I was away on a family trip to Nova Scotia last week, and spotted this just by our hotel.
Yes, a '67 Mustang in blue with the white racing stripe. Note the dice hanging from the rear view mirror and the vanity plates. You probably couldn't find a better example of what this is if you called the Midlife Crisis Mail Order Shop and asked them to send you the most popular thing in their catalogue.
I could make fun of the owner all day, but the fact remains that this is a beautiful car - the most beautiful container the Ford V8 ever came in, done up right, with the proper tires and everything. I don't want to get all sentimental, but this is the automotive equivalent of a Golden Lab puppy heading out for its morning walk - brimming with adorable energy and built to charm every halfway normal human being it encounters. I mean, look at it:
What could possibly make me like it more? Oh, hey - what's that on the right side of the picture? Go ahead - click on it. Take a look.
Is that an EV charging station? Why, yes it is! That nasty poison-belching old muscle car is taking up a parking spot that could have been occupied by a saintly, virtuous electric vehicle. Why, sure it is - except that I didn't see a single EV on the streets of Halifax the whole time we were there, never mind along the roads of the South Shore or the Annapolis Valley, where there's no shortage of old hippies, but even they don't want to run out of juice between Chester and New Ross with a load of fresh mackerel in the trunk and nary a charging point in sight.
Still, that Mustang shouldn't be there, but - oh, look at the little thing. How could I ever get mad at you, Mustang?
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