Sensible Shoes

I think of myself a reasonably intelligent man, and could lately even be considered somewhat mature. I eat right and exercise regularly. I use jack stands when climbing under my car. I put my dishes in the dishwasher. I brush and floss. I perform my job with the minimum acceptable level of whining. I represent the ideal life insurance candidate. And yet, I still desperately want a Meyers Manx dune buggy. A car that any rational, logical person would immediately recognize as uncomfortable, impractical, and even a little dangerous. Especially with a 300 HP Subaru boxer hanging out the back.

And my egocentrism is not limited to hand built dune buggies. There are some quite silly cars available at your local new car dealership. The 911 GT3RS, Challenger Hellcat or even an F150 Raptor are completely unnecessary and impractical. They are stupid symbols of immaturity and narcissism. Regardless, they each come with factory warranties, free roadside assistance, all scheduled maintenance, and even a free set of floor mats if you take it home today.

And it has always been this way.  Back when I was a kid there was a guy in high school who drove a black Turbo Trans Am. You know, the one with a gold flaming chicken on the hood and three “turbo-charge” lights in the hood scoop. It was the coolest thing I had ever seen. Of course, I was thirteen years old. To thirteen-year-old boys, Trans Ams, Hellcats, and Raptors make perfect sense. They tend to be noisy and are usually painted in bright, primary colors.  But to the rest of us, mature adults with mortgages and health insurance, any car with less than four doors is simply ridiculous. We swoon over reliable cars that get good gas mileage. I can’t tell you how many times I have been offered a beer due to my sensible plug-in hybrid crossover’s palpable reduction of greenhouse gasses.

Not really. For one thing, I don't have a plug-in hybrid anything.  In addition, no man has ever offered another man a beer because of his sensible anything. The words “I love your beard and crocks, man, have a micro-brew on me” have never been uttered in that order. Indiana Jones was not a good archaeologist because he could spend countless hours researching ancient texts. The greatest spy in the world, despite the fact that everybody knows his identity, is James Bond. And nobody cares about the gas mileage ratings of monster trucks. Sensible and logical belong in things like space capsules or food safety. But they have no place in interesting cars.

The point is the people who want silly cars can’t possibly pay for them. And the people established enough to pay for silly cars don’t want one. But that must also be a lie because Manx dune buggies definitely exist. So do Cobra replicas, Trans Ams, Hellcat Challengers, and even F150 Raptors. Taken as a business proposition, interesting cars are always going to fail.  Ford sells more F150’s in a couple of hours than the total 50-year production of every Manx dune buggy.  And even though manufacturers of silly cars come and go, enough of them stick around to prove we are not all rational, logical human beings. Thank Goodness.