Dear Dr. Ink,
In a recent missive, you mentioned that you own a PT Cruiser. I have not, however, read anywhere why you acquired one or what you think of it. I also own a PT Cruiser, and of the 15-20 cars I’ve owned, it’s my favorite. Not only is it big enough to suit my larger frame, yet small enough to make it nimble in traffic, its versatility is unsurpassed by anything else its size. But perhaps most important to me, it suits my style. I am a lover of jazz and original R&B, and when I drive down the road listening to a CD by anyone from Louis Armstrong through Wayne Shorter, I’m tickled to be driving a car that is as classy as their music. So, what do you think of your vehicle?
Bill Chronister
St. Petersburg Times
Answer: Dr. Ink finds himself slightly reluctant to brag about his car. As Brian Wilson warns us in “Don’t Worry, Baby,” the result may be to push the other guys too far.
But this reader’s invitation proves irresistible. The Doc identifies with all the Cruiser virtues cited above. Doc also likes his retractable sun-roof that allows the tropical breezes to muss up what’s left of his hair.
When, in 1972, Dr. Ink married the gorgeous Inka, her car came as part of the dowry. It happened to be a 1966 Mustang, the fastback model, painted British Racing Green. Although the New England winters corroded this vehicle to rusty dust, Doc retains his romantic attachment to those early Mustangs, and regularly checks the classified ads for classic cars.
One day, when Dr. Ink was at the mall, he began searching for his car in the parking lot. He had forgotten whether he had driven the 2000 white Camry, or the 1992 white Chrysler Voyager van. Looking out on a virtual sea of white sedans and white vans, Doc was lost — and heartsick. Suddenly, all cars looked the same. What a tragedy, especially for a boy growing up in the era of Thunderbirds, Impalas, and GTOs. Car models seemed so distinctive back then, and subject to dramatic and surprising changes each year.
So Doc bought a PT Cruiser. He accepts the criticism that it seems to evoke an era of touring car that was in style in the 1930s, before Doc was born.
Which leads to Doc’s complaint for the day about journalism. Why does every local newscast seem to look like every other? Why do all metropolitan newspapers appear to be designed by the same designer? What ever happened to distinctive styling and rich Corinthian leather?
