The 2007 Mustang Shelby GT: $894.74 per additional horsepower

Carey and I went to check out the Mustang Shelby GT at lunch today. It's pretty, isn't it?

It carries a $17,000 premium, give or take, over a run-of-the-mill Mustang GT ($26,000 vs. $43,000). For that $17,000, you get this front:


This rear:


This side:


This tower brace:


This cold air intake:


This prettiness under the hood:


This prettiness on the dash:


...and 19 more horsepower. That's it. All of that costs SEVENTEEN THOUSAND DOLLARS. Cool stuff, to be sure, but that's a huge pile of money, folks.

My advice to the car-buying public:

• If all you're after is Mustang performance, buy an off-the-shelf GT and spend $8-10K at the speed shop, which will easily get you to 400-425 horsepower. You'll barbecue this car and have $7,000 in your pocket.
• If you just gotta have a Shelby, wait for the GT500 or GT500KR, with 500 and 540 horsepower, respectively. They'll be a bit dearer, but if you're seriously considering a $43,000 Mustang, that's not terribly important to you.

The 50 Worst Cars of All Time

Time has a feature so titled online.

They pick on one of the first cars I lusted after--the Aston Martin Lagonda (pictured, from the piece). But it's witty and engaging, with considerably more savvy than I'd expect from a mass-market automotive article. There are a few truly horrible cars on this list that are little-known to society at large, and their inclusion speaks well. It's heavy-handed in its political attack on SUVs, though (I don't like them either, but you can't beat a bit to death, guys).

A few favorite turns that stuck with me:

• On the Amphicar: "A vehicle that promised to revolutionize drowning."
• On the Triumph TR7: The carburetors had to be "constantly romanced."
• On the Yugo GV: "Malcolm Bricklin...wouldn't be satisfied until he had forced every American to walk to work."
• On the Pontiac Aztek: "Holy hell! This car could not have been more instantly hated if it had a Swastika tattoo on its forehead."

Go check it out. It's a good read.

The draw of the original

My dad bought a 1967 Buick Riviera when I was a baby, and he had it until I was 24 years old, when he sold it to me. I drove it daily for two years and had to sell it because it was costing me too much to keep it on the road. I had budgeted for the fuel mileage, which was abysmal, but I hadn't budgeted for a $200 thing here and a $300 thing there all the time. I was out of pocket a few hundred dollars every month above and beyond normal operating costs, and I just couldn't swing it.

Fortunately, it went to a good home. The guy who bought it pulled up in a '64 Wildcat, and from the way he was talking I knew he'd write me a check as soon as he got back from his drive in it. That's indeed what happened.

I'll talk about the Riviera at length sometime soon, but today I want to talk about a highly specific aspect of it: the left high-beam headlamp. It was original equipment. It had been on the car on the showroom floor, and there it still was. When I sold the car, that headlamp had soldiered on in its left inboard position, doing its job night after night, for 30 years.

There's no doubt the lamp's performance was subpar. It was yellow, noticeably weaker than the other side, and probably didn't do much for the driver to help spot a deer on a country road. Moreover, sealed-beam technology had come a long way in those 30 years. And yet, Dad wouldn't dream of replacing it, and neither would I. Why not? It was original.

What is the draw of the original? I mean, there's undeniably something special about a whole car that's 30 years old and still in operational condition, but what about a silly little thing like a headlamp? It's not like the Riv was all original. It had been painted, the engine had been rebuilt, the front seat had been replaced, and the like.

So why would we do that? I'm mostly about efficiency and effectiveness in the way I live my life, and there isn't a Luddite bone in my body. It wasn't pining for the "good old days," either; 1967 was a few years before I was born, so obviously I didn't have any corresponding memories. Yet I never had to explain to any car person why I left that headlamp in service. They just got it. It was the thing to do. I could have put a technically superior solution in easily, but it wouldn't have been as cool.

What is that coolness? Is it simply that it's a portable and easily applicable standard for comparing cars? Is it marveling at something so well-manufactured that it still performs acceptably? I don't know, but it's undeniable.