Shutting People Up

Thursday, 7:26pm
Reno, NV
“You know how to whistle, don’t you? You just put your lips together… and blow.” Bacall, shutting Bogart up nicely

Howdy…

Hey, what kind of car do you drive?

Is it your dream car?

Do you even care what it looks like, or how it performs?

As a certified Boomer (who won’t shut up talking about Boomer-oriented shit), my heart has been broken by the automotive industry.

These days, I barely care about cars at all. I drive a Ford small SUV, mostly. (It’s actually the same size as the old Dodge vans I craved in my youth, and never owned.) (You know, the vans parked backwards at the drive-in, with the bumper sticker “If this van’s a rockin’, don’t bother knockin’”.)

(Oh, you don’t remember? Well, just take my word for it… vans were a cultural icon, and the VW minibus made a VERY different statement than a Ram B-series “adult toy” van.) (You’ll have to get me drunk to hear the good stories on this topic, of course…)

I treat the Ford like crap. Wash it maybe once a year, use the passenger side floor as a trash can, keep the back seats down and the dog beds in there as permanent furniture.

I actually enjoy driving it. Sunroof, decent stereo, and all that raw Ford 6-banger power.

Woof!

Of course, I’ve only put a few thousand miles on it after three years. (And most of those have come from our trips to the coast.) I work at home, walk everywhere I can, stay barefoot and happy and off the roads.

However…

My knees still buckle at the sight of a cherry ’55 Bel Air, or a ’62 Impala, or those growling muscle cars from the late sixties/early seventies. Reno has something called “Hot August Nights” every summer, and for a week, every bitchin’ automobile in the country (and many from overseas) is cruisin’ Virginia Street and crowding into viewing lots like a nest o’ nostalgia.

Now, I know that regulation saves lives and all that.

Still, I blame Ralph Nader and his do-gooder ilk for the descent into blah-ness that car design has sunk. No more fins, no more death-grin grills, no more suicide doors.

No more fun.

I remember the crucial day, in the early seventies, when someone stopped by to show off her brand-new Mustang.

I was horrified. The interior was a misshapen hulk of cheap plastic, and the lines of the body were breathtakingly dull.

What the hell had they done to that once-bitchin’ car? It’s like they were giving the finger to the Car God.

The GMC Gremlin had more personality. Heck, the infamous Pinto was a better looking design. (And in the late 80s, when the geniuses at Ford finally attempted some kind of retro re-do of the ‘Stang, they botched it totally. There is no soul left in Detroit, I’m sorry, man…)

The closest any automaker came to putting some oomph into design, after that, was Toyota. The 1980 Celica GT Hatchback was easily the ugliest car ever to roll off an assembly line. I gasped when I saw my first one.

Ah, but inside… it was like a super-snug cockpit. You slid into the bucket seat, and the dash embraced you, promising nasty highway fun.

The night I bought one, I drove up and down the central California coast with the ocean breeze coming in tangy and warm, and the amber dash lights lulling me into long dreamy stretches in fifth gear.

I actually lived out of that car for six months. Slept on friends’ couches when I could, but curled up in the back when I had to tuck into a hidey-hole lot somewhere to catch some zzz’s.

It became the infamous rattletrap I had when I began my freelance career. I kept it alive by sheer force of will. Brought a gallon of water down each morning to fill up the radiator, and kept a quart of oil in the backseat (used and replaced weekly).

When I turned her ignition off on that last day, she never roared to life again. I had driven her literally until she dropped, an exhausted, broken-blocked disaster with a date at the wrecking yard.

I teared up as she was towed away.

Still the most beautiful machine I’ve ever had in my life. For a full ten years, she had been my partner in escape, adventure and entrepreneurship.

Toyota broke the mold on that amazing car.

No, they literally broke the mold. They only produced that paticular model, with the in-your-face ugly lines and bizarre grill, for two years, I believe. Then they went boringly into “coupe land” (trying, like everyone else, to emulate the blocky Beemer model 2002).

I learned something about salesmanship through that car, though.

See, every single time someone would see it for the first time (especially after it was a few years old, and one of the few remaining unique designs left on the road)… they would whistle, or roll their eyes, or make some disparaging remark.

Which was fine. Whatever.

