- you’re the one cute Phi Mu.
- It was drive this or the Malibu
- Oh, hey. That dork from the BK Lounge last night…
- …is still at your place this morning.
- ??? Thanks a lot, Stroh’s!
- You need to drop his ass off but still get to class on time. And not be seen by your Sigma Chi BF.
Enter the Suburban. Plenty of room. Plenty of width for those uncomfortable rides/drop offs by the Shaw Theater. Plus, it says “friend zone” if you’re caught. Plenty of mass for the implicit “I will run your ass down in a heartbeat if you speak of this night at the Lounge.”
Lighten up, Dad.
Where I saw one: High school parking lot
Nostalgia factor: 6/10 – Ahh, memories – mostly not mine.
Baseline: 2, since I never personally owned one; +1 because Dad had one; +1 because it had 4 wheel drive; +1 because it had a V8; -1 because it didn’t have a 440; -12 (includes -2 for no column shifter) because it had a manual – this meant a tractor transmission, and a 3 foot gear shifter; -7 because as far as I could tell, it shifted like a tractor too – as smooth and serene as Ned Beatty in the woods; -1 because I never drove it; -5 because Dad refused to take the roof off; -1 because “It might leak when you put it back on” is lame; -1 because “where would we store the roof?”; -10 because “duh, you just built that huge garage you never park in.”
We like Zagato. As design houses go, they’re the most consistent. This is a plus, because they’re just so darn elegant you want to never let go of that style language. Usually.
But, much like coaching searches, the results are not always hits.
Enter the Saab Sonnet.
Zagato: Let’s take my Dad’s Saab to JC Whitney and make it cool!
Zagato: We’ll call it an Alfa Romeo! No one will know!
My eyes! The ugly is burning my eyes!
In Car and Driver, John Phillips wonders how Maserati survived itself to last for 100 years. What we wonder is what price FIAT got for selling its soul. We’ll make this easy:
One of these will get you to work reliably, Mr. new partner. (So you can bill, because live to work. Colors? WGAF, because no one, including you, will ever see it in the daylight.)
The other will get you laid just by flashing the keys. (When it breaks down, you can
shag picnic on the hood.)
Your choice. Classic, or new.
Subie, Subie, Subie do you care?
RARE Subaru 360 from the KOOL show in Glendale.
Example one: barn-found 1969.
“Super Cobra Jet” does not get you a functional hood scoop.
As a heterosexual man, I love a nice plump ass. As a car guy, i like Ferrari. As someone who came of age during the “malaise era” of cars, I despise fake ornamentation – tape stripes, fake scoops, pointless, drag-creating spoilers.
So what the fuck, Ferrari?
Dat Ass? Unnecessarily HUGE.
The trunklid? Too huge, hiding overly complicated mechanicals.
The real bitch? The fake ass taillights. Do you think they’re brake lights? EEEEERRRRR They’re not. Those are in the bumper, next to the side marker/reflectors. (There are separate rear reflectors in the fake diffuser.)
Ferrari Geniuses: But what if someone needs to see the brake lights while the roof is in motion and the decklid raised.
The rest of the world: You have 3D taillights that could be visible from space. Use them, why doncha’?
I am not just the owner, I am a customer – this is a great lens that i have been shooting for about a year.
And for you Nikon peeps, i didn’t forget you. Here is a different deal:
Rent early; rent often.