It’s a story about a family of pigs, but its impact on my life has been profound
Richard Scarry’s Cars and Trucks and Things That Go was my favorite book when I was little, and I believe that it is one of the most important works of automotive literature. Not because the story is so good. But because it was the gateway to a love of cars for many of us.
The storyline follows the Pig family on a round trip to the beach. Along the way, they pass scenes that range from a cityscape to a snowy mountain pass, and work sites like a lumber camp and a military installation manned by happy critters. Typical kid book fare.Â
The magic was the illustrated cars. I was sucked in, thinking of the adventures that each driver certainly enjoyed and I daydreamed about the adventures I would have in those cars. My relationship with car auction sites like Bring a Trailer today isn’t much different.
Yes, Cars and Trucks and Things that Go put me on the path to being an utterly hopeless car nerd. Perhaps it did the same for you. I just couldn’t put it down. I probably learned to read because of it.
I’m sure that other kids loved the imaginary cars. The ones shaped like an alligator, rhinoceros, pickle, or even Lowly Worm’s apple car. To me, growing up in upstate New York among the worst of the malaise era automobiles, my interest lay in the realistic looking cars. The VW Beetle, the Citroen 2CV, the sports cars, open-wheel racers, and dragsters introduced me to engaging design and made me dream of a life like I saw in movies. I wanted to drive those cars and to be free, so it shouldn’t come as any surprise that Dingo Dog filled my childhood daydreams.Â
In the opening pages, Dingo is labeled a terrible driver for running over a sidewalk full of parking meters. Officer Flossy yells for Dingo to stop, but he flees. The chase is on. Officer Flossy is on her bicycle, and Dingo is in a red sports car that looks somewhat like a 1950s Ferrari. And the car is scared. Yes, Dingo behaves like the 5-year-old we all desire to be during our most spirited drives. He’s carefree, reckless, and terrorizes all who are in his path. We shouldn’t like Dingo, but we long to be like Dingo.
His Ferrari is the tool that makes this happen, even if it appears to be an unwilling participant. Dingo drives it to its limit, Officer Flossy in pursuit, until the little red car can go no further and collapses, wheezing, “Whew! I’m tired!” Isn’t that the goal? Dingo, you’re still my hero.
This book overloaded my young senses in much the same way that I feel when I spend too much time on social media today. And, as you’d expect, my social media is about 90% car pictures and 10% family and friends, preferably in their cars.
I’m not sure if the book was ever out of print, but we somehow didn’t buy it for my kids when they were young. We read Busy Town, instead. Cars and Trucks turned 50 last year, and Golden Books reissued it as a 50th anniversary edition that includes a letter to readers from Huck Scarry, Richard’s son. Huck’s letter introduces us to Richard Scarry and describes the genesis of this book.
What makes the book so special? Well, Huck writes that his dad was a car guy who drove an MG TC in the early 1950s. Later, the family had a VW Beetle convertible, just like the one the Pig Family drove. Richard Scarry was one of us.
You know what else? Every car in the book is colorful. Excluding the Scarry family’s personal MG, a truck, and an ambulance, there’s not a single car painted in black, white, or grey. It’s a world I’d love to live in, where cars are colorful and full of personality.
As of now, the only copy of this book that my extended family owns is the one that I bought after remembering its effect on me. But you can bet that it will be my new go-to gift for family and friends with young kids. After all, doesn’t the world need more people who are passionate about cars?
About the author
Jason Meshnick
Editor-at-Large, Autoblog