With children 9 & 5, one of the things I miss about the child-free days is the two-seater convertible sports car. The wind in my hair, the open sky above me, and the music of the engine and the tires to loosen the stresses of the day. And yes, I was once of the loser chicks who (one time only) dated a guy SOLELY to drive his car.
I would love to drive one now, but my current responsibilities make it almost impossible to have one. So while out Holiday shopping today, the Hub pulled into a new car lot so I could lust after a black cherry 370Z Roadster. But as I walked up to this beauty, it had an awful glaring flaw: an automatic transmission.
These are cars for 1) enjoying the road 2) in full and total control of the vehicle. This is part of why there is no backseat. Children typically go into a backseat, and those of you with children know full well that children prohibit the enjoyment of anything that isn’t their idea.
But this wasn’t the only Z on the lot with a slushbox. The Z should not be for those who don’t understand the FULL AND TOTAL CONTROL part. The point of these cars is to attack the daily commute, to wind the day’s stress into the pavement, to fly by members of the Anti-Destination League (people who have no place better to be, an infinite amount of time in which to arrive there, and a complete lack of understanding that most others are not in a similar position), to make transport from point Job back home as exhilarating and exciting as possible without harming innocent bystanders or your insurance rates. (The Anti-Destination League idea was borrowed from Dustbury.)
This also defines what NOT the point of these cars. These are not cars for talking on your cell phone while driving, hands-free or otherwise, which detracts mightily from the enjoyment of the road. These are not cars for members of the aforementioned Anti-Destination League. These are not cars for going to Wal-Mart and buying presents for your grandchildren, hence the lack of backseat and trunk space. These are not cars for automatic transmissions, you determine when to shift and when not to, you don’t leave this decision for the car. Make that downshift to blow by that turtle who’s been blocking you for the last half-mile.
Here come Boomer grannies, the obvious targets of these aesthetic mistakes, to complain:
1) ”I never learned to drive a shift-stick.”
Whose fault is that? It’s time to expand your horizons, learn something new, two-thirds of your life is behind you so make that last third something exciting! After all, you’re not coming back for another round.
2) ”I can’t talk on the phone AND shift at the same time.”
GET OFF THE DAMN PHONE!!!!! You could kill someone in a Datsun B210 if you go around with that gadget crammed upside of your head. Besides there’s nothing your empty-headed Social Security-robbing friends have to say that sounds better than tires on pavement.
3) ”I don’t want to drive like a man.”
Then stick to the minivans instead of buying one of these miniature metrosexual modern versions of the old-time muscle car. Or maybe the Lincoln Town Car, a favorite of the blue-haired set since 1981.
I wonder if the Z Roadster will come in CNG for the 2024 model year.