One morning I witnessed a student being dropped off at the front gate at my high school by some guy driving a Chrysler Turbine car. I couldn’t believe it. The sound it made! The future had arrived.
I think cars should be beautiful, and you ought to make a car—somebody—Ford, Chrysler, G.M.—somebody’s going to bring out one, and they’ll say, “Wow, look at that,” and that’ll get them all out. Until that happens, they’re a bore.
A time warp into a much different world of design than exists today.
“Call me Irv.”
Late nighters or all nighters were the norm.