With gas prices being as they are the sound of a bubbling V-8 engine makes me a very bitter young man. One year ago I was forced to call it quits on my 1979 Jeep Cherokee and its hot rod 360. Ever since my life has been two cylinders short of adequate.
I miss the cam lope from my male enhancing SUV, the way it drowned out the order of the guy in front of me at drive through windows. I miss the smell of unburned fuel that filled the cab with a euphoric freedom when I dropped it into second and mashed the shoebox-sized accelerator to the floor.
It’s gone now. The roar of its mighty AMC power plant is nothing more than a fading memory as the V6 of my 1991 Dodge Dynasty meanders into its place. It makes an adolescent groan when I try to pass cars on the highway, like it’s trying to drop another two cylinders. It’s emasculating, or as they call it these days, “economical.”
What kind of world is this where a god-fearing middle class American is expected to putter about with less than 250 ponies under the hood, since when was ample power adequate? For the average Joe this is our grim reality: Orgasmically overpowered and oversized automobiles are dying a dinosaur’s death as rodent like compacts scuttle their way up the food chain. At this rate it won’t be long until feather footed Prius owners run low RPM quarter miles to see who can rack up the best gas mileage.
Thank the car gods for this site. If anything has the potential to save the auto industry from collapsing under its own weight it’s a group of people who understand that driving a car is supposed to be fun before it’s affordable.