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  • Writer's pictureMichael Lenzi

#5 Kid You're Wicked


3136.4 miles covered since I purchased the GT3. 74, 924 miles in total. Precious few of those miles were dispatched with the stereo on. See, the stereo is not good. My little single speaker cassette/FM/AM portable beater that I use in my garage sounds far better. Hell, the speakers in my iPhone sound better.


The one record that sounds sweet on the "system" is the Faces-Good Boys...When They're Asleep. I must have played that cd 25 times so far. Every other cd I play sounds like the music is agitating a squirrel who is desperately trying to claw its way out the dash. I am only exaggerating a little here.


Because I can't listen to anything else, I have now begun to fixate on the Faces. In particular, Rod Stewart's damn voice. Holy shit what a gloriously shredded instrument it is. And it occurred to me that Rod the Mod and Ronnies Lane and Wood are a bunch of hooligans. Up for it in seemingly every way.


I have tried in vain to summarize to my friends why and how they are so righteous. The ones who know say "duh" and those who don't ask if the singer is the guy who sang "Hot Legs." I shared the track "Pool Hall Richard" with a friend who was not familiar with the charms of these ragamuffins. Here is what I said when he asked me why I liked them so much:


Rod the Mod, Ronnie Wood and Ronnie Lane, Ian McLagan. All champions. All rascals. They embellished and distressed the rock and roll template which they cribbed heavily from the blues and soul music of the American South, and elaborated on it with a love and devotion tempered by a sincere disregard for homage style genuflecting. (Perhaps a spiritual precursor for the Replacements.) They are genuine fakes who made me question the legion of disingenuous British and American copycats. Raucous good time boys with hearts of gold.


Listen to Pool Hall Richard for yourself!




And I can't help but think that this description somehow applies to my newly beloved '04 Speed Yellow GT3. It is a bold embellishment of the old air-cooled 911 aesthetics and values. It has a sincere disregard for your safety if you choose to live that way with your right foot. It wants to party at the drop of a hat yet will lovingly indulge your desire to half-step it around town if need be. A smooth balladeer, a quick change artist who can shape shift into a swashbuckling pirate at the flex of the right ankle.


Yeah, the car is great. Some will say "duh." Others will need to take a spin in it (literally) to get my drift! Haha. I will stop now.













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