Middle-Aged Men Driving Their Mid-Life Crises
Roy at Alicublog informs us that the NRO has gone Â“completely bullgoose,Â” and he ain’t kidding. Among the other weird tantrums being thrown there by the mean spirited and the ill-informed there is one by some guy who lets us know up front he drives the same Maserati as Bono and makes shitloads of money:
Now letÂ’s look at her. Mmm. She is beautiful, no? I first saw the Quattroporte in a hangar at the Santa Monica airport. We had been invited to the West Coast unveiling of the car, and I donÂ’t really know why we went, other than that it seemed kind of cool. A small dark man addressed the crowd. He wore an impeccable blue pinstriped Zegna suit and spoke with a genuinely cartoonish Italian accent. Â“You must fall in love wizz a car zee way you fall in love wizz a woman.Â” A moment later, he pulled a glittering silk drape off the car, and I grabbed the nearest salesman and said, Â“IÂ’ll take it.Â” Come to think of it, thatÂ’s exactly how I fell in love with my wife….
Maserati claims they will produce no more than 3500 Quattroportes a year, 1,500 for the North American market, thus ensuring that my personal statement of elite status remains as close to unique as a car can Â—
I keep reading for the punch line, you know? Where the guy admits he really drives a minivan, barbecues on weekends and cuts his own grass, or at least makes a self-referential nod to the fact that this is the liberal stereotype of a smug, status-obsessed Republican asshole Â–– and it never comes. No, the upshot of the whole article is Â“I’m a rich, right-wing bastard and fuck you all.Â”
I’m thinking of writing a piece about how I’m an amoral liberal slut with big boobs who gives it up easy to flag burners and draft dodgers. Think I’ll submit it to Tapped. They’ll run it.