Often criticized. And often maligned. Well, here's a voice in the wet wilderness...
#1
09-29-2013, 06:15 PM
Often criticized. And often maligned. Well, here's a voice in the wet wilderness...
After a night of steady thunderstorms here in Northwest Louisiana, today's rain had softened to a gentle shower by morning. That's when "She who must be obeyed" suggested that I motor to the closest International House of Pancakes (five miles distant) for the purpose of returning with a tasty, if calorie-laden, brunch for two. It was one of the nicest things she's done for me in a long time.
Let me share that I'm a child of the 1940s - which means that I was twelve years old in the mid 1950s. And that means that I was of car-interest age at the height of the post-war automotive explosion. Sadly not mechanically inclined, I have none-the-less been a car "nut" for well over five decades. And over that time We've owned and driven many fine automobiles.
Among them have been examples from Audi, Lincoln, Cadillac, BMW, and many others. This was at a time when their cost was not an obstacle. Life would go on forever... "Live for today!". Somehow, in that fifty-something years though, we have never owned a Jaguar.
Until now. A recent spinal injury meant that "My Darlin'" could no longer ride comfortably in her beloved, but jarring, SUV. Coincidentally, an old friend made me aware that his recently-deceased father's immaculate X-type was for sale. We drove it, she loved it, and we bought it.
So I jumped into the Jaguar around ten o'clock and took to the rain-slick streets in quest of our mid-morning repast. I turned off the sound system and tuned the air conditioning to "one bar" in order to fully appreciate the subtle growl of that Jaguar exhaust and the hiss of tires on wet pavement.
Broad thoroughfares, devoid of traffic on a Sunday morning, became my personal thruway. I reveled in the thump of seams in the roadway and the nimble, sure-footed confidence of the all-wheel drive. In tune with the car, I let myself notice the smooth but positive gear changes of the five-speed automatic. And as a signal light turned red for me, at sixty miles per hour, I quickly came to a gripping stop with neither skid nor waver.
Returning to the Jag from the restaurant, it's glistening water-spattered platinum elegance was undeniable. "Wow, that's a gorgeous little car", I thought. "And we paid far less for it than any we've owned".
Does our little kitten have a few minor problems? Of course it does - it's ten years old with over one hundred and twenty thousand miles on the clock. But say what they will, the Jaguar X-type is one helluva sweet ride. Especially on a dreary Sunday morning.
.
Let me share that I'm a child of the 1940s - which means that I was twelve years old in the mid 1950s. And that means that I was of car-interest age at the height of the post-war automotive explosion. Sadly not mechanically inclined, I have none-the-less been a car "nut" for well over five decades. And over that time We've owned and driven many fine automobiles.
Among them have been examples from Audi, Lincoln, Cadillac, BMW, and many others. This was at a time when their cost was not an obstacle. Life would go on forever... "Live for today!". Somehow, in that fifty-something years though, we have never owned a Jaguar.
Until now. A recent spinal injury meant that "My Darlin'" could no longer ride comfortably in her beloved, but jarring, SUV. Coincidentally, an old friend made me aware that his recently-deceased father's immaculate X-type was for sale. We drove it, she loved it, and we bought it.
So I jumped into the Jaguar around ten o'clock and took to the rain-slick streets in quest of our mid-morning repast. I turned off the sound system and tuned the air conditioning to "one bar" in order to fully appreciate the subtle growl of that Jaguar exhaust and the hiss of tires on wet pavement.
Broad thoroughfares, devoid of traffic on a Sunday morning, became my personal thruway. I reveled in the thump of seams in the roadway and the nimble, sure-footed confidence of the all-wheel drive. In tune with the car, I let myself notice the smooth but positive gear changes of the five-speed automatic. And as a signal light turned red for me, at sixty miles per hour, I quickly came to a gripping stop with neither skid nor waver.
Returning to the Jag from the restaurant, it's glistening water-spattered platinum elegance was undeniable. "Wow, that's a gorgeous little car", I thought. "And we paid far less for it than any we've owned".
Does our little kitten have a few minor problems? Of course it does - it's ten years old with over one hundred and twenty thousand miles on the clock. But say what they will, the Jaguar X-type is one helluva sweet ride. Especially on a dreary Sunday morning.
.
Last edited by timetraveler1; 09-29-2013 at 06:22 PM.
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JagJDB (09-30-2013)
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09-29-2013, 06:32 PM
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