Sent to me by Reader Ken, this observation:
The REAL reason why older gentlemen and hyper cars don’t mix
The video is priceless.
Even as a youngin, I found it difficult to get behind the wheel of a sports car (and even more so to get out of it), mostly because I was bigger than the average Alfa/Ferrari-driving snake-hipped Dago.
With my current physique — yea, even after the Ozempic thing — I’d never be able to fit into a McLaren F1 or the like because shoulders. Getting out would require some kind of crane or block-and-pulley arrangement.
A little while ago I saw the middle-aged driver of a Mazda Miata having a little difficulty getting out at the supermarket, and I asked her how she found the Mazda.
“Best experience ever”, was her response.
“And the hassle of getting out?”
“Worth it.”
Which sums up my attitude, should I ever be in a position to own a sports car (NOT a “super car” because I’m not an idiot).

Yeah, it’s not a “real” Ferrari. Don’t care; it’s friggin’ gorgeous.
Actually, the fact that it’s a recreated Ferrari with a Corvette engine without the bloated (and expensive) “Ferrari mystique” makes it even more desirable to me.
And I don’t care about the crane thing, either.











