Even though I am a dyed-in-the-wool Gen Xer, I pine for the '70s. Probably because I was a child and everything seemed cool. When I watch movies like Halloween, Dazed and Confused and The Ice Storm I desperately want to go back in time to be a teenager or young adult, circa 1976. The cars, the clothes, the music, the drugs, the sex, the swinging. I might not participate in all of the activities going on, but man, I'd soak it all in. The '70s were the last great decade of love before the consumer-centric '80s turned us all into "ME! ME! ME!" robots. Friends of mine who were teenagers in the '70s tell me it wasn't all it's cracked up to be. I refuse to believe that.
The '70s were also the last decade that my extended family was all together. My cousins were my first friends and each holiday brought us all to my grandparents' house in a small Indiana town. July 4th meant a cookout, watermelon, horseshoes, croquet, catching lightning bugs in a jar and ending the evening watching fireworks from the hood of my aunt's Monte Carlo. Everyone is spread out across the state now and gatherings are rare. The '70s seem like such a simple time to me. Like the Baby Boomers love their '50s and '60s, I love me some '70s.
I will have this car someday and I'll relive the '70s with my friends. I envision me driving around in this beautiful 1972 Camaro, blasting Heart and Led Zeppelin. Don't make fun of me if you see me.