- April 18, 2024
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Let me give you a little advice: You want to be somebody in this town, you got to have a sweet ride.
Take me for instance. People get a load of my wheels, old Green Thunder, and I know what they’re thinking — that I’m one smooth operator. A 1999 Civic with — get this — brand new wipers, this bad boy doesn’t just get me from A to B, we’re talking A to Z! Sitting pretty at 180,000 miles — zero to 60 in four brisk minutes — this sweetheart’s a head-turner, one I fully expect to drive for, at least, another 300,000 miles. Bare minimum.
But I admit, there was a little trouble in paradise last week. Old Green Thunder gave me a scare when her air conditioning died. Would the repair be pricy? Was it maybe time to invest in something newer?
Don’t be silly.
Of course I ponied up the cash. It was a small fix. And besides, you don’t just trash a classic.
The paintjob is custom — the dealer called it “Used-to-be-Green.” See, they start with a shiny primer, the exact shade of hundred dollar bills, then they put it through machines that mimic more than a decade of direct Florida sunshine and salt corrosion until it gets nice and dull.
Not quite rust. Not quite metal. But close.
You know how a fine wine gets better with age? Exact same concept here.
But that’s not the only bell or whistle. Ever heard of automatic locks? Well, my ride has a special feature where only two doors unlock automatically. Which two, you ask? Oh, that’s random! The car’s literally got a mind of its own.
Ever seen Knight Rider? Exact same concept here.
The back driver’s side door, though, that’s the most luxurious feature. I had to pay a little extra, but this door, you can only open by fishing your hand through the front and unlatching from the inside. What’s great about this is how it forces you to decide whether or not you really want to let your friend in to give him that ride you promised.
It’s Honda’s signature Second Chance Feature.
No point hiding it: I’ve got the perfect car, a real chick magnet. It’s got a cockpit, not a driver’s seat. And don’t for a second think it runs on gas; this baby only takes cologne.
I know — I get it — you’re interested in making me an offer. But unfortunately, old Green Thunder’s not for sale. No way, no how. Not in a million years. That’d be like asking Dick Tracy to sell you his fedora.
Ever heard of the Batmobile? Exact same concept here.
BY MIKE CAVALIERE | ASSOCIATE EDITOR
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