By all reckoning I am not a Car Guy. Never was, probably never will be. Yeah, I can change a tire, I can change the oil, I know where the dipstick is and where to pour the wiper fluid (not into the engine casing), but I don't know how to operate a stick shift, the clutch scares me half to death, and BIG! NOISY! HIGH-POWERED! HIGH-PERFORMANCE! engines intimidate the hell out of me. I am not The Compleat Man.
That doesn't stop me from admiring cool cars; after all, I grew up in the 'Sixties and was surrounded by the fallout from hot rod/Kustom Kulture-- the art of Ed "Big Daddy" Roth and Robert Williams, Rat Fink dolls, the Monkeemobile, the Munster Koach, the (original) Batmobile, and, most especially, the Aston-Martin DB5 from Goldfinger.
Let's ignore my hearse obsession for the time being*.
Anyway, the other day I was cruising Boing Boing ("A Directory of Wonderful Things") and happened upon this item: Phantom Corsair from 1938.
O. M. G!
Check it out:
That, my friends, is one sweet, sweet ride!
*Ah, but some day I will own one!