But once in a while, I’d insist they get in, and I’d drive them around and tell them stories about advenuters we (the car and I) had enjoyed. I made them sit in the driver’s cockpit, and soak up the amber grin of the dashboard lights. Feel how the stick shift melted into your hand like an extension of your arm.

Then I put them back in the passenger seat, rolled out into the street, and opened ‘er up on a straightaway, nailing their skulls back into the headrest.

I never got anyone to agree with me on how gorgeous that car was. (Beauty, beholder, and all that.)

But I did get almost everyone to understand why she was so much friggin’ fun to drive.

Fast forward a bunch of years.

Michele and I both yearned for some top-down driving. Living in snow country, convertibles were contra-indicated, however.

So we went in together and bought a third car. A “just for fun” car.

A Mazda Miata.

Oh, you’re sputtering, aren’t you?

That little piece of wannabe sports car?

Almost always, people grill me on “why”. They know I could afford a nice high-end sports car. A Porshe, a Beemer, a Mercedes… anything but that cheesy little Miata!

What was I thinking?

And I proceed to shut them up.

Did you know the history of the Miata? It was designed by Japanese engineers who swooned at the sight of the most classic sports roadsters of the fifties — the MG ragtops, the Truimph Spitfires, even the Lotus Elan.

Oh, there was and still is magic in the chrome, leather and glass of those amazing cars. The flow of the lines, the obvious shared DNA of WWII fighter planes, the wind-in-your hair exhilaration every time you passed thirty mph… those roadsters were the ultimate cocky bastards of the burgeoning American highway system.

There was just one problem.

The engines sucked.

In fact, the first question anyone asked you, after discovering you owned a MG Midget, was “Who’s your mechanic?”

So, for lazy guys like me, the ragtop remained an elusive dream. (I got deep into car culture as a teenager, but was more interested in the cartooning that accompanied the scene. Rat Fink, many of the guys from Mad, the expansion of pin-striping and flames and custom paint jobs with illustrations all intrigued me more than the grease-monkey details of conquering internal combustion. While other guys made goo-goo eyes at engine parts shrewn across the garage floor, I was too busy learning cross-hatch shading to get dirty.)

Enter the visionairies at Mazda.

They used the classic sports roadsters as their Holy Grail… and to a shocking degree, nailed it.
Pick up an issue of Car & Driver, or Road And Track, and see what those hard-to-please writers have to say about the Miata.

Hint: They love it.

I read as many of those articles as I could, going back to the introduction of the Miata twenty years ago. And every writer followed the same story line: They were skeptical… and then won over easily during their first test drive.

The Miata won’t win any races out there. But neither would those ancient UK and Italian ragtops.

The convertible ride isn’t about speed.

It’s about a brisk, smooth ride with five gears and top down… and every line of sight from the cockpit guilded with pure joyful design.

I’ve wanted my own thrashed-yet-dependable MG ragtop all my adult life… and with the Miata, I have the entire experience. Minus the undependable engine.

That Miata is a stud, and it can’t wait to get out on the road.

You wanna denigrate it, cuz it ain’t got G-force speed or deep-pocket sticker-shock pedigree?

Fine.

But you’re dissing the classic roadster, dude.

This puppy is FUN to drive.

Most people aren’t prepared to be assaulted with actual affection for the car, when they insult it. “Hey, you got your girlfriend’s car today, huh?” Snicker.

Nope. It’s our car, and I love it. It’s a direct linear descendent of the MG… etc.

Shuts ‘em up.

And you know what? People may fall back into their prior dismissal, after I’m gone… cuz the default opinion of the Miata (especially among men with weak confidence) is pretty strongly negative.

But when I see them later… a glimmer of a spark flashes in their eyes, even if they refuse to acknowledge the specialness of the Miata.

That glimmer… is the recognition that, through my story, they felt the raw heat of honest passion and affection coming off me. I’ve had guys who don’t even allow words like “passion” into their vocabulary admit that, around me, they understand how cool the car kinda is.

They’re not gonna rush out and buy one, of course.

But they do shut up. And consider a whole new and unexpected line of thought, contrary to their prior stance.

Hard-ass guys who wouldn’t flinch losing a finger in a lathe, will have to stifle a tear remembering going to their first baseball game with their Pop. Or the birth of their daughter. Or the last time they hung out with friends on a warm summer’s evening, half a lifetime ago when the world seemed… better.

