I have lived in the northeast for the most of my life and find that it is good to have a disposable winter car. That slot is currently filled by a 93 Mazda MX-6 that I picked up for $1,500. 200,000 miles and it just goes and goes. It owes me nothing. But consistently does everything that I ask of it.
I have long been an advocate of wind in the hair driving and will always have a ragtop of some kind. Nothing beats a convertible on a twisty back road. I was sad when, in the late 70’s, it appeared as if convertibles were going the way of the dinosaurs. I did my best to maintain the species with, in succession, an MGB, TR6, and Fiat Spyder. In 1990 there was a great rumbling and the heavens parted. God looked down on the poor teeming masses and with benevolent pity on the 8th day he created the MX-5 Miata. Got one and I’ll never give it up.
I graduated from High School in 82 and joined the real world of commuting to pay the bills. At that time our everyday transportation choices were rather bleak. K-cars were rampant. People still drove Gremlin’s and Plymouth Horizons. Honda hadn’t yet taken the world by storm and forced a complete shift in the way that American cars were built. I tried a Plymouth Arrow. What was I thinking? A cougar XR7, ditto. Then I discovered BMW. Ahhhh! They were stylish, fun, sporty, precise and all around nice. My first was a 320i then a 2002 and now a 2000cs. My BMW needs have shifted from pedestrian sporty to just plain historically funky. I no longer use my Bimmer as a commuter. It now fills the role of enjoyable hobby but, it will go from Dallas to Boston whenever you want it to.
Like any self proclaimed car guy, I have always admired Ferrari’s. They are works of art that envelop you. Sure the mystique can be considered just a lot of hype and the product of great marketing. But, there are few other marques that will consistently draw you in with their beautiful design, elegance, and craftsmanship and, for lack of a better word, tension. When you see one, its siren song beckons, promises, “you know you want me. I am the essence of what you are looking for. All others are just pretenders. I am the real thing. Take me! I’ll rock your world. Do it. You know you want to. Resistance is futile”
In 1998 an unusual thing happened to me. I had just moved back to Boston from Boise Idaho after a relationship that had gone sour. I was staying with my sister and working toward my MCSE. One day, my sister’s neighbor, Bob, asked me if I would like to see his Ferrari. Not wanting to disappoint him, I reluctantly said sure…. Who am I kidding? See his Ferrari!!!!!!! Did he mean touch it, smell it, sit in it, hear it, absorb its essence, perhaps even… go for a ride? You betcha!
At the appointed hour, I expected to see red, gnarly wheels, scoops, wings, and 180mph standing still. What was revealed to me was altogether different. She was silver, elegant, proud, Wire wheels, sleek, gorgeous, visceral, and still the tension. An Aston Martin DB5 but 1000 times better. “All others are just pretenders.”
I’ll long remember that ride. Sensory perception overload: the smells of leather and hot motor oil mingling as they should, the cacophony of varied sounds creating an irresistible symphony. Imagine a singer sewing machine on steroids. Combine it with a banshee wail of 12 very industrious cylinders. Throw in the scream of the gears and the precise click of the shifter and top it off with a throbbing burble from the ANSA exhaust. Unlike cars of today you are not isolated, coddled and protected. The car takes you in and you become partners in a grand adventure. “I’ll rock your world.”
Nice.
Remember that I had just left a soured relationship in Boise. At one point during its decline, I had suggested that I would like to someday own a Ferrari. I was met with a rather vehement “that will never happen!” Clearly we were not meant to be together.
At the end of the ride Bob turned to me and asked if I would like to buy her as she no longer met his needs. “Do it.” It was a pipe dream. I had far more important things to worry about. I needed to get my life together. Complete my MCSE, find a job, find an apartment, get back on my feet. Resist, resist… “How much Bob?” Phew! Way too much.
Time went on. I got the certificate with Bill Gates’ signature on the bottom. Got a job. Not a great one but a start. And here was Bob. “I’ll Drop the price”… “You know you want me”… Phew! Still too much. Resist… resist….
More time. Things are cooking with gas. Got a better job. Life is good and still there is Bob. “I’ll drop the price some more.” “I am the real thing. Take Me.”… Resist. What are you thinking? This is crazy. I need to get it together. Resist… resist… resist!
I went to Italian Car day in Brookline MA in the spring of 2000. What a wonderful event. A gaggle of Alfa Romeo’s, Fiats, Pantera’s, Ferrari’s and other hot blooded red Italian exotics. And there, right next to the red things with wings was a car identical to the one that Bob was trying to sell me. This one was black and, in my opinion, was the most elegant and beautiful car on the field that day. “I am the essence of what you are looking for.” Wow it sure is nice. And I know where one is… hmmm.. Crazy! Resist. Resist…
A short time later I happened to meet Bob. “I’ll give you favorable terms on owner financing” says he. “That will never happen!” screams a voice from Boise. “Resistance is Futile” Sings the siren.
Bob, I would be delighted.
It’s now 2004 and I still get giddy.