Dear Tom and Ray,
Today I heard a story on NPR that can’t have escaped your notice. It was about a journalist with an irrational love for her old beater Volvo. She says in the story that her car became a subconscious symbol of her motherhood and was very dear to her heart. After years of driving her junker she realized how much she cared for her car and wondered if her automotive affection was shared by others or if she was a whacko!
As I’m sure you two would predict, she was flooded with stories of folks who love their cars. I myself have been in love with a car, my old '87 Toyota Corolla Wagon. It got me through high school, college and saved my life multiple times. When I finally bid it farewell my old car was heartbroken, and it threw a rod on its new owner within weeks in its grief.
For this journalist, her love for her Volvo was fairly rational: it reminded her of her journey of motherhood. However, being a Car Talk listener, I’m familiar with Tommy’s irrational love for old junker cars, notably his old Fiat. I’m wondering if you have rational explanation for loving your junk cars; what’s your excuse?!