I have this reoccurring dream where Richard Branson, the Virgin records guy, wants to buy my dream car. For me. Any car I want, he will write the check. I know all about the failing record industry, the rocky airline business, and the unsuccessful attempt to replace Coke, but remember this is just a dream.
“Any car I want?” I am looking for loopholes, expecting him to back out at any minute. He assures me any car I want. So I quickly ask for a flying Delorean time machine. He patiently explains to me it has to be a real car. Not a fictional movie prop. No Luke Skywalker land speeder, no batmobile, no Lotus Esprits that become submarines. They are movie props. I can have the props, but they are not real time machines, or submarines, or able float just above the ground. I guess he would know. However, the black Trans-Am from “Smokey and the Bandit," or the red Ferrari 250 from “Ferris Bueller” would be fine, because they are just cars. They do not, for instance, make me a show-off or give me the best day of my life, respectfully. I ignore the last statement, I am not an idiot.
So, no fictional cars. Seems a little specific for a dream. Anyway without the time machine, I don't want any other mythical car. The submarine is neat, but it is just a Lotus that works underwater. Of course that car is fictitious, everybody knows a Lotus barley works on a perfectly dry day.
If somebody else is paying for it, why not get something you could never, ever buy yourself. A Bugatti Royale, or a Daimler drophead coupe, or a Dusenburg, or a Cord. Stunning pre-war stuff, hand made by artists, achingly beautiful. And utterly useless. They were built in the infancy of the automobile, and are not what one would consider “practical.” It would take a team of technicians a few hours to get one running. It would require a different team of technicians to show you how to operate it. The controls are not recognizable to modern folk. The gas pedal may be in the middle of three indistinguishable pedals. It might be a lever instead of a pedal. It might not even have any foot controls at all. Even if I was able to get it under way, something like a flat tire would bankrupt me. See, these cars are worth $20 million. Every part was hand made almost 100 years ago. Ford Model T's were mass produced, these cars were not. Machines like this, while among the most beautiful things ever made by man, have become art rather than transportation. They live in museums, dusted daily with real ostrich feathers. So, even if Sir Richard was willing to write the check, I could never actually use any of these cars. And why have a car if it can't be used as a car?
What of a classic European car? Something that Sean Connery could have driven. Names like Lamborghini, Ferrari, Alfa Romeo. Possibly the most attractive machines of the modern age, these cars have the ability to stop people in their tracks. The long hoods, the tiny chrome bumpers, the real wire wheels. They simply don't make them like this any more. While beautiful, they are simply too finicky to be used as cars. Much like the Bugatti or the Daimler, they now reside on four little squares of carpet in a museum. While more reliable than the pre-war stuff, cars like this are still not intended to be driven. Even when new, they were not used as transportation. They were intended to impress, or to intimidate, or to admire. A few drivers actually used the cars as intended, Steve McQueen pops to mind, but the vast majority sat in sterile environments waiting to be putted around the estate grounds by the elderly owner. On those rare occasions when it was actually driven, it was driven with full awareness of its value, and as a result, was driven slowly. What is the point of having an Italian sports car if not to thrash it? Of course it will break, but until it does, it will be thrilling. And when it does detonate spectacularly, one understands the true meaning of disposable income.
There is one car that is very tempting, but is too rare to seriously consider. The Toyota 2000GT. It was actually designed and built by Yamaha, Toyota just paid for it and glued its name onto the hood. Yamaha first went to Nissan in the mid 60's (known as Datsun in the US, of course) and asked if they were interested in the design. Xerox machines were in their infancy at the time, but if you have ever seen a Datsun 240Z, it is obvious Nissan had one the day of the meeting with Yamaha. After Nissan declined, Yamaha just happened to be talking to the guys at Toyota about other projects, and someone mentioned the 2000GT in passing. Toyota, the most conservative car maker in the country, surprisingly agreed to fund the car. Yamaha built a few hundred in a few years, and the car became a piece of history. One reason it quietly died out was the enormous expense required to build. Essentially hand made from exotic materials, the assembly process excluded profitability. It was much more expensive than the Jaguar E-Type, Porsche 911, and Corvette at the time. Toyota wanted a halo model, and got it, but most people still don't know it existed. It was even driven by James Bond in You Only Live Twice. The film never mentioned it was a Toyota, so most people thought it was a Jaguar. The English car maker actually benefited from the appearance of the beautiful Toyota in the Bond movie. While brilliant, the car was just too expensive to be sold in large numbers, so Toyota pulled the plug. No evolution model was planned, and the 2000GT quietly faded into oblivion. As a result of its rarity, it would be difficult to relax about it and enjoy driving it at all. There are not many left, and no more will ever be made. It belongs in a museum with the Ferrari and Daimler now.
