Thursday, July 18, 2013

It runs in the blood.

Back before most of you out there in internetlandia were born, before i was hatched as well, My father tooled around in a "Babe Magnet". A 1972 Corvette Coupe to be exact.
A few words have been exchanged over this car, as it was a very storied family car that my birth sort of crapped on and i only got to ride in it while i was still unborn.

Stories of my older brother playing in the footwell of the passenger side while my folks made the drive up to Watkins Glen to watch racing and drink beer. A tale of a dodged speeding ticket when my Dad managed to ditch a cop by pulling into a used car lot. And a pair of lines etched into the road in front of my childhood home that are just as indelibly etched into my heart.

There is something about a muscle car, or dare i say Super Car while talking about the Corvette that sums up the history and glory of this country. Something in the growl of the engine that speaks of untold miles of travel of our forefathers. Something about the feel of a hard corner that speaks to the technology that has grown up around these magnificent pieces of rolling art. It's just something about a Corvette that makes me smile and if you have a minute, i'll rattle it off for you.

Nobody, but nobody does with cars what America has done.
We have done the wacky, safe, fast, smart, efficient and then we spent a little more time on fast.
Oh yea, and we do it better and for less than any other mamerjammer on this spinnin' blue ball.

But, if you remember, i had a point when this all started.

So my Dad is looking into buying himself a brand spanking new Corvette. This in itself is nothing new. He has talked about that for years. But as of late, i am hearing more and more about it. It's gotten to the point that my mother and he have come to loggerheads. You see, she wants a 1972 Corvette like they had when they first got married. But my father has an issue with used cars. I explain it thusly. When my father was a child, a used car touched him in his no no zone. Since then he has had not one kind word to say about a pre-loved automobile. So he wants a brand spanking new machine.

I can understand both points of view.

A 1972 vette is a sexy vintage muscle car.
A 2014 vette is a sexy modern super car.

Needless to say, with summer here and the heat making us dream of automobiles and racetracks. This is one of my favorite problems. It's not life threatening, can be rationally debated till the cows come home. And it gets me into a conversation with an Engineer and an Artist over the pros and cons.

At the end of the day, with all sides putting in their two cents i still suggest. They just pick up a new MX-5 and leave it at that. What can i say, I'm a jackass.

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