And their first car?

Fuhget about it.

And pass the kleenex.

The memories that sustain most folks are too vague to be translated as meaningful stories. When you learn to put your feelings and thoughts and graphic detail into a tale — about anything — you possess a power to sway emotion and influence people.

As the Zen master once said… to become eloquent, you must first learn to shut up.

You actually do people a favor by crushing the thoughtless, meandering babble occupying their brains… and bringing new things into focus with a story that makes sense to their heart, as well as their head.

Something to think about, in your quest to learn the art of persuasion.

Stay frosty,

John Carlton

P.S. What was your first car?

P.P.S. Just a reminder: I’ll be on the road until the first week in July, so this blog may see spotty posts.

However, in normal situations, I’m posting every Monday and Thursday. Like freakin’ clockwork.

Sign up to be notified, in the box up there on the right. Yeah, I know you’re swamped with stuff to read… but really, this should be one of your first stops, twice a week.

Enjoy the summer as it starts to blossom…

P.P.S. Extra bonus story: The most classic American sports convertible — and even die-hard Corvette fans won’t argue too strongly against this — was the ’55 Thunderbird. (Astonishingly, even the design changes that car went through in the following six years were all stellar. Then, for reasons only the honchos at Ford can explain, they killed the T-Bird as a sports car, and re-birthed it as a mid-size sedan.) (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

I met one of the guys who helped with the design of that original T-Bird. They were artists. They broke rules, they took inspiration from the best of the Italian elbow-draggers, they channeled Hollywood sci-fi and art deco and Navy submarines… and they fussed over every detail of that design until it was perfect.

Not perfect in any crash-test way. Not perfect, even, in aeronautical glide.

No.

It was perfect in the way Michealangelo’s David is perfect — the T-Bird was a design funneled through nature, physics, and art, and rolled onto the showroom floor with a thumbs-up from the gods.

What a car. The stuff of dreams…

19 Responses to Shutting People Up

  1. Hi John,

    my first (and only) car was a black Alfa Romeo (don’t ask me which model). I possessed it for a whole 3 days (and to this day I still don’t even have a drivers license).

    I was just coming from the lake were we went for a swim and we saw that lady with a black Alpha Romeo.

    She was just cleaning out the car, had all kinds of stuff in there (even a lamp).

    I just asked her what she was doing and she told me she was taking her stuff out and then would drive the car to the junkyard.

    Turns out the car was still driving but it just had so many kilometers that she thought it was not worth selling. I asked her again if it’s driving, and the breaks working and everything and she confirmed.

    So, I told her she wouldn’t have to bother with the junkyard and I’d take it for free. Visited her later at home were she gave us all the paperstuff, handed me the keys and two days later I picked up the car with a friend and he drove me to the local car market. (Every saturday there’s this market here in Berlin – it’s all Russians, Ukraine, Polish, Czech, Romanian car dealers) and I sold the car for 300 Euro – didn’t even need to fill the gas.

    Was a fun experience.

    But other than that, the “car section” of my brain is defunct. I care as much about cars as I care about nail polish.

  2. Kid Clueless says:

    [...] On John CarltonShutting People UpThursday, 7:26pm Reno, NV “You know how to whistle, don’t you? You just put your lips [...]

  3. Larry Foster says:

    My first car was a ’57 Chevy. 283, 4 barrel, about 7 mpg:(
    Damn, I wish I had that car today.
    My opinion is that the mid ’50s were the pinnacle of American car design.
    Though partial to Chevies, Fords were excellent,too.
    The other fun car I had wasd a new ’73 MGB. It wasn’t the fastest car around but on the windy, hilly country roads of western Pa, it was great.
    Quite a chick magnet,too.
    Today, cars are just transportation.
    America has lost the ability to create anything like those cars of the ’50s.

    Larry Foster

  4. Sindy says:

    The first car I drove was an Olds Delta 88. It was a huge, baby-blue metallic beast that probably got about 3 MPG. It was incredibly fast and had a really loud value tick, so you could hear me coming from a half a mile away. We called it “the bomb”.

    First car I ever bought was a ’67 Mustang, red with a black vinyl top. Loved that car, but wanted a rag top, so I bought a ’67 Mustang convertible that was a fixer upper. I could see the road through the floor boards as I was driving. I had it restored over the years and drove it until the kids came. Sold it for a wagon (gasp). Looking forward to buying a car based on style rather than family function once the kids are bigger. I woudl love a convertible Mini Cooper. I like the new Saturn convertibles, too.

