Nothing Says "Chickmobile" Like Corvette

THE FOLLOWING IS AN UPDATED ENCORE TIM MOORE BLOG:

The very notion that a CAR has the power to attract women (regardless of the dweeb behind the wheel) is amusing, but if there is ANY car with the power to accomplish this feat, it is the Corvette.

It was on this date in 1952 that the very first Corvette, a production-ready prototype-was produced. GM Chief William Durant decided to build a small sports car after traveling to Europe and seeing the popularity of the speedy roadsters there. The first Corvette was reportedly modeled after a Jaguar. The prototype was said to have cost between $50,000 to $60,000 to build. The first production ‘Vette rolled off the assembly line on June 30 of 1953. Just over 300 Corvettes were built--- by hand—that first year.

OK, so now back to the women.

Ladies will often joke about a guy driving a hot car as trying to compensate for other, shall we say, “shortcomings”---but there seems to be no hesitation for most of them to jump in and take a ride, regardless of the Neanderthal in the driver’s seat.

I doubt that the reverse is true, however. Is there a woman out there who would NOT leap at the chance to take a drive with, say, George Clooney, even if the “ride” he was using was a ’69 Buick station wagon (with fake wood paneling)?

I think not.

Of course, this makes women look rather shallow, but what does it also say about men?
Namely, that we don’t have to be funny, interesting, good looking or kind. We, in fact, can be complete asses, as long as we have Italian driving gloves, cool shades and a hot sports car.

Here are a couple of vintage Corvette videos-the first is the original TV “commercial” for the 1953 Corvette. The second is from a decade later, as the 1963 ad has clearly migrated from sports car aficionados to sheer SEX APPEAL, which became the primary selling point, I think:



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HC8bwEQFx6M




http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BbxTHXUH4VE


Most of us have seen our share of middle-aged men trying to capture of spirit of our youth by tooling around in a sports car. The sunshine gleams off our bald heads as we wedge our portly frames into the bucket seats and challenge the teens and their muscle cars at every traffic light.

“Yeah! NOW, who’s cool!?”

Please shoot me if you ever see yours truly in this situation. While I cannot claim complete immunity from the outward manifestations of “midlife crisis”, it is another thing altogether to undergo this pain while making a complete ass out of myself in public.

Never mind. My wife will kill me before you get a chance.

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