Supernatural and the Underclass 6- Cars (a)
Supernatural and the Underclass 6- Cars (a)
Part 1- Intro | Part 2- Dangers of Underclass | Part 3- Music | Part 4- War | Part 5- Clothes
-This is the first part of a fairly substantial section of meta regarding cars. I try to keep the meta around 3-5 pages per go, to keep from overwhelming readers. So this will be the first part of the section regarding vehicles in Supernatural. This is more of a general introduction, and then we'll move onto specific instances in the show.
America is a big ass place, and we've never quite gotten around to linking it all together, aside for miles of blacktop that stretch from state to state, region to region, coast to coast. It is no surprise then that part of our national identity has been woven into our modes of transport. In Supernatural, the enormous fondness for the various cars that appear on the show have all their own story, and they are as much tied to the characters as they are to American culture.
In general, cars have always been a symbol of independence and freedom. One of the biggest events of the lives of American teenagers is passing the road test, which basically means you are no longer tied to one spot, nor reliant on adults and older siblings to get places. In rural and suburban places, where supplies can be dozens of miles away, the most reliable tool is your vehicle.
The starting of manufacturing of cars corresponded with a jump in American mentality. We were fresh out of the first World War, and a lot of historians would agree that this was the start of the real modern age as we understand it. America before now was something of an isolationist country- we ignored the policies and problems of other countries, and in turn expected to be left alone to our own devices.
After WWI, America realized that it didn't have the luxury of staying cooped up in its own little corner of the room. We started sharing our culture, ideas, and policies. The roaring 20's swung about, and along with it came anew invention: the combustible engine. It revolutionized the world, and introduced another very important invention: the automobile.
Companies like Ford, Chevrolet, Chrysler, General Motors started manufacturing cheap, reliable cars by factory. Because of the economic boom, cars were fairly well selling, and helped create an entirely new dynamic of America. Unfortunately, the Great Depression fell hard on its heels, and we were left with little money and a lot of cars. People escaping from the Dust Bowl, that area of land in the Midwest that was farmed to obliteration by tractors and massive farmland.
We slipped into the second World War, and with it another boom in economy. Cars were regarded as essential in the line of defense, and factories began producing again. We marched into the 50s securely as a world power, and with it a new leisure lifestyle. We traveled the country with our cars, taking weeks and months to finally explore the vast areas of our country, now that we had time and money.
By the mid fifties, and continuing into the 60s, cars became a symbol of the counterculture. Hundred of young people could pack into a car and leave the stifling establishment behind. The late fifties and early sixties saw the birth of the muscle cars, emphasizing style and power rather than functionality. These were now squarely luxury commodities, owned by people who could afford them, and were eventually inherited by the youths of their generation who lusted after them.
Of course, very little ever changed for the underclass. Small farmers across the nation didn't own tractors until the 50s or 60s, and in the 30s, it was still common to forgo a car in favor of your horse. By the 40s, a massive amount of poor men enlisted into the armed forces, and as a result, cars just didn't seem quite so important.
By the 50s, with the middle class finally rising as a major social force, this was the first time that as a whole, it seemed a issue if you didn't own a car. If you were poor, and didn't own a car, you could get to see the countless people driving past who did, for the most part gawping at the quaint countryside and your rustic manners.
Something finally snapped a little bit in the 60s. The middle class could see how little the poor had, and the poor could see how much everyone else had. The aging automotive relics of the 50s became the cheap, flashy cars of poorer youths in the 60s.
This is where John comes in. He grew up during the heyday of sleek, stylish cars, and you can bet that he wanted one. You can bet that he didn't have enough money to buy one before he went to Nam, but got one when he came back. With a lot of disposable money, and a stomachful of war, he got one of those cars that by now meant to people like his parents that you were trouble.
By the 60s and 70s, muscle cars became popular with young people, particularly ones that people would label punks. Partly this was another echo from Vietnam, where all of these young men got drafted into the war before they had the buying power to get these awesome cars, and afterwards, when they had more attitude and money, they could finally get them and stick it to the people that needed it.
