When I was a kid, one of my uncles was a drag racer, another was a rally racer, and the drag racer was also rebuilding a 72 Vette in the garage.

I have been playing with cars since I was at least 2 years old… and continue :D

Then I learned how to drive… and I couldn’t go back… ever

Cars are magic and complex machines. It’s magic that every morning you turn a key and it comes to life, with all that termodinamic complexity. A diesel is even more magic, it ignites only with compression.

Everything has negatives to go with the positives, not just cars. We just have to balance the good with the bad. Maybe if cars weren’t appliances to so much of the population they would remember the great joys cars give that can out weigh the negatives. Life is more fun if your actually allowed to live it rather then pass through it as a spectator.

I suspect that part of my love for cars–beyond the stuff I said above–comes from the fact that my parents worked a lot, and the times I got the most attention from them were the long drives–Seattle to LA and back when I was 3, Seattle to Menlo Park just before I turned 4, and then Menlo Park to Boston at the end of that summer, Boston back to Seattle when I was 7, Seattle back to Boston when I was 8, lots and lots and lots of trips in France and England when I was 12, followed by 3000 miles all over Europe for two months.

I drive Boston to DC and back at least once a year, and despite the fact that it is definitely not the most inspiring ride, I’m always happy in the car.

Like 97escort, those model year changes, for me beginning in the early ’60s, were tremendously exciting. The ‘64 Chevies still feel new to me the way they did the first time I saw them.

You can see more of why I love cars on my website, motorlegends.com

BTW, QOTD needs its own link on the front page.

“Suddenly, it’s 1960!”

The total amount of chrome plating (not including what was plated, just the plating itself) on a 1958 Oldsmobile 98 sedan was 44 lbs, 2 more than the 1958 Buick Limited had.

97escort: Ya got me by 2.

He once told me “you’ll come to hate cars!”

He was right, but I only hate the crap Detroit began turning out in the 1970’s.

There’s 8 collector cars dating from 1934 thru 1963 in my garage. I’d have more…if I had the space.

My personal library contains over 3,000 books on the history of the automobile.

Also, I do all the work and maintenance on my cars, so I form a bond with them that makes them seem like they’re my children. I’m a mechanical engineer and I own nothing else that compares to my car in terms of mechanical beauty and complexity. I’ll never have real children because I’d rather spend the money on cars! Of course, I’d come up with many other reasons not to have children even if I had enough money to buy every car in the world.

I like knowing a lot about something that most people at some point or another want to talk about. I’m their goto guy for car stuff. I like being a “car guy” with its varied definition.

My first sexual encounter was in a car

First time going 155 MPH {on land} in a 1985 Corvette in 1986

Closest I’ve come to death was in a car

Best place to cry is in a car

Best place to relax is in a car

It is all about the car!

I could go on and on, but I have to get some work done

I don’t justify my love, because love is unconditional, and I unconditionally love cars.

Couldn’t be said better. And oddly, I’m not sure I ever met a car I couldn’t love. Hell, I loved my unmarked, detective issue, faded blue K-Car from some years back. I loved my father’s 1963 Studebaker Lark, with rust holes in the floorboard so big my mother warned him not to take us kids in the car. Two cars that were unloved by many – but not me.

I’ve had much “better” cars, obviously, but to me, they’re like kids – you love all of them, no matter what.

Word…

On top of that, according to my parents I already loved cars as a really small child before I had even the mental ability to evaluate why I liked or didn’t like something (and, no, they didn’t push me into liking cars, since they couldn’t care less about them themselves).

Same with racing, only that came a couple of years later. One of the first races I remember seeing was when Michael Schuey deliberately crashed into Hill in 1994 (must have been 9 or 10) to win the F1 championship. Ah, if only I lived in another country that has a racing culture and my mother wasn’t scared that I would crash and burn had I gone racing when I was a young teen)…

Anyway, I couldn’t say why I love cars…but I do.

Experiencing timelessness in perfect maneuvering i.e. heal-toe

Good chassis feedback, once you have experienced it, there is no going back

Tuned exhaust notes of harmonically balance firing orders

Tastefully un-silenced induction systems

Externally vented BOV’s

Feeling the LSD working i.e. steering with the throttle

Turbo torque or the wine of a positive displacement supercharger

The feeling of completing a daylong detailing of your beloved automobile

Talking auto geek with a fellow enthusiast

I have never driven a ridiculous powerhouse of a car. I have a 2000 Ford Ranger. But its my Ranger. Nothing can beat driving with the windows down on a warm day, headed down the highway with music up and the wind in in my face. Zoning out on a long trip to Northern who-knows-where Maine. The synchronization of clutch-gear-gas, like a well oiled machine, happening without thinking. Not to rip off of everyone else, but freedom nails it on the head. Its my place, and I alone control it.

Honestly, I like my truck because it is essentially an extension of myself.