Car salesmen call buyers like me, “squirrels.” It seems like whenever I buy a new car, I pull a handbrake 180 turn at the last moment and purchase a completely different vehicle than originally planned. Last week I was so close to buying a new Mustang GT with the Track Package that a friend at Ford was poised to set me up with an insider deal. The only problem was I seemed to have forgotten that this will not be my daily driver so why was I analyzing SYNC Packages, luggage space, resale value and the like?
I regrouped and asked myself two questions: which vehicle will have the soul of the two most fun cars I have ever owned, the 1994 Mazda RX-7 and the 1988 Honda CRX-Si? Why do I live in sunny San Diego and have never owned a convertible? The halogens went off in my head. As fate would have it, a dealer I know had just traded for the exact car I wanted. Say hello to my little yellow friend.
I am now the proud owner of a flawless 2008 Honda S2000 with only 27,000 miles on its clock. It is an unmodified “little old lady’s car” that a middle-aged Arizona couple took amazing care of before trading it in. They told the dealer that they were sad to let go of their “baby.” And, yes, Rio Yellow was my first color choice so I could be seen by the distracted-driving, left-lane-blocking blockheads that infest our freeways.
After three days of ownership I can say that I made the right decision: the S2K is an absolute hoot to drive. It has the slickest gearbox I have ever rowed and the motor pulls like a V-8 above 6,000 RPM. In the near future, and after a few runs up Palomar Mountain, I will write a “long-term test” story on my roadster. I promise it will be the first review of an S2000 that does not include the phrases, “It handles like a go-kart.” or “It’s a four-wheel motorcycle.”
The GT would have looked great in the garage next to my wife’s 1968 Mustang, is a tremendous value and Jack Baruth says it is the best all-around ponycar ever built, but my S2000 is an affordable, no compromise, kick-ass sports car the likes of which may never be seen again.