My dream is to not own a car at all.
I agree with the caveat that the remaining solar masculinity impulses in me are forever lost on the day that my dad and I went to an automotive history museum in south-central Pennsylvania for a day trip (as we often did) and saw a Studebaker Avanti casually parked out front.
Many such cases. One time, when I must have been about 14, I was on a walk with my dad when either a Maserati or a Bugatti Veyron suddenly drove by. We were going to get a picture but didn't manage it in time and I was very sad. Very little of that version of me remains now, as you can tell from the fact that I can't actually remember what sort of car it was, but the disappointment at not having gotten a record of that much of a black swan event is still fully understandable to me.