  5. My first car and so far only car is a charcoal gray ’94 Saturn SL-1 that we call “The Millenium Penguin”. I think my wife doesn’t love it like I do. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why Saturn stopped making cars that got 40 MPG highway, never mind what they did to the design.

    As for the Miata, I used to drool over those, and I’m not the type to pay much attention to cars. As with the Saturn, I liked the earlier designs much better. Something about the level top surface when everyone else was sloping, the particular way they put the curves on the edges, etc…if I hadn’t been living in San Francisco (where a parking space costs as much as an apartment in a more sane market), and had I had any money, I know where I would have spent it.

  6. Sindy says:

    Oh, and the Olds was a 1965. It was a tank. Didn’t look good, but it was fun to drive compared to today’s mostly wimpy cars.

  7. Roy Furr says:

    John…

    The Miata! I still remember my first time sitting in one of those…

    In 1999 my mom was shopping for a new car, and I was with her. We were at the Mazda dealership. I had some time to kill and was walking around the show-room.

    There was a 99 Miata MX-5 in polished red that sucked your eyes right toward it.

    I glanced around to make sure I wouldn’t be attacked by a salesperson, then slipped into the captain’s chair, and felt my hand automatically fuse with the stick-shift.

    The other hand comfortably grabbed the wheel and suddenly I was driving 70 miles per hour down the freeway — without the car ever starting up.

    I could just tell that — regardless of the power or punch — that car would be a blast to drive!

    There’s few cars that give you that feeling without ever having to turn the ignition.

    Your 1980 Celica GT Hatchback was one.

    The Miata is another.

    Damn what anyone else says!

    … Oh yeah, and thanks for another wonderfully illustrative lesson in putting real life into your selling.

    Roy

  8. Fred says:

    Hey John

    I’ve been waiting for this post.

    My first car was a ’72 Monte Carlo. For those that don’t know, that was the last year they built that body style, then they got big and ugly.

    Car buffs know this as well as anyone that’s been around the block a few times, 1972-73 was the last remaining years of any real design on the classics. There were a couple in 74 but not much.

    I would tell my wife all about it when we first met. Showed the photos and all. She would say how cool it was, but you could tell she couldn’t “feel” it.

    I had that car for all of three and a half years in highschool. Sold it to a guy that worked for my father and didn’t see it again for 15years.

    I joined the Army after highschool. Met my wife in Germany. Moved all over the place telling her the stories, telling people and friends the stories about the car. Showed ‘em the photos. Nobody really “got it”.

    Then, as luck would have it I move back to my home town with my wife. A few years later a Monte Carlo shows up for sale in town. Looked a lot like mine. Same color of Blue that it was changed too. (when I had it, it was Black with Black interior and a Black vinyl top… ewww it was sweet!)

    So I find out through the grape vine that it’s my old car!

    I bought it back. Believe it or not everyone who had it took care of it like it was a new born baby.

    Original interior-MINT. Vinyl top-MINT. This car still looks new.
    The only thing not origianl besides the blue paint, is the new 350 small block and I don’t mind that a bit!

    Big car, but blazingly fast. Every time I pull up to a street light next to a fixed up Honda or Nissan with the “New Generation” sitting there, they look and say cool car but they think they’ve got something on me with speed cause “theirs is smaller and weighs less with a Turbo”. He he he.

    You should see the look on their face after I “roar” off and peel the paint of their car with my dual exhaust.

    Pricless!

  9. Bri Chance says:

    This was such a funny article! My first car was a vista cruiser :) I love the unique headline I use a tool called glyphius whenever I want a unique saying its a copywriters dream :)

  10. Ken Calhoun says:

    Great discussion re first cars, sounds like everyone has some fun experiences to share… here’s mine:

    First car was a 77 old cutlass — had to repair it all the time; a 9/16″ wrench was my friend… I remember having to jump start it by spraying cologne into the carb often… those were the days…

    Then on to my favorite car, an ’84 Nissan 300ZX (plates “HIPHOPZ”) for my clubbing days, with a huge stereo system, car that went boom… my ‘catch car’ … I could write books on how to “quadruple your dating” and then some… missing all those nights, around Hermosa Beach, Santa Monica, then Huntington Beach clubs….

