Rock on, Howard.
Not only is your '64 my dream car -- the way Elanor was to Nick Cage in "Gone in 60 Seconds" -- but it's the exact color I'd want if I had one.
Your 356SL strikes me as the perfect rendering of a Koncept from an era when people here in the U.S. were busy buying lawn darts with exaggerated tail fins and big drum brakes. The eyebrows are totally in keeping with the era, which a nostalgia buff like me appreciates in a weekend toy.
Would I do that? Pra'lly not. Would I like to cruise down some windy stretch of highway in a caravan of yours, mine, a perfect replica of the Speedster and a coupl'a outlaw coupes? You bet. And twice on Sunday. It's about variety.
For me, it's about smelling gasoline, MobilGas Pegasus decals and goggles when the rain catches you. It's about the rorty exhaust of a flat-four at too many RPMs and the smell of asbestos brakes protesting against an engaged driveshaft. It's about the diner, chrome and talking to old guys about that P.O.S. they used to have as if they could still see it gleaming in the sun.
Not everyone in the U.S. remembers the 50s. Some of us looked at that old Yank Tank that Granddad had in the garage and wondered how cool it would have been to cruise with him as a teenager.
My Grandpa used to roll smokes up in the sleeve of his white tee-shirt, and the "Tank" was a '67 Plymouth Valiant. My old man had a Hot Rod Lincoln.
Not everyone had the good fortune to meet Harley Earl, either. Hell, looks like even Detroit has forgotten about that guy. You've got a true custom there, and I like it. Even that diner-stool-green thing you've got going on looks right for the car.
I like it.