I must be getting old.

2011 Subaru Legacy 2.5i

2000 Audi A4 1.8t Quattro

1991 Eagle Talon TSI AWD

I drove a 2011 Subaru Legacy yesterday. It was a charcoal colored, 6 speed manual equipped number with no particular go-fast parts. No turbo. No 9,000 rpm red line. Nope, this was just a base model Subaru. And I loved it.

Of the cars I've owned over the years, most of the truly lovely ones were both turbocharged and all wheel drive. My 1991 Eagle Talon TSI AWD was largely stock and still a blast on the open road. The Audi is completely stock, even with an automatic, and has me cackling lately while carving the B-roads of North King County. Uncle Chris' 2002 Subaru WRX was one of the greatest all around performers that I've ever driven. And each of these cars shares the benefit of both forced induction and a transfer case.

But the 2011 Legacy, with it's natural aspiration, has proven to me without question that AWD on its own may be sufficient for motoring hijinks. The 6 speed manual transmission has well placed gears and a smart shifter with smooth and precise gear throws. The brakes are both responsive and forgiving. There's more than enough space inside for my bulbous self along with other grown humans. And to top it all off, the car can be miserly with petrol. Okay, on that last one I'll admit to my British automotive influences. Still, you'd have a hard time finding more car for even twice the asking price of under $20,000.

It seems that I'm now ranting about not needing V8 engines in Cadillacs or Turbochargers on 4 cylinders. How long until I start shaking my feeble fist at those damned kids listening to their loud rap music? Hopefully I don't forget to wear pants anytime soon.

The Joy of Pizza Delivery.

No, I'm not 18. No, I don't have a salt-water fish tank nor do I live in my parents' basement, but still I deliver pizza for a second job. And I love it.

Some people view driving as a chore; something that must be done to accomplish a goal. I view driving as the goal, I'm always at least slightly let down when I have to get out of the car at the end of the journey. To me, cars represent adventure and freedom. Driving is more pleasurable to me than is watching television, playing sports, or reading a good book.

The problem with driving for pleasure in today's world is the high expense of fuel, but rest assured that I've found the solution: get paid to drive. I already have a job that pays me, albeit only sometimes, to deliver cars. This generates another problem, in that driving is certainly fun, but when driving another person's car, there is an unspoken rule that things like speeding or power sliding are to be avoided. Naturally, the solution lies in my second job; the aforementioned pizza delivery.

My pizza delivery route allows me to push the limits of Gretchen, my lovely little German sedan. Sure, I obey the letter of the law, especially if this is being read by any member of the law enforcement community, but I've been told that there are back roads in the greater Snoqualmie Valley (Washington State) that act like a roller coaster when driven at a full 10/10ths. And here is the key; when driven to her full potential, Gretchen becomes a pure guided missile, and I get paid to push her to her limits.

Yep, I'd deliver for free if they kept my tank full. Which is what happens now, and then some. I'm pretty sure this is what retirement feels like.

If You Can Afford a Bugati, You Probably Don't Care About 8 MPG

If You Can Afford a Bugati, You Probably Don't Care About 8 MPG

RELEVANT Magazine - God. Life. Progressive Culture.

Here's a list of the biggest gas guzzlers ...

 

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Life with a German.

Her name is Gretchen, and she's my little 1.8t AWD A4. And though she's very distinguished, Gretchen has not captured my heart.

I look for a car that loves to get down and dirty. Even if the car is elegant and sophisticated in the parking lot or right lane of the local freeway, to earn my love, it always needs to be capable of slapping me across the face and biting my ear. Scarlet went so far a few times as to pull a knife and demand my wallet. I swooned. Gretchen, though, is far too up class for anything untoward. Gretchen may be beautiful and easy to live with, but she knows it and gets a little steamed when I try anything in public. Gretchen is very staid and polite where Scarlet was off her medication. Gretchen, sadly, may need to go.

What do you guys think? I really want a roomier Jeep (YJ or TJ) with a 4.0 liter and very little lift, but I'm open for suggestions. Just remember that if she's a lady in public AND in private, I'm not interested. I want scars when I'm finished.

Boats are better.

I hear Greg's argument that his choice is superior because his girlfriend has a matching one. I believe, though, that I drew a connection between the moped and purse already. Girls don't own boats, they ride in them. Girls own mopeds.

Andrew asserts that I'll be riding alone in my boat. This is a possible scenario, I'll admit. But look at who Masters entices with his toy: Old Guys. Yes, Masters will have many people approach him when he's out riding, but all of them will have penises. Boats attract women. Motorcycles attract dudes.

I win.

Wildfire

Oh the truth is finally revealed! I am so uncontrollably jealous of Greg's metrosexual weedeater that I can hardly stand it. The thought of having 70cc of pure power at the flick of my limp wrist is too much for my mortal mind to comprehend. Why God, did I spend the exact same amount of money for those extra 680cc?!?! SURELY! I will perish when I tuck into that turn at 110 and slide into a tree or an elderly woman in a Honda Fit. I must sell my suicide trap immediately and purchase something that could be mowed down unseen by a chump with a lifted truck that has never seen mud or a trail.

Alright sarcasm aside Greg's is jealous because his she-ped cannot go fast enough to kill him if he were to run it down a hill and into a tree. My bike on the other hand is the little brother of one of the original superbikes of the late 70's, the KZ1000. With that kind of pedigree pushing those tires down the road I'll be blissfully unaware that I have just hit a large stationary object and died. My remains will be scooped into a five gallon bucket and displayed for all to see and say "Dang, Masters went out in a blaze of glory and skidded up to the pearly gates in style, with a thousand scratches and not one unbroken bone."

What I Have That They Don't

Read the first 2 posts to this series, Matt's "Why a boat is better than what these *@&%! bought" and Masters' "Rebuttal"



My toy is this beautiful 1980 Honda Express Moped.

Here is the plain and honest truth with the situation, both "Big Cranium" Matthew, and "Mid-Life Crisis" Masters are jealous of both me and my summer toy. It's not because of what my toy is, but rather what I get to do with it.


The fact is this that, Matt got a boat that doesn't work, and Masters will surly die on his bike. 


The thing that separates me from them is that I have a girlfriend, and she's smokin', and check this out, she has a moped too!


That means while Matt is spending the entire rest of the summer, and the rest of his bank account no doubt, trying to fix his stupid purchase, and Masters is risking his life every second he sits on his. I am out enjoying the sun with a beautiful girl. 


So I ask you, who has the best summer toy?

Rebuttal

What Matt means by thinly veiled blah blah blah is that I bought a 1982 Kawasaki KZ750. It an olive-brown color and screams freedom and Amurrica! as it buzzes down the open road.


It may have been assembled in Japan but this little rocket is American through and through. The jealousy that fills Matt's soul every time he looks at my hot little number is beginning to boil over. He thinks that his semi-bouyant and immobile money pit (boat) is vastly superior as a summer toy.


He has one solid point that his vehicle can indeed hold more people but i swiftly reminded him that he has no friends and thus will be riding lonely and lopsided in his boat, the lopsidedness is an due to the effect of gravity on his massive cranium.


With all that said we need to bring this contest to the people. So lets hear your opinion on the matter, what is better a motorcycle that oozes gnarly or Matt's little dingy?

Why a boat is better than what these *@&%! bought.

I just bought a boat. Master's bought a thinly veiled mid-life crisis and Greg bought something to match his purse. I win. Boats are manly, communal, and fun. My girly roommates bought buzz traps that will invariably be run over by a large truck. Again, I win.

Boats are the best summer toy.