So, the dream car thing is getting a little tedious. I love the pretty cars, but they are too rare to drive. While I covet classic Aston Martins massively, they make even the Italian cars seem reliable. Very few Porsches are pretty enough to consider. And, if you did have a Porsche, you would have to talk to other Porsche people. That is something I wish to avoid. The Jaguar E-Type is slightly more pedestrian than a Ferrari, but just as beautiful. As ironic as it seems, the E-Type was genuinely a more reliable and less expensive car than most of the era. While complex in comparison to a Mustang, it was built with some finesse. The big six engine is mechanically sound, if electrically challenged. The chassis is well designed for driving dynamics. A real effort was made to reduce unsprung weight, to maintain balance, and to create a sporting drive while maintaining a GT level of comfort. Its reliability is shocking now, but compared to its rivals at the time, it was actually more dependable, cheaper, and faster than most. A Jaguar has never been perceived as a robust car, but it may be a good choice to have somebody else buy for me. Relieved of the purchase price, my bank account might be able to sustain an E-Type. Besides, it is the most phallic car in history.
The domestics even got a few cars right from time to time, especially in the 1960's. The Mustang GT350, the original Bronco, the GT40 and Cobra. All attractive, mostly useful modes of transportation. Case in point is the Corvette Sting Ray. I must admit a deeply ingrained love of the plastic Chevy. My dad had Corvettes. My first pair of glasses had “Corvette” etched into them. My future mother-in-law was very impressed with my (dad's) car when I arrived to pick up her daughter one evening. To my eye The C2 Corvette from 1963 to 1967 is as beautiful as any European car. Potentially more reliable, certainly more common, the Chevrolet of sports cars may be a reasonable choice, if I don't have to pay for it myself. These days a Corvette of this vintage is out of the reach of the very people it was built for in the first place, but still more banausic than anything else I have considered thus far. It is still a very expensive car, but it would be easier to repair and maintain than a Jag or any Italian car.
Maybe the real concern here is my profile. I don't mean how other people perceive me, or how many friends I have on facebook, whatever that is. What I mean is how you are literally seen by other people. Every car on the road today is huge. Even the Mini is enormous, compared to an original. Everything I have thought of to this point is a sports car. Low, long, wide. Exactly the type of thing that would be flattened in traffic. If I am to use my dream car, I might need to rethink this whole proposition. Operating a valuable car in everyday traffic would be alarming. Your dream car could so easily be reduced to a pile of old metal by somebody's Camry. Beautiful, rare, special sports cars may be too terrifying to actually use. I am not talking about a cool antique espresso machine. You could find the most wonderful old coffee maker and use it with impunity, because nobody else will be making coffee with you, trying to bash your coffee maker to pieces. I might need something tougher than an old sports car.
How about something more, shall we say, substantial. Something that was designed to handle almost anything. The ultimate off road machine. This vehicle was first commissioned by the US Army to replace the aging Jeep. After extensive US Army testing, the project was scrapped. There was another interested party, though. The Lamborghini LM002 is the truck the Saudi Arabian aristocracy wanted. With the Saudi's unlimited budget Lamborghini was able to create a true monster. Countach V12 up front, sumptuous leather interior, all wheel drive, enormous hand made Pirelli off road tires, safari bars, a winch, even a fresh water tap in the back, just in case you get thirsty. There is not a problem with “profile” in this car. While just as rare and valuable as the sports cars above, I don't think anybody would have the nerve to bump into this thing. That lane wondering minivan making contact with you would not produce the sickening sound of ancient European craftsmanship being reduced to recyclables. The Lambo would simply drive over the offending commuterbox unscathed. At first glance, this may be the perfect solution. Until you remember who these übertrucks were built for. The richest group of people on the planet. The group of people, incidentally, that own all the gasoline in the world. So, you think it would be hard to pay for repairs on a rare sports car? Service on a Ferrari or Lamborghini pale in comparison to the fuel bill alone if you chose to operate the LM002. Crank the engine, two gallons gone. Put it in gear, another gallon of gas spent. Back out of the driveway, you are running on fumes. Merge onto the interstate, BP stock soars. It is not hard to find a LM002 in perfect shape. Even though only a few hundred were built, they are all for sale with low miles, garage kept, perfect paint, like new, never driven in rain. Never driven in snow. Never driven on the beach. Never driven. Period.
