The Great White Hope

February 15, 2006

I have been cruising around in my new little Mercedes Benz toy.  It is a really cute small roadster with a hard top that folds down in about 15 seconds and its ride is smooth and comfortable.  It is so different from my Porsche Boxter S which had a very sporting ride (read your ass is basically on the pavement), a soft top and handled like a sport car.  The Benz is smooth as silk with decent acceleration and gets much better gas mileage.   It even cost somewhat less.  It is time to admit to myself that I have a car Jones.  Most of my personal cars have been convertibles.  I had a couple of Mustangs, a couple of VW convertibles in the late 70’s and early 80’s, a fantastic old Mercury Cougar that has its own story to tell, an early Infinity, a Slob (Saab) and more to come I hope.  The new car is always the great white hope.  I know it will be my last car and the best one that I have ever had.  Then the disillusionment sets in and something is not right.  The only car I ever wanted to keep more than a couple of years was the mid 80’s muscle Mustang, bright red, high horsepower and very HOT.  It was sweet.  It was a leased car and my partner Albert told me I had to turn it in when the lease was up. 

Yesterday, I had to go to Oakland for a meeting at the college.  The weather was warm and the top does go down.  I could hardly wait.  I sailed over the Bay Bridge to my meeting and all systems were go.  I find that I am not so interested anymore in how fast I go even if the car will go pretty fast.  I can just see the Highway Patrol looking at this great new car and salivating at the chance to make a speeding stop.  I am not interested in taking those guys on anymore. They have way too much power for me.  Still on the bridge going either direction, the views are even more special with the top down and music playing.  I’m crusin’. 

When I was a kid in Lima, Ohio, cars were not readily available to my brother and me and I used the one family car.  I do remember my brother Bob calling in one night from some lover’s lane telling Dad that the car was stuck and he had to be rescued and towed out.  What an embarrassing moment for him.  So, for me, I said that when I grew up I was going to have any car I wanted.  I am slightly uncomfortable that I like cars so much; I even like and own a Ford truck, which is a blast to drive - my Ford 150 Four Door super machine.  I have also owned many sedans, SUVs and even a Morris Minor when I was in college.  I still miss the 1952 Chevy Two Door that drank oil like a true drunk drinks whiskey.  I hope I never get over this reasonable fetish.