Austrailiana part I

Growing up in California, I had what you would call a standard infatuation with cars. I acquired all of the standards: hot wheels, sizzlers, sst’s, tonkas, matchbox. As I got on in my adolescence I graduated to model kits, rmc’s, soapbox’s, bikes, and go-karts. When the intended use of those model kits got old I’d customize them with a bic lighter and some red paint. My friends and I would compete to see who could make the most graphic car wreck. We were sick little kids so in a way we got off on smashing up those models and we wanted to make it look real. But it wasn’t about that.

Simulating those wrecks made it seem less ‘play’ and more real. In a way, it was a device that made it somehow seem like we were grown up and had cars. We were nurturing a desire that was programmed into us since we were old enough to watch a TV or listen to a Beach Boys song. Cars were an extension of our imaginations. They were a symbol of our libidos.

As adults, after we were taught the realities of car ownership, we retuned our perspective and got hooked on the more practical aspects of being a car owner. They gave us independence and we could do anything with them. Including useful stuff, like load them up with groceries, help a friend move, take a date out on the town. You could load up your car with half of your house and go camping for the weekend.

And it was all thanks to the car.

Nowadays, its clear that cars are killing us slowly. We see evidence everywhere that we pay dearly to have them in our lives. Even our mental state suffers from the impact of car ownership.

Yet despite all this we still act like kids when that certain new model comes out or a new action show comes out and the star is a talking high performance crime solver.

During the past few weeks here in Australia I have developed a new fetish for the automobile. Everywhere you look the cars are unique. The first thing you notice is the steering wheel. Right side. The shapes of the cars a different. You see a Ford, yet it doesn’t look like a Ford. You see a van and even those look totally different.

And then there’s the Ute.

Ute, short for utility, is a car and a truck. It would be a car if it didn’t have a fully functional bed. Or it would be a truck if didn’t have a sleekly designed front end. Utes come in all shapes and sizes.

if you want a practical one, you got this kind....



if you'd like to be a little more sporty, then there's this kind....



if you'd like a little more sport....



if you'd like to get some work done then you'll want this one...



if you'd like to be sporty while working then this one's for you...



if you're one for the classics, got ya' covered...



if you'd like your cake and then haul it around before eating it...



if you don't want your cake to get wet while hauling it...



if you're into transporting classic dry cake...



if Quentin Tarrentino was Australian then the 'pussy wagon' would look like this...



.... and if you're plum off your rocker then this is probably yours...

At present I’m still trying to find my Ute. I’m sure its out there. It would have to be part Mystery Machine, part Karmann Ghia. I’ll keep looking for it. But the next time you look at your own car, if you have one, ask yourself if it truly does all the things you need it for.