Another possibility would be a kit car or a reproduction. The idea is that you could build a car out of mundane components, slap a swoopy body onto it, and have something you could enjoy on everyday roads sans anal pucker. Also, building a car yourself would be immensely rewarding. You would have a connection with every component, because you connected every component. Not all kit cars are created equally, so some research would be advisable. If you wanted a car that looked like a Lamborghini or a Ferrari, that is easy. There are kits that are indistinguishable from the real thing, as long as you never drive it. And there is always the sticky question of admitting you have a kit car. There is really only one kit car I would consider. A Lancia Stratos replica. The Lancia Stratos is probably the most attractive car ever made, and I have never even seen one in person. It is a race car made for Gruppe B rallying. Since Gruppe B was supposed to be based on production cars, Lancia had to build and sell a few hundred Stratos road cars to qualify. While theoretically an original could be purchased, it would be so valuable and rare you could never use it as a car. But a reproduction is just a chassis made by some guys in a shed in England, bolted together by your hands, and filled with an engine from a junk yard. While not inexpensive, it would cost no more than a new Toyota, it would be a fraction of the cost of a real Stratos, and it would be a far superior to either car. Cover it in Alitalia livery like the photo above, and you would have a true dream car that would fulfill your very dreams. Until the steering box fails, or the brakes seize, or the windshield wiper falls off. Still, it would be more reliable than a real Stratos.
What I have realized is I wish to use the car Richard Sir Branson is kind enough to buy for me. It is, after all, a car. One does not buy a beautiful house and simply admire it from the street. You live in it. You use it as a house. While some houses (the Biltmore Estate springs to mind) are not residences any more, they could be. For it to become a house somebody simply needs to stay the night. The difference between a really expensive house and a really expensive car is that a house exists on its own, surrounded by trees and lawns. Other houses will not bump into it. Unless there is a really big earthquake. Since an automobile is used in cooperation with other individuals, the potential for catastrophic damage is simply too great to allow some cars to be used at all. These objects have stopped being cars. They are art. Automobiles are not intended to be art. A car is built to be used for transportation. Some of the cars I mention above have undergone a conversion to another duty. They exist in galleries, never used for their intended purpose. Only to be admired.
There are many very neat “normal” cars that are worth considering. Mustangs, Corvettes, BMW M cars, AMG's, Z cars, the list goes on. While it would be neat enough to have any of these cars, I realize it will not work. Richard Branson could get a fleet of cars for me, but without some sense of connection to the cars, who cares. What I like in a car is an intangible sense of “cool.” I like something that not only looks good, but is amusing in some way, is tactfully fulfilling, has some sense of performance, has a story behind it, and that I have an emotional connection with. What I am realizing with this exercise is that I can't feel the “fizz” when a car is so expensive, or rare, or special that it can't be simply driven. Any new sports car should create a great amount of “fizz,” but I am afraid it wouldn't. Maybe what it comes down to is that merely picking out a car is uninteresting to me. The act of purchasing something is not, in and of itself, fulfilling. Even something really neat. If I have not “earned” it in some way, the object seems corrupted somehow. It is fine for other people to own special cars, and I truly enjoy seeing rare, beautiful, or fast cars. I hold no animosity toward people that own these automobiles. After all, somebody has to own them in order for them to exist. For myself, I think I would feel a little silly with a car that is overtly posh, or alacritous, or fashionable. Dream cars are just that, things of dreams.
I must admit that building a car from scratch (the Lancia replica above) would be very desirable. Not because I want a car that I lack the fiscal prowess to buy, but because I enjoy the act of taking seemingly disparate components and creating a harmonious device. I have modified every car I have ever owned, because I enjoy it. I would enjoy having something I created, because I created it.
So, after careful consideration Mr Branson, I would like to respectfully decline. I intend to keep my CR-V forever. I simply love that car. I have maintained it, lived with it, and have made plans for it. I have, in other words, bonded with it. The seats are worn in the shapes of my and Kyra's butts. The back is full of orange dog hair. The stereo is woefully inadequate, the A/C is a little weak, and the paint is quite faded. In other words, it is perfect. Each little flaw gives me the chance to learn a new skill. It gives me that little “fizz” when I drive it, because I have changed things, improved things, and experienced life in it. I have an intimate relationship with every nut and bolt. It holds my bikes, dog, and spouse simultaneously. It takes me places I love. It is paid for, and doesn't make me worry about it. I know it will perform as a car, perfectly. There are certainly faster cars, more luxurious cars, more attractive cars, and cars that inspire more envy than my old Honda. But there is no better car for me than my faded red '98 Honda CR-V.
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