You know, my Beetle really needs a spoiler; the rear end gets a bit light and twitchy over a ninety miles an hour. And it is front wheel drive.
Now, I admit, it is a bit fast to be going, even on the three lane highway I know like the back of my hand, but not incredibly so.
And, I may ask, what is wrong with liking small, fuel-efficient cars that happen to have almost or over two hundred horsepower, provided by high RPMs and not simple size and displacement?
Is anyone who purchases or modifies a small, inexpensive sports car in the year 2003 unworthy of being an enthusiast? Or must we stick to the honorable Mustang as the only worthy vehicle? It’s the very latest thing, you know, with a chassis dating from 1984.
Perhaps we should purchase a nice thirty year old muscle car that pollutes like a decaying hog, steers like a dead cow, and brakes like a banana peel, has the NVH standards of a freight train? It’s a real car, after all.
No, seriously, I have nothing against muscle cars. I love them, and one day, I intend to purchase a nice Dodge Charger to rebuild from the wheels up. But they simply don’t compare to a modern car, except in a straight line, and they lack severely in daily use.
That’s not saying anything in praise of the people who slap Type R stickers on a Toyota, but you’re tarring an awful lot of people with the ugly stick just because of the visible behavior of a few.