Born 1934, I remember those times very well and (mostly) fondly. Had a 1939 Plymouth business coupe in college, no money for dates (if any would have gone for a ride in that brown hunk of metal). No muffler but a long piece of flex pipe that wrapped around the rear bumper. The battery died, so for six months I parked on hills or pushed it on level, then jumped in and crammed it into gear to jump start. My mother took a picture of (7 year old? me and neighbor girl friend) standing by the house holding hands with the garbage cans as background. Wish I could find that picture now of Betty and me. Nostalgia is fine and I am not senile "thank you G-d".