This is basically the siren song of the Impala, and what it meant to John. For a family man in suburban Kansas, with a steady job as a mechanic, it meant he was a man with a past. A good guy, but a guy with a streak of something darker. While we can't see whether or not they had another vehicle in their driveway, we can assume John kept the Impala around as a way to remind himself of the kid who became a Marine.
In my time and area, Impalas, Mustangs, and Camarros are popular for reasons that have nothing to do with NASCAR. There are hundreds of these old things, scattered around the countryside, lovingly maintained, owned by people much like John Winchester. Vietnam vets who wanted a slice of the American pie dream, but had to swallow a bellyful of hell to get at it first. Finally, the rural underclass, a couple decades past their prime, can own the cars they admired in their youths. It's a little sad, but they're often regarded as trashy for displaying them out in their yards, for reasons I'm not entirely sure of.
To kids my age and class, trying to get a hold of an old time muscle car is the equivalent of trying to snatch a piece of American history, a part that doesn't really belong to us, and own it for ourselves. It's as impossible as it sounds. We admire them, and that massive tumult that shaped the era and the people there.
When we see John, we see that he's moved onto this massive truck with raised wheel wells. I'm going to comment on the wheels first, because to rural Americans, only idiots or hunters ride around with their wheels raised. The reason is that it helps stability and suspension, so when you're traveling across stuff that isn't flat blacktop, you don't get caught and mired in holes and stuff, plus your axles don't get wound up with grass and shrubs. This is obviously important to hunters, but if you see some guy randomly tooling around with his car raised, outside of hunting season, for the most part he's just trying to look cool. Give the impression he's a hunter/outdoorsmen/whatever, especially when that truck is sparklingly clean.
As for the make and model of John's truck, and what it means. Well, He's moved onto the GMC, the last of the great American motor companies. Chevrolets, Fords, and GMCs have long been the working man's truck, and there's a fair amount of snobbery for dedicated brand owners. For example, my Dad and Mom have only ever bought Fords, mostly because the Ford trucks of the 60s and 70s were goddamn tanks. They withstood pretty much everything, and I still remember the old 60s blue Ford in my early teens, which would have been the mid 90s.
The Winchesters seem to be impartial brand owners. Chevys are seen for the most part as somewhat less reliable, since by the 50s they were obsessed with modernizing and updating their image to keep up with the luxury lifestyle. This is why you'll more like hear a Chevrolet called a Chevy, because back in the 50s, they encouraged the nickname to sound more fun and less stuffy. Now, Chevy's been trying to get back to the more dignified Chevrolet, and turn about its image as a luxury vehicle line. You'll still hear a lot of working class people snicker at Chevy trucks, though.
Anyway, the truck itself. The truck is a GMC, which has always been associated as a kind of working brand. You'll see fewer small cars bearing the name, unless they're from the 80s and earlier. It's apparently a 1981 GMC Sierra 1500 regular cab, if my internet sleuthing is to be believed. The cab part is really important, so I'll go to that first. For truck, you have basically two options with small variations: regular cab or crew cab. A regular cab only seats two to three people, depending on whether or not you've got a bench seat up front. A crew cab seats anywhere from four to (safely) six people (but can accommodate something like 8 if you aren't worried about getting squished). For John to get a regular cab means that he's no longer keeping the boys into his equation when he's moving around, and yet another way of showing how isolated and cut off he is from the boys.
Apparently it also has 350 horsepower, which is a lot of damn horsepower. Nuff said. Basically, a workman's truck. It also has a regular bed, which is big enough to carry material and stuff, but isn't the hugest issue. My parents have only ever gotten trucks with long beds because those are farm trucks, so it makes sense that John didn't need one because he didn't need it. Commercial truck owners who are also tools tend to get the long beds, too. It is because they are compensating for something. Okay, I'm being unfair. But if you ask a rural truck owner, who used the truck for its intended purpose of hauling junk, to give their opinion of a person who owns a truck just cause it's cool, and that's what they'll say.
