The Back of Tuor's Head

I'm getting a second car. Well not really getting so much as putting back on the road. It's a '68 Pontiac Tempest.

Old cars are more fun to drive. It seems that everyone drives around in a 97-2003 amorphous blob. Sure, every once in a while you see a huge "Christmas Tree" on the back of someone's car, often suspecting it was half the value of the vehicle, or a bunch of other things stuck on to it and a set of shiny wheels. Even those seem to all look the same so you're not sure what brand the car really is. (Unless it's in gigantic letters on the front or back windscreen.)

An old car is much more unique. You can get cars from dozens of eras with styling you won't find anymore. Sure they lack the 401 automatic gadgets that new cars have... but hey–that's less to go wrong. If you're serious, you can even have disc brakes and such fit onto most older cars.

Something else is that they are usually gigantic. Some people don't like that, but I have to say, in the defense of these larger cars, that they usually get better mileage then that SUV most people want and are probably safer in an accident.

Not that I don't like my new car either. My Outback is fun to drive, and much better at navigating around in the winter. But I loose it in parking lots all the time, and there are buttons all over the place in it. I guess it's just nice to have a choice.

That's it, really, a choice. Sometimes I can be different, and sometimes I can blend in.