I understand the sentiment, but it is not for me. Perhaps I was scarred by my youth. I grew up driving crappy cars. For years I said that if a genie appeared and granted me one wish, it would be a car that started every time I turned the key, the first time I turned the key, and no matter when I turned the key.
Years later when my wife and I were finally through school and fully employed, our first new car was a beautiful Mazda Protégé. It was our genie wish come true. It started every time I turned the key, the first time I turned the key. I was hooked. With an unfortunate diversion with a Chrysler minivan and an expensive infatuation with an Audi RS6, our family cars ever since then have been reasonably nice cars that had the most highly prized virtues of reliability and comfort.
Having said that, my 84 Carrera sits in my mother in law's garage, waiting for Minnesota's spring to finally arrive and for the last bits to be sorted so I can finally get it on the road. I'll probably always have one old, interesting car that has "personality" hidden away somewhere for sunny summer afternoons. But when it comes to my serious time in cars, I crave comfort and reliability.
Now get off my law, don't scratch my Buick, it's time for my Metamucil
