Why I love my Ferrari

Some time back, actually more like 2002 (why is time going by so fast these days) I bought a 360. Having managed to pull off a few good years financially and having always loved F cars, I blindly pushed ahead not allowing myself to think much about what I was doing and closed the deal on what was supposedly a “bargain”. Seems a prominent sports figure from Miami had been cut or traded and had to return his 30-day-old Modena. Within a few weeks a black 2001 F1 rolled off a trailer in front of my house – on the 4th of July no less.

Throughout my teens, my friends and I bagged countless hours bragging about the certainty of someday owning Daytona’s and Boxers. Truthfully however I had no first hand experience with a Ferrari. Never sat in one, didn’t know anybody that had one – which I guess all fueled the myth.

When I finally got into the car and drove it, I was breathless. On one hand it felt like I had accomplished a lifelong goal – I actually owned a new Ferrari, and on the other it felt so confusing on so many levels. It felt wasteful and excessive yet exciting and exhilarating. The fit and finish was better than my SL and seemed better than my Porsches but this was the legend? She smelled right, felt comfortable inside and yes, I even loved the sound of the “bark” when I hit the gas, but still somehow it didn’t measure up to what my steamy teenage dreams conjured up. Good car but once the excitement of the acquisition passed, she didn’t just naturally make my blood pump.

I also noticed immediately the “treatment” of casual observers. Some actually didn’t notice the car (I’m sure Rossa Corsa would have been different), but the ones who did mostly looked at me in disgust like there was a giant “dick-o-meter” in the sky and I was red-lining it. At first I hated that, eventually I got used to it. Of course there was also plenty of adoring fans surrounding the car and looking at the engine through the glass whenever I would come out of a restaurant.

The day came 20 months or so into ownership that I was just over it. She sat in the garage more and more. It had become just something I owned. Much of the time I didn’t even feel like driving it – so I knew she had to go. It took all of about 3 days to get rid of her as I wanted out and as luck would have it, I guess I did get a good deal.

Fast forward to Barrett Jackson 2005. Sitting in the bidders area with absolutely no desire or thought of buying anything (just wanted to see the excitement up close and personal like) when an 84 Boxer rolled up and seemed to be stalling at 35K. Without even thinking my hand goes up. 30 seconds later it’s all over and mine at 54,500??!! Same ****ty feeling of excitement and uh oh… what the hell did I just do? But it’s a Boxer after all. Surely one of the cars that I had created the Ferrari legend in mind with – was going to be worthy of its status.

10 days later and it’s rolling of the truck on a cold winter day in Chicago. No 4th of July this time. A half hour later I’m 4 blocks down the street looking for third and I thought I was going to throw up. I’m really going to have to start driving these things before I write the checks. It reeks, I mean reeks! Beyond old car smell (something I thought I’d left behind at 17), it smells like something died in there. It’s hot. Heat is pouring into the cabin from everywhere. It’s not-in-a-good-way noisy. It feels loose and wobbly. In short it’s an obvious pile of crap and where the hell is my 360?

Damn near in tears, I called the local Ferrari dealer and told them to tow the thing in and do something with it. I couldn’t even bear to drive it there. 3 weeks and one hell of a check later, they said they fixed most everything wrong; it’s good to go, and actually in fairly good shape for a Boxer. With an open mind, I drive down and pick it up. Somewhat of a better experience this time but I longed for my money back and vowed that I would never again let my youthful memories influence my adult behavior.

That was March of 2005 and I have virtually not driven the car since. I decided to take a somewhat different and alternative path. I would have the most fun I could possibly have under the circumstances. I am a creative and designer by trade and I understand the essence of design – and Ferrari design, so I decided to rebuild it. I’d pay homage to the design clues that have influenced and excited me, ignoring the ones I have been not so impressed with and build myself something that I liked. God forbid – a modded Ferrari!!

Those that have followed my thread in the Boxer section have seen that it’s been quite the undertaking for me. It’s occupied countless hours of mine and many others time and in fact has morphed into one of my best obsessions, and I have loved every minute of it.

We're now in the finishing stages of my project, and an odd experience happened the other day that I wanted to share. A 2004 360 had come into the shop for a minor repair, and was parked right next to my stall. I obviously continue to see what now seems like countless 360’s on the road - but I haven’t really examined one since mine left. I sat in it, studied the engine bay, walked around and languished over every inch, and then checked my pulse. Nothing. Then I went over and looked at my Boxer. I couldn’t breath.

Oh my God do I love this thing – and my youthful memories!!!
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Cheers fellow enthusiasts!