I saw an older gentlemen get into his brand new Toyota Prius today. It made me wonder, after a brief conversation with him, if he had a former love affair with the late 60's American muscle cars. I'd bet a cup of coffee he did.
So then I got to wondering about all these people driving around hybrids. I doubt that they really gave up their love for the double-barrel rumble of a finely tuned holly carb on top of a finely tuned large block engine. My love affair with those iron beasts of the past has not ceased.
The reality is that it's an unrequieted love. Certainly the price of gas discourages me from loving them too closely. I watched that Prius pull out and away and realized that it's hard to love something so sterile as the new Toyota, and I've driven one! I find them oddly nice and simultaneously alien. There's no engine rumble -- in fact, one can barely tell that the engine is on! But the pocketbook doesn't cry as much when you hit the fuel station.
Maybe it all has far more to do with a fixed income than saving the environment. It does make me wonder if in another 50 years we'll see Prius's at classic car shows.