Ooops, I did it again.

I truly cannot help myself. It turns I am not only a petrosexual, but I'm apparently the sort who engages in the automotive equivalent of going to bath houses and collecting Judy Garland memorabilia. In my own defense, I'll just explain (rationalize?) that my current ride was getting lonely and, as such, it needed a baby sister to play with.

So I went out and bought one. Yes, it was an impulse purchase, albeit a good, noble one. I was listening to Car Talk on NPR--one of the very few things on NPR* which usually has no effect on my blood pressure--and some poor woman in Cambridge called asking advice on what sort of car to get, if any. Her husband had forbidden her to buy one because, as she explained, "He's an environmentalist, and he thinks cars are, y'know...evil."** She wasn't crazy about the notion of driving***, but she was a med student who had to do rotations in--as is inevitable in med school rotations--Very Bad Neighborhoods and the idea of taking the T or waiting for a cab in a Very Bad Neighborhood at 2am in a blizzard in January held (go figure!) minimal appeal for her.

Anyway, the fact there are slavering idiots like this med student's husband had me weakened, so that when I saw this car, I was ripe. Then I saw the absolutely larcenous price and I caved like Nick Nolte at happy hour. This is the perfect car to counter everything this cretin holds true. This is a car meant to be driven for impractical reasons. It is a frivolous car. Beautiful, sure. Fast? Undoubtedly. Rare...certainly. Possibly collectible, too. But it is, above all else, a mechanism for turning scarce natural resources into smiles. The fact it accidentally gets decent mileage just means I can go fast for a longer period.

I'm going to go up to Philadelphia, even though Poppy's husband swears it is the most bottlenecked airport anywhere--it can't be helped, and pick up this beauty, making sure that self-righteous microcephalics and enuretics take a good look at me.

Here it is. Take that, Mr. Environmentalist Fringe Whackjob Oppressive Husband.


-Joke

* I figure I might as well listen to something on NPR, seeing as how the police power of the state is used to confiscate my money in order to keep things like NPR on the public teat, that I might as well get some useful benefit for my money.
** EarthFirst! vs. Emily's List, next on the Ultimate Fighting Championship...
*** These people are more to be pitied than censured. I know several and they are pretty much sterling folk. So sterling, in fact, one eagerly overlooks treasonous, aberrant notions such as "I just need something to get me from here to there." or >shudder!< "I just need room for the kids' soccer team." They don't mean to say these things, they just can't help it.

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