Hammer Time: Big Hair Cars and Beemers

A few of my friends had their tongues hanging out. The year: 1984. The car: a brand new Toyota Celica Supra. It had the words ‘SUPRA’ in big bubble letters on the rear. Just in case you missed it. Pop-up headlights. Seats that actually had bolsters on them. A sunroof, and the very best AM/FM Cassette money could buy. My brother, that lucky and overachieving bastard, got it brand new as a thank you for the 4.0’s that would eventually land him in the world of radiology. After experiencing my very first “Holy Shit!” moment as a passenger (my folks were lifelong right lane drivers), and watching a five-speed shift for the first time, I was smitten. Later on that evening I watched my first Knight Rider and then all hell broke loose.

I started seeing cars for the first time. A lustful Camaro V8 driven by a Jersey guy with more gold chains than . . . well . . . any of my friends. A Datsun 280ZX with what seemed like a headlight design straight from Mars. Before this time the automobile had been nothing more than a big pillowy yawnbox. Early 80s Cadillacs, a Buick diesel, my grandpas 1974 Chevy Impala. They were eventually replaced with two Toyota Celica GTs, a 1st gen Acura Legend, and a Lincoln Mark VII. Although the cubist proportions and big letters denoting the model would become a thing of the past, the fun and reliability of these models would stay with me well into the 90s and beyond.

Of course, time, machines and aspirations move on. For example: a 1998 BMW 540i in dark blue with a 6-speed, leather, and an excellent history with 110k miles. Two owners. The second had bought it as a certified pre-owned vehicle. First three years spent in Virginia, the last eight in rust-free metro Atlanta. Michelin tires. Garage kept. A few scratches but otherwise a cream puff. Guess how much?