Sex on wheels: cars of the stars

FATTY ARBUCKLE AND HIS 1919 PIERCE ARROW

ERICH VON STROHEIM AND HIS CADILLAC

HAROLD LLOYD AND WIFE MILDRED DAVIS WITH THEIR BUICK

LINCOLN THEODORE MONROE ANDREW PERRY, AKA STEPIN FETCHIT, WITH HIS CADILLAC PHAETON

JOAN CRAWFORD WITH HER 1929 FORD TOWN CAR

BABE RUTH RECEIVING A 1926 AUBURN ROADSTER AS A GIFT

LILLIAN HARVEY AND HER MERCEDES

JOHNNY WEISSMULLER WITH HIS 1932 CHEVROLET

CLARK GABLE WITH HIS 1932 PACKARD

LAUREL AND HARDY IN THEIR BUICK 1930 SERIES 30 MODEL 30-45 PHAETON

JOAN CRAWFORD (AGAIN) AND HER 1930 (OR 1931) CADILLAC FLEETWOOD

CARL BRISSON BEHIND THE WHEEL OF HIS 1934 ISOTTA FRASCHINI

AL JOLSON WITH HIS MERCEDES

JEAN HARLOW WITH HER CADILLAC

WILLIAM POWELL ADMIRES GARY COOPER'S DUESENBERG

BUCK JONES WITH HIS 1933 PACKARD SPECIAL

ERROL FLYNN DRIVING HIS PACKARD

.... AND AUBURN ROADSTER

TYRONE POWER WITH HIS DUESENBERG

.... AND POST-WAR JAGUAR

ROBERT MONTGOMERY WITH HIS CADILLAC SPORT PHAETON

JOAN CRAWFORD (YES, AGAIN) IN HER 1933 FORD ROADSTER

JAMES "JIMMY" STEWART WITH HIS PLYMOUTH

GINGER ROGERS AND HER 1937 DODGE

NORWEGIAN OLYMPIC FIGURE-SKATING CHAMPION, AND HOLLYWOOD STAR SONJA HENIE, POSING WITH HER 1936 CORD 810

CECIL B. DE MILLE WITH HIS 1937 CORD

RITA HAYWORTH WITH HER 1941 LINCOLN CONTINENTAL

BING CROSBY GIVING RIDES AROUND THE STUDIO LOT IN HIS 1939 OLDS COUPE CONVERTIBLE

CARY GRANT PARKED ON THE FENDER OF HIS 1941 BUICK CENTURY

JOHN WAYNE AND MAUREEN O'HARA IN A 1914 STUTZ BEARCAT

(Sent to me by Matt Paust, along with another display of rip-roaring Old West photos which I might reproduce here. These are, as far as I am able to make out, in the public domain, unless passing them around five thousand times means you gotta get permission. I won't say anything about them because they speak for themselves. I have a major jones for old cars AND a major jones for old Hollywood, so this is pure bliss to me.)

Visit Margaret's Amazon Author Page!

Auto eroticism

                                                                                                                 

                                                                                     

Behold! His Mighty Hand. Or something. I feel as if I'm in one of those Cecil B. DeMille epics where Moses discovers the burning bush and takes off his sandals and falls on his face.

For this is The Ultimate Car. 

YES.

The 1939 Bentley Embiricos.

What is a Bentley Embiricos, you may ask? Hell if I know, except that of all the gorgeous, bulbous old cars I've ever looked at, this one is the most flagrantly, lavishly erotic.

Erotic, because why? Because its bulbousness, femaleness, shyly covered rear wheels implying an intimate boudoir or bridal chamber, contrast startlingly with slyly tapered, fiercely-pointed fenders, an even more fierce point at the tail, and squatty primeval-looking predatory "legs" that throw the whole machine into a kind of snarly crouch.

This is less a car than something alive. Something with animus, with soul.

I don't know who Embiricos was, and I don't care much (except I feel a bit guilty and negligent not researching him for this post). Some race car driver, or someone who could afford to have a whole car designed after him - like Edsel, except this one was GOOD. The Embiricos appears to have been manufactured for several years, from about 1936 to 1939, but I can't see much difference in it from year to year. It just goes from exotically gorgeous to exotically gorgeous.