Next, we'll look at some of the instances in the series where vehicles are brought out as important themes as related to the underclass.
Part 1- Intro | Part 2- Dangers of Underclass | Part 3- Music | Part 4- War | Part 5- Clothes
-This is the first part of a fairly substantial section of meta regarding cars. I try to keep the meta around 3-5 pages per go, to keep from overwhelming readers. So this will be the first part of the section regarding vehicles in Supernatural. This is more of a general introduction, and then we'll move onto specific instances in the show.
America is a big ass place, and we've never quite gotten around to linking it all together, aside for miles of blacktop that stretch from state to state, region to region, coast to coast. It is no surprise then that part of our national identity has been woven into our modes of transport. In Supernatural, the enormous fondness for the various cars that appear on the show have all their own story, and they are as much tied to the characters as they are to American culture.
In general, cars have always been a symbol of independence and freedom. One of the biggest events of the lives of American teenagers is passing the road test, which basically means you are no longer tied to one spot, nor reliant on adults and older siblings to get places. In rural and suburban places, where supplies can be dozens of miles away, the most reliable tool is your vehicle.
The starting of manufacturing of cars corresponded with a jump in American mentality. We were fresh out of the first World War, and a lot of historians would agree that this was the start of the real modern age as we understand it. America before now was something of an isolationist country- we ignored the policies and problems of other countries, and in turn expected to be left alone to our own devices.
After WWI, America realized that it didn't have the luxury of staying cooped up in its own little corner of the room. We started sharing our culture, ideas, and policies. The roaring 20's swung about, and along with it came anew invention: the combustible engine. It revolutionized the world, and introduced another very important invention: the automobile.
Companies like Ford, Chevrolet, Chrysler, General Motors started manufacturing cheap, reliable cars by factory. Because of the economic boom, cars were fairly well selling, and helped create an entirely new dynamic of America. Unfortunately, the Great Depression fell hard on its heels, and we were left with little money and a lot of cars. People escaping from the Dust Bowl, that area of land in the Midwest that was farmed to obliteration by tractors and massive farmland.
We slipped into the second World War, and with it another boom in economy. Cars were regarded as essential in the line of defense, and factories began producing again. We marched into the 50s securely as a world power, and with it a new leisure lifestyle. We traveled the country with our cars, taking weeks and months to finally explore the vast areas of our country, now that we had time and money.
By the mid fifties, and continuing into the 60s, cars became a symbol of the counterculture. Hundred of young people could pack into a car and leave the stifling establishment behind. The late fifties and early sixties saw the birth of the muscle cars, emphasizing style and power rather than functionality. These were now squarely luxury commodities, owned by people who could afford them, and were eventually inherited by the youths of their generation who lusted after them.
Of course, very little ever changed for the underclass. Small farmers across the nation didn't own tractors until the 50s or 60s, and in the 30s, it was still common to forgo a car in favor of your horse. By the 40s, a massive amount of poor men enlisted into the armed forces, and as a result, cars just didn't seem quite so important.
By the 50s, with the middle class finally rising as a major social force, this was the first time that as a whole, it seemed a issue if you didn't own a car. If you were poor, and didn't own a car, you could get to see the countless people driving past who did, for the most part gawping at the quaint countryside and your rustic manners.
Something finally snapped a little bit in the 60s. The middle class could see how little the poor had, and the poor could see how much everyone else had. The aging automotive relics of the 50s became the cheap, flashy cars of poorer youths in the 60s.
This is where John comes in. He grew up during the heyday of sleek, stylish cars, and you can bet that he wanted one. You can bet that he didn't have enough money to buy one before he went to Nam, but got one when he came back. With a lot of disposable money, and a stomachful of war, he got one of those cars that by now meant to people like his parents that you were trouble.
By the 60s and 70s, muscle cars became popular with young people, particularly ones that people would label punks. Partly this was another echo from Vietnam, where all of these young men got drafted into the war before they had the buying power to get these awesome cars, and afterwards, when they had more attitude and money, they could finally get them and stick it to the people that needed it.
