By Jonny Lieberman
March 27, 2008 -
Us car-journo types spill a lot of ink writing about interiors. Interiors? Yeah. You could have an otherwise perfectly fine vehicle let down by crap plastics and more crap plastics. Ford's Mustang comes to mind. In fact, I have zero interest in the new Challenger because of the sub-bargain-basement innards. Looking at the photos reminds me of Chrysler's Sebring, the most miserable modern vehicle I've ever experienced. My point? Interiors matter. In fact, some are so good that I want to spend eternity in them. But which one? Audis always get tossed around when kick-ass insides are discussed. No thank you. Too dark, too much metal and too engineered. That basically rules out anything from Germany. No one wants to be wrapped in a computer forever. What about jolly old England. Nice, indeed, but British cars pose two problems. One, they're too stuffy. Even though you're dead, you still want to breathe. Two, they're too German. If you've ever found yourself in a Bentley GT you were no doubt aghast at the Passat gear lever. This leaves only one country — Italy. And currently, only one car. Bury me in the Maserati Quattroporte Executive GT. You?
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POWERED
March 27th, 2008 at 7:34 pm
A Corbin Sparrow would be about the right size.
March 27th, 2008 at 7:29 pm
A 1965 The East Glows (Chinese). Since finding one will be nigh-near impossible, perhaps I can forestall my death.
March 27th, 2008 at 7:26 pm
A supercharged 1983 Dodge Ramcharger.
You know, just in case.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EQkyi1_l6po
March 27th, 2008 at 7:24 pm
I could spemnd the rest of eternity in my 1986 Jaguar XJ6 Soveriegn, real wood, real leather and my legs were comfy in the almost laying down position. After all I don’t have to get out of it again. That was a problem with that car as I got older. And I do have eternity to figure out the weird cruise control that was dash mounted.
March 27th, 2008 at 7:24 pm
I’ve always imagined that I’ll meet my end as a result of the following scenario:
It is a gorgeous sunny day, and I can’t resist the temptation to take out the Family Heirloom… my father’s old ‘65 E-type Jaguar. I fire up the XK engine and spend a few wonderful hours coursing through the unknown back roads in the foothills around my home, just like countless times before. As I wrap up the reverie of listening to Sir William’s Sixth Symphony echo through the hills, and head home through town, some cell-phone yakking, Starbucks sipping soccer-mom in her GMC Yukon runs a red light and the diminutive Jaguar & I are crumpled into her wheel-well. The last thing I see is her right front turn signal shattering on the Jag’s windscreen as the two objects compress my skull into the trunk lid. That is unless vision survives decapitation, in which case I’ll get to see the world bounce a few times before my head rolls into the curb.
So bury (what’s left of) me in the Jag.
And Mr. Lieberman, if you would like some time behind the wheel of this machine prior to my demise, I’m happy to oblige… just ask. It is only a fitting reward for the man that wrote this tribute to the machine.
–chuck
http://chuck.goolsbee.org
March 27th, 2008 at 7:23 pm
86er
Oh no, Farago and I had the exact same thought at the exact same time.
I think I spend too much time on this site…
You and me both.
March 27th, 2008 at 7:22 pm
A Popemobile. Maybe God would get a laugh out of it.
March 27th, 2008 at 7:17 pm
The 69 International Harvester pick-up truck I learned to drive in on the farm.
Or, a 72 Ford Country Squire woody, just like the one Mom and Dad had growning up.
March 27th, 2008 at 7:11 pm
In a perfect world I would bust through the guard rail on California’s Pacific Coast Highway in a prototype Saleen Raptor and die in a ball of flames!!!!!!!
Of course no one else would be harmed by my actions.
March 27th, 2008 at 6:58 pm
Oh no, Farago and I had the exact same thought at the exact same time.
I think I spend too much time on this site…