It's funny, because to me it has more of the look of a '40s car, with all those pregnant-looking bulges. But at the same time there is the pointiness, even angularity, and a raciness that implies gazelle-like speed. You could take this thing out on the track back in 1939 and beat the hell out of all those pathetic Bugattis and whatever-else-was-around.

I think it's obvious by now that I know nothing whatsoever about vintage cars. But I know what I like. I have the most embarrassing reaction to them. I want to sit on the roof of this thing, facing its rear bumper, and just sli-i-i-i-i-i-de on down.

(and omigodlookatthoserearwindowstheymakemewanttoediieeeEEEEEE)

There is a name for this fetish-y thing I'm talking about. Can't remember it, but there was a whole TV series about it, My Amazing Whackadoodle Addiction or Compulsion or something. A woman was going to marry the Eiffel Tower, for example, but I guess he said no. Another woman wanted to marry a carnival ride (which didn't work, by the way - I didn't get that one at all, for if a ride doesn't work, how would you get off?)

I don't really want to marry cars like this one. I want to have lustiferous affairs with them, ride around inside them to the creak of leather and the woah-woah-woah-woah-woah hummy sound of an old-fashioned car engine. I've heard that riding in these things is sort of like being in a Sherman tank (not that I've ever been in one of THOSE either), in that they seem simply huge inside and out. 

Every year, Bill and I go to a local car show which is made up of about 85% vintage: cars older than 40 years. The oldest of these, a Ford predating the Model T, had a crank. The one I first had a real Jones for was a little red Corvette (do they come in any other colour?) that I wanted to slip into my pocket. But in the last few years, the '40s models, wide and swaggering, chugging along like mighty seagoing vessels, have done it for me. 

And yet, look at this one! It predates them all. And from every angle, it looks like a different car. It even looks downright modern from the side. This front view looks very race-car-ish - as a matter of fact, it's downright futuristic, like the Batmobile or Supercar. It looks as if it could easily take off and fly, its rear jets blazing.

But the sleekness from the side. . . oh God. Gulp. I want to lick it, to swallow it. It's just that kind of car. You could put it on a stick in the summer and consume it. 

I'd sing to it. Wrap it up in a blanket at night (one-o-those tarp thingies).

I'd wish upon it, instead of a star.

I'd knock on it, instead of wood.

"BEHOLD, HIS MIGHTY HAND!"

Wondercar: the 1948 Davis Divan

Davis Motorcar Company

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Davis Motorcar Company

Former type	Automobile Manufacturing
Industry	Automotive, Military
Genre	Three-wheeled cars
Fate	Defunct
Founded	1947
Founder	Glenn Gordon "Gary" Davis
Defunct	1948
Headquarters	Van Nuys, California, United States
Area served	United States
Products	Vehicles

The Davis Motorcar Company was an American automobile manufacturer based in Van Nuys, in the San Fernando Valley region of Los Angeles, California, which produced three-wheeled automobiles from 1947 to 1948. In total the company produced 15 to 17 vehicles.^[1]

Contents

  [hide] 

• 1 History
• 2 Demise
• 3 Delta Motor Car Company
• 4 Vehicles
• 5 References
• 6 Bibliography
• 7 External links

History[edit]

Founder Glenn Gordon "Gary" Davis (d. 1973) acquired a prototype called "The Californian" from designer Frank Kurtis, who built it for millionaire racecar driver Joel Thorne.^[1]

Davis operated in a 57,000 sq. ft. former aircraft assembly building in Van Nuys, where a prototype three-wheeler named "Baby" was built. Baby was powered by a 47 hp Hercules 4-cylinder engine coupled to a Borg-Warner 3-speed transmission and Spicer rear end. Baby was unique in that it featured four-across seating. It was planned that production, beginning in 1948, would start at a minimum of 50 cars a day later increasing to 1000. A second prototype called "Delta" was built, and a third prototype, the model 482, was completed later. The third model, the "Divan", established standards for the production Davis cars.

