A strange form of lust

Saw this fine old Mercedes sports car at my garage when I was out snagging chicken khatti rolls for Mary's birthday lunch today. We had just decided that I wouldn't drive out to the sushi place because there's no way to mentally justify driving 8 miles to get food when the whole point of living where we do is you can walk. And here I am vaguely lusting after an old car.

I not rarely have this internal conflict, knowing that I'm basically post-car but nonetheless getting fired up about something smooth and elegant with four wheels. It says a couple of things about me, I know. First off, I'm getting old, if this kind of car gets me worked up. It's like a Mr. frickin Magoo car. Secondly, that despite my atheist "East Coast elite" ways, I'm downright pious at times.