    What I liked best about the 300ZX w/t-tops was this car had a seductive female voice that talked at you, like when you opened the door and left the lights on “lights are still on” in a breathy voice… needless to say it was great… like having “galaxina” on wheels… never needed repairs either, a great car (til I moved to Michigan and the saltwater streets killed the fuel injector nozzles, had to junk it).

    Then on to the Camrys — great car, comfortable, but utterly boring.. no style.. so I’m in search of something more exciting… zero repairs in 8 years now… (that’s it, eg 3 cars owned in my whole lifetime and I’m 44… I drive ‘em til they die)…

    That 300ZX, I want to get another one though, it was fantastic.

    -k

  11. [...] The post is titled “Shutting People Up”. [...]

  12. [...] The post is titled “Shutting People Up”. [...]

  13. [...] The post is titled “Shutting People Up”. [...]

  14. Josh says:

    I am sorry that I have to post this John, but I cannot let an inaccuracy like this go lest it be seen and perpetuated by the uninformed. The Gremlin was a car designed and built by the American Motor Company (AMC) not the General Motors Corporation (GMC) as was stated in the article.

    Normally, not generally being a car person I would not know something like this and would simply think “Hmm, GMC, that sounds right”. Unfortunately, my brother-in-law has a Gremlin with a V8 that he uses for drag racing, so I’ve heard quite a bit about them.

    Anyways, enough with the diatribe, my first car was a 1980 Honda Accord. I loved that little car, the body style always reminded me of a BMW (except for the rust and faded paint).

    John Carlton replies:

    Dude! You nailed me, red-handed. The Pacer was the GMC model in the “goofy” category, right?

    Anyway, congrats on being the only guy to catch the mistake. I shoulda popped over to Google to fact-check…

    John

    Carlton again:

    Nope, the Pacer was AMC, too. I googled it.

    Man, those AMC designers must have been doing some heavy drugs during the 70s. They absolutely dominate the doofus designs of that whack era…

  15. This was such a fun and amusing post and comments :)

    My first car was a gift for my 16th birthday… it was an early 70′s Pacer, that I received in the mid 80′s. Not sure if you remember what those looked like… like a spaceship… a pod. LOL

    I got to own that car for a whole 2hrs… till my step-father had it towed to the junkyard. I was promised a car, and I did get a car. At no time did my father say it what model, year, or if it is even insurable :)

    What I really wanted was this beautiful late 70s dark navy blue Stingray. It sure was pretty, but then again, I thought highschool would never end :)

    Now, what I look for is a pair of really comfy shoes… I walk almost everywhere, and what perfect timing with the gas prices!

    What a really fun post this was. Thanks for the walk down memory lane… but that Stingray was pretty though!!!

    Sam

  16. Kat says:

    My first car was an orange VW pop-top camper – which I lived in through undergraduate school at UCSC – an rolled three times on an snowy day in Utica NY.

    About 10 years ago I got a serious hankering for a miata, and three years ago bought a 1996. I adore it.

    Kat

  17. I’m constantly BLOWN-AWAY at how many similarities we have in our lives John. Almost every blog post you write I somehow can associate it directly to my life.

    If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were my long lost dad. No shitting. I don’t even post to some of your rants because I don’t want to appear like I’m pandering. But geez, every single time I read this blog it somehow brings up old memories in my life.

    And I mean every time.

    For instance,

    I too used to sleep out of a old grey 1980 Celica. That was before I got blind-sided by some lady and totaled the thing. Insurance paid me about $1200 for the car. Cool thing was, I only paid $500 for it. And, had just gotten $800 on another claim a few months ago for some minor damage to the front end that I neglected to fix. I just took the $800 and drove around with some dents on the hood.

    And Dodge Vans, don’t even get me started. I was in love with my 1978 Dodge Camper Van. I had the bed in the back, surround sound stereo set up, and cold beers in the fridge. That thing was invented to park backwards at the drive in movies with the doors swinging wide open.

    Also had some great drive in experience in a nicer Chevy Conversion Van. Had another jalopy Dodge van too, but that one didn’t last too long.