The company closed down in 1948, as workers and engineers were not being paid, and lawsuits were threatened by investors and dealers. Former employees then filed suit for back pay, and the company was investigated on allegations of fraud. Soon after the Davis plant was shut down, Gary Davis was convicted on 20 of 28 counts of theft (he was acquitted on four counts of theft and four of fraud) and was sentenced to 8 months to two years in jail.

Davis developed a variant for military use. The Model 494 was a Jeep-like version of the Divan with an open body. Arrangements were ongoing with the Pentagon to run tests at the Aberdeen Proving Grounds in Maryland. Ultimately three 494s were built in less than a week, two of which were shipped to the Army for testing.

Blogger's Observations. I'm going to ask Bill about this thing. I'm going to ask Bill about it because he knows everything about every kind of car - I mean, he scary-knows, he's never wrong, especially about dates. But will he know about this one, only 15 to 17 of which were ever manufactured, let alone sold?

There's a surprising amount on the internet and YouTube about the 1948 Davis Divan, making me suspicious that these are recreations based on existing blueprints or plans or whatever-it-is-they-call-those-things-you-use-to-make-a-car-with. Doesn't it make you suspicious that the number they say they manufactured is so imprecise? Well, what WAS it - 15, 16 or 17? I want to know!

And if so few were made, why did I find so many pictures and videos and stuff, including a whole half-hour YouTube video of Jay Leno driving one around in Van Nuys, wherever that is? I didn't watch it cuz it looked pretty boring, and I don't like Jay Leno and am glad he's gone. The little clip I found of the Davis at a car show (which I turned into a gif, the green one on the green grass) had an announcer claiming the idea of the car came from Howard Hughes. My ass it did. Howard Hughes was too smart to invest in a company that lasted barely a year, spat out 15 cars or so, and sank in a quagmire of lawsuits and jail sentences. 

The little bit at the end of the Wiki blurb says something about developing a prototype for the military, but I find that even harder to swallow, unless they wanted a car small enough to fold up and store in an officer's kit bag or whatever it is those guys cart around with them when there's a war on.

To me it looks a bit like Ollie of Kukla, Fran and Ollie, a friendly dragon puppet with big nostrils. I always think it looks like cars have faces. They have faces coming, and they have faces going. This one is more strange than any I've seen.

POST-BLOG GLOB: As usual, I've found out some more about this subject. No doubt if I kept digging, I'd keep finding more. Books may have been written about it, but I'm almost afraid to find out: all I need is another obsession in my life. This Gary Davis guy was either a visionary with a brilliant plan to revolutionalize the automotive industry, or a crook out to bilk as many people as possible. (Bilk has nothing to do with Sergeant Bilko, played by Phil Silvers whom I hate.) He convinced a lot of people to back him big-time and came up with a big splashy ad campaign, probably pre-selling a lot of vehicles which never materialized. He even jumped into the infant medium of television, featuring his car-of-the-future on an early police show. An opportunist, either brilliant or sociopathically crooked, there were whispers he was merely the puppet of the insane Howard Hughes. Surely he took the dive, as they say in boxing, for the short-end money (and the jail sentence).

Gary Davis envisioned Davis Divan dealerships springing up all over the United States and perhaps Canada, which is pretty hard to pull off if you have no cars to sell. The fact that so many of them still exist is curious, but hey, these cars never sold, as far as I know, and were either warehoused or bought up by someone who loves to collect curiosa. The more I think about the 1948 Davis, the stranger it seems: FOUR adults could sit next to each other on the bench seat, including, I guess, the driver, and I don't see how that could happen in a car that small. (Of course people were a lot skinnier in those days.) Nowadays we'd want to know the gas mileage, and if it could maybe be converted to electric or at least a hybrid. I saw many three-wheeled vehicles in my long-ago trip to Italy, but there was nothing glamorous about them: they were grubby little trucks narrow enough to get through laneways so skinny you could reach out and touch them on either side. 

  Visit Margaret's Amazon Author Page!

http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001K7NGDA