This is basically the siren song of the Impala, and what it meant to John. For a family man in suburban Kansas, with a steady job as a mechanic, it meant he was a man with a past. A good guy, but a guy with a streak of something darker. While we can't see whether or not they had another vehicle in their driveway, we can assume John kept the Impala around as a way to remind himself of the kid who became a Marine.
In my time and area, Impalas, Mustangs, and Camarros are popular for reasons that have nothing to do with NASCAR. There are hundreds of these old things, scattered around the countryside, lovingly maintained, owned by people much like John Winchester. Vietnam vets who wanted a slice of the American pie dream, but had to swallow a bellyful of hell to get at it first. Finally, the rural underclass, a couple decades past their prime, can own the cars they admired in their youths. It's a little sad, but they're often regarded as trashy for displaying them out in their yards, for reasons I'm not entirely sure of.
To kids my age and class, trying to get a hold of an old time muscle car is the equivalent of trying to snatch a piece of American history, a part that doesn't really belong to us, and own it for ourselves. It's as impossible as it sounds. We admire them, and that massive tumult that shaped the era and the people there.
When we see John, we see that he's moved onto this massive truck with raised wheel wells. I'm going to comment on the wheels first, because to rural Americans, only idiots or hunters ride around with their wheels raised. The reason is that it helps stability and suspension, so when you're traveling across stuff that isn't flat blacktop, you don't get caught and mired in holes and stuff, plus your axles don't get wound up with grass and shrubs. This is obviously important to hunters, but if you see some guy randomly tooling around with his car raised, outside of hunting season, for the most part he's just trying to look cool. Give the impression he's a hunter/outdoorsmen/whatever, especially when that truck is sparklingly clean.
As for the make and model of John's truck, and what it means. Well, He's moved onto the GMC, the last of the great American motor companies. Chevrolets, Fords, and GMCs have long been the working man's truck, and there's a fair amount of snobbery for dedicated brand owners. For example, my Dad and Mom have only ever bought Fords, mostly because the Ford trucks of the 60s and 70s were goddamn tanks. They withstood pretty much everything, and I still remember the old 60s blue Ford in my early teens, which would have been the mid 90s.
The Winchesters seem to be impartial brand owners. Chevys are seen for the most part as somewhat less reliable, since by the 50s they were obsessed with modernizing and updating their image to keep up with the luxury lifestyle. This is why you'll more like hear a Chevrolet called a Chevy, because back in the 50s, they encouraged the nickname to sound more fun and less stuffy. Now, Chevy's been trying to get back to the more dignified Chevrolet, and turn about its image as a luxury vehicle line. You'll still hear a lot of working class people snicker at Chevy trucks, though.
Anyway, the truck itself. The truck is a GMC, which has always been associated as a kind of working brand. You'll see fewer small cars bearing the name, unless they're from the 80s and earlier. It's apparently a 1981 GMC Sierra 1500 regular cab, if my internet sleuthing is to be believed. The cab part is really important, so I'll go to that first. For truck, you have basically two options with small variations: regular cab or crew cab. A regular cab only seats two to three people, depending on whether or not you've got a bench seat up front. A crew cab seats anywhere from four to (safely) six people (but can accommodate something like 8 if you aren't worried about getting squished). For John to get a regular cab means that he's no longer keeping the boys into his equation when he's moving around, and yet another way of showing how isolated and cut off he is from the boys.
Apparently it also has 350 horsepower, which is a lot of damn horsepower. Nuff said. Basically, a workman's truck. It also has a regular bed, which is big enough to carry material and stuff, but isn't the hugest issue. My parents have only ever gotten trucks with long beds because those are farm trucks, so it makes sense that John didn't need one because he didn't need it. Commercial truck owners who are also tools tend to get the long beds, too. It is because they are compensating for something. Okay, I'm being unfair. But if you ask a rural truck owner, who used the truck for its intended purpose of hauling junk, to give their opinion of a person who owns a truck just cause it's cool, and that's what they'll say.
Next, we'll look at some of the instances in the series where vehicles are brought out as important themes as related to the underclass.