June 2, 2007


At this point, those of you who aren't already acquainted with me in real life at least know me well enough to be aware of my love for most anything midcentury, so you know how thrilled I'd be if there was some sort of time capsule buried right in my backyard that contained a little slice of everyday life in the late 50s. You also know I'd be beside myself with excitement if contained in, say, a vault under the courthouse lawn, there was a brand new 1957 Plymouth Belvedere Sport Coupe stuffed with goodies from that same year. And if (let's just imagine here for a minute) they were going to unearth this buried treasure in two weeks for all to see, and Charles Phoenix was coming to town to behold the sight, well, you know I'd be practically tinkling myself in anticipation.

It was all part of "Tulsarama!", T-Town's celebration of Oklahoma's semi-centennial. At that time, it was decided that a time capsule should be buried for the Tulsans of 2007 to open as part of the state's 100th anniversary festivities. In 1957 Tulsa had more cars per capita than any other city in America, besides Los Angeles. The idea to bury a Plymouth, apparently, came about as a way to outdo Oklahoma City's time capsule. (Take that, OKC!) "Suddenly it's 1960" was Plymouth's advertising slogan for its daring new style of automobile in 1957. The Tulsarama! committee played on this slogan with their own catch phrase, "Suddenly it's 2007". The person (or that person's next of kin) to come closest in 1957 to guessing what Tulsa's population would be fifty years in the future would be the lucky winner of the car and a trust fund now valued at $700. The official population estimate is 382,457.
Included with the car were ten gallons of gasoline and five quarts of Tulsa oil, just in case the scientifically superior citizens of 2007 had moved beyond petroleum to more advanced forms of energy. In addition, placed in the car's glove box were the contents of a woman's purse including:
fourteen bobby pins
a ladies' compact plastic rain cap
a tube of lipstick
a pack of gum
facial tissues
$2.73 in bills and coins
a pack of cigarettes with matches
an unpaid parking ticket
and, my favorite, a bottle of tranquilizers.
I'll be there for the unearthing (well, as close as I can get, anyway) and the big reveal later that night. I want Sugar Pea to be present for a unique moment in Tulsa's, and the world's, history. Perhaps Charles and I will pop a few Mother's Little Helpers and crack open a Schlitz to celebrate 100 years of statehood. Won't you join us?


Stephen said...

I was slightly disapointed that the saivings account hadn't made more money than that. Well I guess it's back to the drawing board for my retirement fund.

Angelina said...

That is so cool! I have buried a couple of time capsules myself but failed to note the precise location of these treasures, so I can only wonder if anyone will dig them up by accident. I don't even remember what I put in them. Now if only I had had a blog back then I would have recorded it all.

How cool of the city to think of something to amuse it's next generation! (Or two, by now?)