Let’s have some fun …. We acquired our cars long after they were new in the showroom…
So…picture this… You are NOW in 1971, in your psychedelically decorated house, that only those on the wrong type of mushrooms would live in today.
There you are sitting next to your Lava Lamp, wearing your tie die shirt, watching your wooden, six channel TV set …THEN…a new TV commercial comes on showing the latest trend in automotive styling, announcing that the new 1971 Mustangs are in your local showrooms….BUY NOW !
You agonize over whether to exchange ....NOW TODAY...you remembered that a week ago the dog left a big, steaming, brown curly link on the back seat that you had to clean up -and the car hasn't smelled or handled right ever since...
...So now you are thinking of exchanging the Fairlane, Corsair, Biscayne, Coronet or other tin riddled shitbox that is infecting your driveway, for something a little more racy. ...The ads are tickling and enticing you.
You open the newspaper and right there is another advertisement.
You pick your "A" line flared, polyester covered ass off the mohair sofa ...leave the house in your boxy monstrosity and drive to your local dealership to take a look… Then you decide “YES” I’ll change my car now…
- an horrific reminder.
There you are in the showroom with Bob the salesman... two sets of impossible sideburns and absurd viva Zapata moustache's duking it out over the details.
…what would you have from the options list when it was new in the dealership show-room?
So…picture this… You are NOW in 1971, in your psychedelically decorated house, that only those on the wrong type of mushrooms would live in today.
There you are sitting next to your Lava Lamp, wearing your tie die shirt, watching your wooden, six channel TV set …THEN…a new TV commercial comes on showing the latest trend in automotive styling, announcing that the new 1971 Mustangs are in your local showrooms….BUY NOW !
You agonize over whether to exchange ....NOW TODAY...you remembered that a week ago the dog left a big, steaming, brown curly link on the back seat that you had to clean up -and the car hasn't smelled or handled right ever since...
...So now you are thinking of exchanging the Fairlane, Corsair, Biscayne, Coronet or other tin riddled shitbox that is infecting your driveway, for something a little more racy. ...The ads are tickling and enticing you.
You open the newspaper and right there is another advertisement.
You pick your "A" line flared, polyester covered ass off the mohair sofa ...leave the house in your boxy monstrosity and drive to your local dealership to take a look… Then you decide “YES” I’ll change my car now…
- an horrific reminder.
There you are in the showroom with Bob the salesman... two sets of impossible sideburns and absurd viva Zapata moustache's duking it out over the details.
…what would you have from the options list when it was new in the dealership show-room?
Last edited by a moderator: