Tuesday, September 04, 2007

WHY DO I WANT THIS?

Damned if I know. While waiting for the truck to be repaired last week, this Chrysler Crossfire popped out of nowhere and said, "Buy me!".

I've long admired the Crossfire. Nice. Sleek. Looks like it could zip around California coastal Highway One. But the sticker? 40k MSRP. Those dollars could buy a slightly used Corvette or nearly purchase a new Porsche Cayman.

So I get a sports car: Then what? Sometimes I think that half the fun is getting there. When you get "there" the feeling is often, "Is that all there is?".

When I was younger I dated more than a few good looking women. Like yearning for a sports car, I would often pursue a woman because I thought . . . well, let's just say . . because I thought and leave it at that.

Once "netted" these ladies were often another case of all that glitters is not necessarily gold. High maintenance. Spoiled. No regard for hard earned cash. Constant whining. I'd find myself muttering to myself, "Why did I want this?!"

Sports cars can be like women: High maintenance. Spoiled and in need of constant pampering. Takes a lot of money to keep it on the road. Constant whining from the engine.

Sports cars and some women are definitely not worth the time and the expense.

I married a good looking, sports car kind of lady. Red hair. Long chassis. Top down she's a knockout. Reliable, loyal - starts quickly on cold mornings. Hits the gym at least 4 times a week to keep that engine strong. Great warranty. Together, we'll go the distance.

Okay, okay, so much for my chauvinist pig moment. Remember, this is Bob doing the writing here.

So the Chrysler Crossfire? Nice car, would be fun, but no thanks. I'll put any thought of buying a sports car aside . . . at least for now. As the wife always says, "Always leave room for the unexpected." And I will.



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4 comments:

Max said...

I liked the Crossfire first time I saw it a few years back, and it still looks nice. Then I fawned over the Pontiac Solstice. Recently I moved on to the Saturn Sky, which has just started sales as the Daewoo G2X (GM bought Daewoo after the financial crisis of the late 90's). But Una's dead sold on a convertible Corvette. Only problem is that tax you get hit with in brining a car over here is pretty damn high. Parts and service would be a nuisance too. I'm sure GM-Daewoo could order them, but there's the cost and the wait.

Anyway, Dad, get a Corvette. I want to borrow it. :D

Bob said...

Corvettes have been on my mind since age 16. I had the money for a new one, old dad put his foot down and that was it: No Corvette. Well Max, you probably would not be here had old dad let me buy that car for back in the day your dad was hell bent for leather, damn the torpedoes, full steam ahead. Today, give me a 40 of malt liquor and a fast car - there's no telling what you'll get.

DraMa said...

Memphis: I've been in L.A. for three months now. I have money, I have taste. But I'm not on anybody's "A" list, and Saturday night is the loneliest night for the week for me.

Roger the Car Salesman: Well, a Ferrari would certainly change that.

Memphis: Perhaps, Mmmm. But, you know, this is the one. Yes, yes yes... I saw three of these parked outside the local Starbucks this morning, which tells me only one thing. There's too many self-Indulgent wieners in this city with too much bloody money! Now, if I was driving a 1967 275 GTB four-cam...

Roger the Car Salesman: You would not be a self-indulgent wiener, sir... You'd be a connoisseur.

Memphis: Precisely. Champagne would fall from the heavens. Doors would open. Velvet ropes would part.

**One of my favorite exchanges from one of my favorite movies. Gone in 60 Seconds.

In other words... go for the gold, not the cheap new shit. Get an "Eleanor". Then you won't be dealing with just a high-maintenance airhead. You'll be dealing with a high-maintenance oh-so-worth-it beauty that will always return the love.

Bob said...

Drama: The problem with buying and Eleanor is whether or not I'd live the month out. I'm that kind of fool when it comes to fast cars. Maybe they come with training wheels . . .

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