernalia, especially movie-projectors and tape-recorders. He visited churches and gave presentations.
My father was so smitten the Moody guy and his wife became “family.” ****** became “Uncle ******,” and his wife “Aunt ***. They were devout Christians, but not sanctimonious zealots like my father.
****** and *** got a ’57 Plymouth just before our family moved to DE. All I remember is the trunk of that Plymouth swallowed a six-foot roll-up movie screen lid closed.
A high-school friend drove his parents’ ’57 stationwagon. One night he clobbered my parents’ ’53 Chevy behind a shopping-center.
No damage to my car, but the left-front bumper and fender of his car were caved in. We both were 17 or 18. Explain that to your parents!
Thankfully I didn’t have to. I’da been yelled at, and probably smacked. “NO MORE KEYS FOR YOU, BOBBY!”
My very first “girlfriend” (as it were), senior year in high-school, her parents had a ’58 Plymouth hardtop.
I’d ride my junky balloon-tire bicycle four miles to her house so we could talk on her porch.
For whatever reason her mother was thrilled. Her father wasn’t. (“He’ll never amount to anything!”)
It would get so dark her mother fired up that ’58 Plymouth to drive me home.
The cavernous trunk of that ’58 Plymouth swallowed my bicycle lid closed.
Cars like what’s pictured are no longer made. Whitewall tires are gone, as are hardtops.
Nowadays you can get away with flipping your car. Flip “CHRISTN” and the roof would crush.

• RE: “automotively-challenged.......” —Always scared driving, and unable to “take command.” If my wife was driving, I’d hafta drive for her from the passenger-seat. “Keep going. You’ll pass him before he merges.”
• “Delaware Valley” centers around Philadelphia, but also included South Jersey and Northern DE. At that time our family lived in South Jersey.