While I was growing up, I found my parents achingly out of step with the new. No gadgets or trends of any sort, antiques/vintage preferred, classic above all. My father would take us on long drives during which we were only allowed to listen to the Platters. If we watched a movie together, it would be something like From Here to Eternity. My mother would find things like Marimekko screens on the street, make art out of shells she collected, and never complained when I laid on the deck off the sunroom, staring at the stars for hours while playing one of her Bob Dylan records a hundred times in a row –– is there any better salve for a seventh grade crush than "Don't Think Twice, It's Alright"? Now of course I'm deeply appreciative of the eye that they gave me. Like when people dither over the car that they should get. How hard can it be? There's only one good one.
[1965 230SL convertible, $19,900 at Silver Star Restorations]
Windowlicker - from the French for window shopping: faire du lèche-vitrine - often appears on Tuesday and Thursdays at 10am EST-ish.