Y2K5SRT
Enthusiast
I had first seen your older sibling in a car magazine some twelve years ago. At age 26, it was but a dream that I could ever experience such a thrill. Six years later another magazine gave me my first glimpse of your fraternal twin. It was love at first sight. It would be another three years before I saw her up close. Motor Trend was doing a high speed shoot out in Las Vegas, which she simply dominated. I was truly in love, but could not have her. I snuck a grainy picture to remember the occasion. A wild series of events soon had me hopeful of courting you myself. You were even more beautiful than I could have hoped, but your fierce willpower had me a bit fearful of trying to own you.
I will never forget November 18, 1999. It was when we finally met. I was shy and very nervous, while you were strong and seemed to be smiling just a bit as I shuffled my feet around you. For just a brief moment, my family, who was right beside me, faded just a bit as I took in your incredible beauty under the lights of your birthplace. As we left through the factory doors together, I was drunk with euphoria. I had an eye for beauty and a lust for power, and you were the pinnacle of both.
After the first gentle "getting to know you" period, you began to show me your strengths. I tried to be gentle, but you would have none of that - you were built for speed. I thought I knew how to dance, but you showed me I was but an amateur. You first taught me line dancing, and dance we did. Soon we had Italian couples and those from the "old school" watching in envy as your power proved overwhelming and my ability proved to be just enough to keep up with you.
Next, you taught me the tango. Sudden twists and turns scared me, but you simply laughed and pulled me along. Once again, the exotic Italians and precise Germans could only watch in wonder at this incredible American that danced so well and looked so beautiful while doing it. You wanted to try a shorter floor with a few cones for fun. We did and it was yet another delightful experience. Even when we tripped on a cone and you got a small bruise on your lip, we could only smile about it.
The times we had together were incredible, but there was a dark cloud hanging over us. While your heart was strong, indeed, stronger than most, it had a defect we only found out about later. Your vitals were strong, but things were starting to slide. You started going through fluids at an alarming rate and reality came crashing home: You would need open heart surgery or even a complete transplant. While you seemed so strong, I knew you were hurting and made the decision to go ahead with the procedure.
We were brave, but I secretly worried well into the nights. I handed you off to the capable people at Woodhouse, knowing that you were in the best hands. I also knew that they would treat you with respect and not take you out dancing without me. I paced back and forth as I awaited word from the experts. The folks from Woodhouse understood my pain and were careful to update me as the procedure progressed. At first they thought it would require a transplant and I could only lament the loss of the heart I knew so well. Shortly thereafter, I received another call: Your heart could be repaired! I was ecstatic and could only await your quick return.
When you came back to me, it was love all over again. Your surgery left a few unexpected scars, but they were only on the surface. You seemed strong, but we agreed to take it gently as we exercised your rebuilt heart. Our drives through the country were relaxing and fun. We got to know each other all over again and it was as though you were never gone. Soon you were begging to go back to the dance, but we had to make sure you were ready. After logging over a thousand miles after our reunion, we knew it was time to check your vitals once more. I knew that my love would not be diminished no matter what the results. Your beauty and power were evident, even if we no longer won the contests.
As I brought you in to get your vitals checked, your old nemesis was just finishing up her own measurements. A new model, this Corvette seemed strong and was certainly beautiful. Her gutteral growl gave me just a moment of trepidation, but your eager response made me confident once more. As it turned out, her growl belied her numbers, as she measured up at 330 HP and 340 ft lbs of torque. As always, your beauty drew a crowd as the wires were hooked up. We went through the gears and you roared to life. I waited with baited breath until the technician looked over and smiled. You were back and as strong as ever!
Another season has arrived and our dance card is quickly filling up. We play with the Germans next month and resume our regular meetings with the Japanese. Your beauty and power will be sure to win them over. It will be just like old times.
Throughout my adult life, I have owned numerous cars, many of them "high performance" as well. For the first time ever, I have found myself being owned by the car instead. It is a wonderful feeling and I relish every moment. My thanks to Dodge and the folks from Woodhouse for making this relationship possible. See you guys (and gals) at a dance near you!
Chris
I will never forget November 18, 1999. It was when we finally met. I was shy and very nervous, while you were strong and seemed to be smiling just a bit as I shuffled my feet around you. For just a brief moment, my family, who was right beside me, faded just a bit as I took in your incredible beauty under the lights of your birthplace. As we left through the factory doors together, I was drunk with euphoria. I had an eye for beauty and a lust for power, and you were the pinnacle of both.
After the first gentle "getting to know you" period, you began to show me your strengths. I tried to be gentle, but you would have none of that - you were built for speed. I thought I knew how to dance, but you showed me I was but an amateur. You first taught me line dancing, and dance we did. Soon we had Italian couples and those from the "old school" watching in envy as your power proved overwhelming and my ability proved to be just enough to keep up with you.
Next, you taught me the tango. Sudden twists and turns scared me, but you simply laughed and pulled me along. Once again, the exotic Italians and precise Germans could only watch in wonder at this incredible American that danced so well and looked so beautiful while doing it. You wanted to try a shorter floor with a few cones for fun. We did and it was yet another delightful experience. Even when we tripped on a cone and you got a small bruise on your lip, we could only smile about it.
The times we had together were incredible, but there was a dark cloud hanging over us. While your heart was strong, indeed, stronger than most, it had a defect we only found out about later. Your vitals were strong, but things were starting to slide. You started going through fluids at an alarming rate and reality came crashing home: You would need open heart surgery or even a complete transplant. While you seemed so strong, I knew you were hurting and made the decision to go ahead with the procedure.
We were brave, but I secretly worried well into the nights. I handed you off to the capable people at Woodhouse, knowing that you were in the best hands. I also knew that they would treat you with respect and not take you out dancing without me. I paced back and forth as I awaited word from the experts. The folks from Woodhouse understood my pain and were careful to update me as the procedure progressed. At first they thought it would require a transplant and I could only lament the loss of the heart I knew so well. Shortly thereafter, I received another call: Your heart could be repaired! I was ecstatic and could only await your quick return.
When you came back to me, it was love all over again. Your surgery left a few unexpected scars, but they were only on the surface. You seemed strong, but we agreed to take it gently as we exercised your rebuilt heart. Our drives through the country were relaxing and fun. We got to know each other all over again and it was as though you were never gone. Soon you were begging to go back to the dance, but we had to make sure you were ready. After logging over a thousand miles after our reunion, we knew it was time to check your vitals once more. I knew that my love would not be diminished no matter what the results. Your beauty and power were evident, even if we no longer won the contests.
As I brought you in to get your vitals checked, your old nemesis was just finishing up her own measurements. A new model, this Corvette seemed strong and was certainly beautiful. Her gutteral growl gave me just a moment of trepidation, but your eager response made me confident once more. As it turned out, her growl belied her numbers, as she measured up at 330 HP and 340 ft lbs of torque. As always, your beauty drew a crowd as the wires were hooked up. We went through the gears and you roared to life. I waited with baited breath until the technician looked over and smiled. You were back and as strong as ever!
Another season has arrived and our dance card is quickly filling up. We play with the Germans next month and resume our regular meetings with the Japanese. Your beauty and power will be sure to win them over. It will be just like old times.
Throughout my adult life, I have owned numerous cars, many of them "high performance" as well. For the first time ever, I have found myself being owned by the car instead. It is a wonderful feeling and I relish every moment. My thanks to Dodge and the folks from Woodhouse for making this relationship possible. See you guys (and gals) at a dance near you!
Chris
