SIZE MATTERS

I FEEL THE NEED, THE NEED FOR SPEED

All things being equal, (and nothing ever is) I have reached in life where being non-judgmental is an everyday exercise.  I pinch myself every time I stumble over a moment requiring an evaluation of my principles or morals.   Dare I – dare I not?  Should I - shouldn’t I?  Could I, couldn’t I?   Will I – will I not?  

Oh but its so tempting.

This is all about acquiring a suitable ride – in this case – a car .  

The purchasing logic dictated by advertising gurus now come into play.  Performance versus style, style versus price.   My poor man’s gut tells me “its only a vehicle that takes me from A to B”.  My illogical stylish head tells me “200 mph in 6 seconds, it’s got my name on it”. 

Whatever the logic, I judge these four-wheeled motors as if they were my legs.  They belong to me, the equivalent to the shoes that I wear.  Nobody should fit into them, anyone can try to put them on, dare to change mirrors, seat levers and they’re banned for life.   I know when someone else has driven my car – the engine speaks differently and I have to cajole it back to my way of driving. 

I like to look at a car as if I was judging the potential of a date.  It has to  be “eye-candy’.   It has to perform.  It has to start every time, in whatever weather.   It needs zero looking after except the occasional engine service.   Neat and tidy it has to have the ability to “house” my shoes and paraphernalia.   Self cleaning is problematical so it’s my pleasure to get down and dirty, splash sudsy soap, hose down and wax it, , all the while appropriately wearing a color coordinated bikini on a hot scorching day.

So, should I splash out on something sexy, outrageously expensive, stylish and workable, cheap and cheerful or something that out performs every one  that nobody’s ever heard of?  

JAGUAR - Just A Guess U Are Rich

A quaint Englishman of a certain age would never drive anything else.  Speaks volumes of class, style, old money, and yet not flashy.  My Bank Balance doesn’t quite match the price tag and the roads I plan to drive on, tend to have holes, and floods.  But it does have that vintage feel – like an Englishman in a double-breasted blazer, smelling of Old Spice, perhaps an Etonian alumnai.  Ageing with it would be quite charming. 

Mercedes 

Most Expensive Road Car Everyone 

Drives Except Some

Everyone who has made it, seem to want it in their garage.  German precision performs meticulously.  Crisp and effective, it does achieve reliability matching no other.   German engineers occupy a high pedestal in a country that prizes technology and craftsmanship.   Like their men, they are strict, exacting, exhausting and disciplined – romanticism not reflected in their persona. 

Ferrari  

Fabulously Egocentric, Ridiculously Rich, 

Awfully Redundant Italians.

All males who drive this beautifully sculptured vehicle  display their sexuality in the only way they know how – physically roaring the engine mirrors the pelvis thrust.  The showing of their prowess, it is merely an extension of their penis.   The redder the color, the hotter they are; the longer the frontage, the more promise of heaven, the noisy roar of the engine; the deafening the bang.   Deliciously worth a ride,  but impractical to own.

 And now we have to give way to the Land of the Rising Sun:

TOYOTA   

The One You Only Trust Always

My affair with Toyota cars has been long and faithful.  It started out with the white Celica, then the red Tercel,  the gold Vios Soluna, the Black Vios Soluna, and the red Solara ending with the dark black menacing Fortuner.   They have all performed splendidly, never failing in their duty.  Flashy they are not.  Sexy they are not.  Not to forget Honda, Nissan, and the beautiful Lexus, Nippon’s are known to value civility, harmony, conformity integrity, persistence and industriousness.   All very reliable virtues that one should find in a man, is transported to a car.  Japan has much to offer, Sushi, Mikimoto pearls, Tempura, Sake, Sumo wrestling,  Judo, with an infinite and impressive list.  A male driven society, they think not to pander to their women. Unfortunately the art of flirtatious dance is all but forgotten in the march to economically succeed.

 Volvo    

Very Old Looking Vehicle Objects

Once owned a Volvo, built to last a century.   With 200,000 miles on the clock it still performs, even after many crashes, the chassis is still intact.  Like Vikings, brute strength, cave man like behavior, sums it up. 

Range Rover       

Royal and Noble Gentleman’s Engine  Rides Over Virtually Every Road

The British Royals love it. Seen at country house events, or even deer hunting or grouse shoots.   Top of the line, it smacks of English country squires, product placement in most James Bond movies.  Rugged but shaven, shaken not stirred, the Daniel Craig performance yields permanence in my garage.

Oldsmobile   

Overpriced, Leisurely Driven Sedan Made Of Buick's

                Irregular Leftover Equipment

Everything in America is big.  Size on that continent in everything matters.  The bigger the man, the bulkier his car.  The larger his house, the vastness of his bed.   I could go on but perhaps painting the imagination is always more exciting than reality. This acronym for the Oldsmobile does say it all.   Driving on the I90, a huge clunky sedan  can be a great  buffer against other cars whizzing down the eight lane freeway that stretches beyond infinity.  

Lets just try to fix my garage the way I like it.   Monday to Thursday the ever efficient Toyota.  Friday, date night with the mean Ferrari that roars and promises to deliver.  Saturday Mr. Jaquar comes out for a picnic in Hyde Park and my Range Rover is reserved for Ascot.  

And I leave the Oldsmobile as a rental when the I90 stretches beyond the horizon.  Indulging in size when Europe and Asia leaves me unsatisfied.