Some of these stories are so inspiring! I'm afraid that in my life with any of
my three different spits, I really don't have any truly impressive stories of
snow and pain and suffering. (Well, maybe except for poor Mr.
Lucky-who-wasn't...but I can even laugh about him now. At the time, it was
heart wrenching because I knew I'd only be happy with a Spitfire and didn't
have the funds to restor him or to get a better one. I was afraid he would turn
out to be my last Spitfire!)
Of course, that dodgy throttle cable certainly is a great way to meet guys!
Every so often, the little end slips out of the nut and guys are so impressed
that I can jump out of the car, throw open the bonnet and "fix" it in the time
it takes for a traffic light to change.
When I drive the Sentra, I feel like a cheat. I feel like a cheat in my quiet
(inside and out), soft, "reliable" cocoon. I feel like a cheat when I get out
of the car after driving for more than two hours and I don;t have back pain.
And I feel like a cheat when I pull into the driveway under "Starman's" own
power and not on the back of the tow truck (though I've called AAA 4 or 5 times
in 4 years of ownership of that one.)
Guys, guys! (And girls!)-These are *sports*cars and so by definition are
supposed to be noisy, uncomfortable, and to some degree, unreliable (though
Fred is spot on in saying that they are reliable when maintained and serviced
properly.) It's *sport*! It's exhileration and a sense of accomplishment! It's
perma-grin at 25mph going to the grocery store! The joy of spending 4 hours
polishing! If I could afford a second car-it would be a Spitfire! (Or a Jag
XJ-S convertible-late model of course. 6 Cyl.)
The pain only makes the joy all the more wonderful!
Laura G.-and Nigel
(And no, a four door sedan is NOT a "sports-sedan" just because it's got a
manual tranny and sticker shock!)
Vita brevis est: rapide agite, vigore strigate!
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