I’m in the market for a new car. Something practical. But also sporty. With cherry red paint. A Kentucky Derby’s worth of horsepower. More speed than Keanu Reeves. And before you ask, no, I’m not having a mid-life crisis. That’s ridiculous. Can’t a man bemoan his life’s choices, lament its future direction, and impulsively spend thousands of dollars in a vain attempt to recapture his youth without being accused of having a mid-life crisis? (According to my wife: no.)
The truth is, and for reasons I can’t quite put an arthritic finger on, I’m no longer comfortable driving the family minivan. It’s old and unsafe. Its once-shiny skin is a patchwork of ugly spots. Its headlights, dim and clouded, struggle to pierce the twilight. The engine, once a powerhouse of efficiency and strength, now wheezes when it runs, and the tires, bald and worn, refuse to look attractive no matter how much you style them.
That’s why I quickly warmed to the idea of buying a new car. And I became convinced of it once the young saleslady at the dealership (a) explained the benefits of the latest safety features, fuel efficiency standards, and manufacturer warranties, and (b) briefly touched my arm.
I think she’s right. I’m a thinning hair’s breadth away from purchasing the all-new 2024 Crisis ML. Here are the specs.
Engine & Performance: Unleashed Beast
Type: 6.2L V12 Supercharged Engine, dominating the competition like that game against Holy Cross.
Torque: 700 lb-ft, more twists than the Tom Clancy-esque plot of your life.
0-60 mph: A blistering 2.9 seconds, faster than your last decision to skydive on a whim.
Transmission: 8-Speed Dual-Clutch Automatic with Paddle Shifters, for when you want to feel every gear shift like the strings of a guitar in your first band.
Exterior Features: Magnetism on Wheels
Color: "Eternal Midnight Blue" with "Rebel Chrome" accents, because who says darkness can't shine?
Wheels: 21-inch Hyper Alloy, blades ready to carve asphalt in the high school parking lot.
Tires: ZR-rated for maximum grip, like your well-developed forearms.
Aerodynamics: A ground-effect body kit that sucks you to the road like the lead role in your personal action movie.
Lighting: Laserbeam LEDs, piercing the night like your billion-dollar ambitions.
Interior Comfort & Tech: Decadence Meets Domination
Seats: Zero-Gravity Leather with Massage Function, because conquering the world shouldn't be uncomfortable.
Dashboard: A holographic display, because buttons are so last century.
Infotainment: An AI Assistant with voice recognition, capable of booking your next bungee jump or setting the mood with Metallica on loop.
Special Feature: An ejectable roof, because sometimes you just need to feel the wind in your hair as you defy gravity.
Eternal Youth Package: Legends Never Fade
"Phoenix Rebirth" Vinyl Wrap Option, because your car should be as legendary as your life's second act.
A year's subscription to "Adrenaline Experiences Unlimited," from cliff diving to concert stage diving, all booked from your dashboard.
A "Backstage Pass" to exclusive Crisis ML owner events, where tales of groupies abound.
For some reason, the specs for this car speak to me. Are they a plain description of its various features? Or are they a transparent attempt to appeal to men who are insecure about aging and desperate to recapture their youth? You think it’s the latter? You sound just like my wife.
Great post even for a non-car person like me. I am assuming your reference to "more speed than Keanu Reeves" refers to the great 1994 movie "Speed," which (although it dates me) I used to introduce my 12 year old son to action thrillers. Perhaps an aggressive introduction but solidified my cred as a cool mom.
Get a Harley?