The Magic of Mini
The Philosopher gets an assignment.
The tacky-poster-laced cubicles of the Publication were abuzz today, as my editor has just announced three staffers will be Chosen to do an overseas assignment. When we read the memo on the bulletin board, we all sort of looked at each other the same way Olympic ping-pong athletes would look at their antagonists. Around here, it’s almost mortal combat to see who will earn the privilege of being sent on such an assignment. Of course, it is always in a spirit of friendly, campy competition, but it still gives us a motive to impress the Editor-in-Chief more than usual.
The next day, three shimmering 2007 Mini Cooper S models were squatting on the tarmac behind our offices, looking like they had been yanked straight from the Italian Job. White bonnet stripes, driving lights on the grill, sport kit aerodynamics, magnesium-alloy wheels, etc. They aroused the 5-year old inside of me instantly. I wanted to jump right in and take one for a spin. But I gave it up for Lent, since I would be driving them in Ireland in a couple weeks anyway.
There is something simply magical and charming about the Mini Cooper. Sure, small pocket cars are a dime-a-dozen; just stroll through the showrooms of your local Honda, Toyota, and Mazda dealerships. Even Chevrolet jumped on the bandwagon and whipped up the Aveo and the Cobalt. Aspirin tablets on wheels are all the rage nowadays, since you’re made to feel guilty if your car gets less than 30 miles to the gallon. But none of the above have captured the hearts of millions like the Mini Cooper.
Why is that? Listen up, ladies and germs, the Tarmac Philosopher is about to speakenz.
The Mini Cooper has that distinctive automotive feature called character. It has the appearance of something special, something other than your ordinary people mover. Ever since the invention of the car, designers have strained to give their brainchildren character, yet only a few have become as noticeable as the Mini.
People enjoy looking at the Mini. It has balanced proportions; the butt doesn’t make the bonnet look big. It is not opulent; but not boring. It is all-around attractive. I hate it when people say the Mini is a “cute” car. “Cute” is a word I despise when used to describe a car. The word “cute” should be used to describe puppies, babies, and little white cottages. The Mini Cooper is not “cute”, it is “attractive”. There is something at the heart of the Mini’s design that people love: character.
So there I was, sitting in a cabin full of character, relishing the fact that in a fortnight I would be gleefully zipping around in a Mini Cooper S in one of the most beautiful countries on earth. There’s nothing in the motoring world like going on a 16 day adventure-drive with two of your buddies driving Mini Coopers. That is Webster’s Dictionary’s definition of fun.
Stay tuned for updates from the Green Isle.
The Philosopher gets an assignment.
The tacky-poster-laced cubicles of the Publication were abuzz today, as my editor has just announced three staffers will be Chosen to do an overseas assignment. When we read the memo on the bulletin board, we all sort of looked at each other the same way Olympic ping-pong athletes would look at their antagonists. Around here, it’s almost mortal combat to see who will earn the privilege of being sent on such an assignment. Of course, it is always in a spirit of friendly, campy competition, but it still gives us a motive to impress the Editor-in-Chief more than usual.
The next day, three shimmering 2007 Mini Cooper S models were squatting on the tarmac behind our offices, looking like they had been yanked straight from the Italian Job. White bonnet stripes, driving lights on the grill, sport kit aerodynamics, magnesium-alloy wheels, etc. They aroused the 5-year old inside of me instantly. I wanted to jump right in and take one for a spin. But I gave it up for Lent, since I would be driving them in Ireland in a couple weeks anyway.
There is something simply magical and charming about the Mini Cooper. Sure, small pocket cars are a dime-a-dozen; just stroll through the showrooms of your local Honda, Toyota, and Mazda dealerships. Even Chevrolet jumped on the bandwagon and whipped up the Aveo and the Cobalt. Aspirin tablets on wheels are all the rage nowadays, since you’re made to feel guilty if your car gets less than 30 miles to the gallon. But none of the above have captured the hearts of millions like the Mini Cooper.
Why is that? Listen up, ladies and germs, the Tarmac Philosopher is about to speakenz.
The Mini Cooper has that distinctive automotive feature called character. It has the appearance of something special, something other than your ordinary people mover. Ever since the invention of the car, designers have strained to give their brainchildren character, yet only a few have become as noticeable as the Mini.
People enjoy looking at the Mini. It has balanced proportions; the butt doesn’t make the bonnet look big. It is not opulent; but not boring. It is all-around attractive. I hate it when people say the Mini is a “cute” car. “Cute” is a word I despise when used to describe a car. The word “cute” should be used to describe puppies, babies, and little white cottages. The Mini Cooper is not “cute”, it is “attractive”. There is something at the heart of the Mini’s design that people love: character.
So there I was, sitting in a cabin full of character, relishing the fact that in a fortnight I would be gleefully zipping around in a Mini Cooper S in one of the most beautiful countries on earth. There’s nothing in the motoring world like going on a 16 day adventure-drive with two of your buddies driving Mini Coopers. That is Webster’s Dictionary’s definition of fun.
Stay tuned for updates from the Green Isle.
posted by J.L.D at 12:18 PM
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