    Believe it or not, I’ve had about 55 cars since my youth. I always had beaters most of the time though. I loved buying a $600 car and rallying that thing til it died a honorable death.

    Jumping the Datsun B210 off the side of truck loading dock inclines was so much fun. And 4 x 4-ing the Ford F-250 into every other tree I could find on Mt. Hood was a blast. Could never forget taking the doors and top off the 75 Chevy Blazer either. That was a blast.

    But my very first car was a 1976 Green Ford Pinto. I remember only having $500 and I talked the owner down to $600. But I was still a C-Note short. So I asked my parents if they would help me buy it.

    NOPE!

    My mother said… “You got a job, pay for it yourself”.

    And I’m damn glad she did. My parents didn’t give me much of anything as a teenager. Nor did they have to. I was hustling and working since the age of 12. I always had my own money.

    So I scrapped the extra $100 and bought that ugly green machine. It was jacked up with funny looking “Rocker Mags” and had a “Wood Paneling” strip down the side.

    We nicknamed that car the “Green Machine” (for multiple reasons).

    Ah the lovely ol Pinto.

    Right now, I don’t really care about cars that much. They just don’t do it for me. I still have a 1998 Ford Aerostar minivan that is decked out as a “Spy Van”. I used it on private investigation gigs.

    It’s equipped with hidden cameras in the tail lights, has tv monitors inside, and has a office built into the back of the van. It was in the back of that van that I learned most of what I know about copywriting by reading John’s stuff, Halbert’s stuff, and Dan Kennedy.

    Because of that, I have a certain love for that van and have little desire to get rid of it. Haven’t driven it in a year, but still love to just look at that dirty thing.

    But my day to day travels take place in a 98 or 96 Five Series BMW. To be honest I don’t even know the year. Don’t really care either.

    In fact, I don’t even know the model number. I think it’s a 531 or something. I’ve lost the fascination with most cars.

    Unless of course it’s a Bitchen Camaro or something all bad ass like that.

    I’m in the market to buy some cool cars, so if anyone has a ridiculously awesome Charger, Camaro, Lincoln, Cadillac (Bull Horn Hood Ornaments are Double Bonus Points), or anything old and really groovy I’d be interested in buying.

    But, really I just want a car that will do BURN OUTS!

    No that’s living :)

    J-Mo

    PS: I have about 90,000 car stories from my childhood. I could probably write a book or two about the car thieving gang I used to be in as young as 14 years old.

    Me and about 8 Vietnamese kids jacking Toyota’s all day. Did you know that almost any old Toyota key will start any other old Toyota? Works like a champ too if you slightly shave down the key a wee bit.

    Just now the image of my brother popped into my mind. Get this… He was 12 years old, sitting on Phone Books (no lie) in a Datsun B210 they just picked up from the towing yard for $50. In his lap, a 40 ounce of St. Ides Malt Liquor, and in the passenger seat a loaded pistol. And he was 12 years old.

    Absolutely NUTS how we rolled as a youth. In fact, just plain dumb. Damn you rap music!

  18. Paul says:

    Hello John,

    I know this post is coming WAY after your post but I just had to add my comment to this great reminiscence of yours on old cars and growing up. My first car was a ’67 Cougar. The first year they came out. What a sweet car that was. Owned it for about eight years and learned A LOT about mechanics and working on cars (which I still do to this day) during that time. Although I have owned a number of cars over the years, that one still holds the fondest memories for me. In 1980 I bought a ’70 Barracuda which I redid into a totally mean street machine and I still have it today. Although I need to take it apart and redo the paint job. Right now I am in the process of restoring a 1988 T-top Camaro as a first car for my granddaughter. Just a little six cylinder, nothing too wild. As always your posts hit really close to home. Be Cool!

  19. Krystal says:

    I don’t remember how I found your blog but I read it and totally agree w/you about convertibles. I’m on my 5th convertible right now! They’re the only car I’ve ever owned, but I’m VERY young (but I won’t say how young :P). My last car was a 99 Miata on which I changed the front end to the 01 model bumper and headlights because they’re much more aggressive IMO. Now I have an ’03 Z4 which I also love and I think falls into the same category as your Celica… It is, for some, an acquired taste. Others never warm up to it… Oh well, I love her and that’s all that matters. Congrats on finding new love in the Miata. They are too much fun :D Happy Turkey Day!!!!!!!!

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