Drive a R<?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comiviera</ST1</st1:State> home tonight. Who cares if people think you’re younger, richer and more romantic than you really are? <O</O A<st1:State w:st="on"> Riviera has a strange effect on people. Simply looking at one makes your mouth water, your eyes open wider, and your heart beat faster. You grin admiringly when you notice the headlights, tucked behind shields that open with the touch of the headlight switch. You breathe harder when you turn loose some of those 325 horsepower. And that’s just what happens to the driver. Wait till you see the awe a Riviera inspires in p***erby! Amazing. Also attainable, for considerably less than you might suspect. (Before you go headlong for a Riviera, ask yourself if a firmer suspension and ***orted other sporting touches give you a twinge of anticipation. Yes? Ask your dealer about our new Riviera Gran Sport. The name alone is a hint of what’s in it for you.) Check with your Buick dealer soon. He may convince you you’re younger, richer and more romantic than thought you were. Wouldn’t you really rather have a Buick? Or so the ad reads. Maybe just media hype, forty-five years ago. But some of us have an old Riviera out in the garage. Do you still love her? Do you still take her out on the town, and let everyone see how beautiful she is? Have the years taken their toll, maybe she doesn’t sparkle as much now as way back when. Maybe a brunette sedan, beautiful yet reliable, brought you down to earth. Or a blonde Corvette, wild and crazy, took you to the brink of sanity, barely to survive. But tucked away, smooth and seductive, the redhead Riviera, waiting patiently. She’s not the fastest, and may not be the one you take to church on Sunday, but she’s always ready for a moonlight ride. I walk out to the carport, I turn on the lights. I run a hand lovingly across her fender. She needs paint, but it’s O.K., she’ll have a new dress by spring. I open the door, she lets me in as always. The same feeling washes over me, no matter how long I have left her alone, she’s always here, and I’ll never let her go. I feel the anticipation as I slide in the key. I twist it gently; but she pouts, and she doesn't respond immeadiatly; I’ve neglected her too long. But soon, she comes alive, unable to resist the bond formed the night we met. She responds eagerly when I caress the throttle. But alas, our tryst is short lived; we don't ride out into the night. Work beckons tomorrow, and I must bid my lady farewell, with promises of other nights, of splendor, of love.
Richard D, I posted my huh? reply before you edited your post and added a brochure picture. I kinda get it now. I love the looks of the 63-65 Rivieras as well as the 59 El Camino. Had the photo been posted when I made my first reply I would not have said anything. There's nothing wrong with "loving" your ride, whether it's a car, or a woman.......
Richard, I understand your p***ion about the Riviera But once you ' opened the door ' man, you lost me I think you need to be ' sliding your key ' into something warmer Jim
Richard, same ad hangs framed in my shop, although the car is seafoam green. The same color my beautiful 65 was.... And I loved it. Someone else loves it now. I'm happy with my current ride, but if I ever get a chance, I'll have another one.
dude, i love my car, i know guys that love thier cars, but i gotta say, i really think you LOVE your car..........................you need a cold shower! (and stop eyeing those tailpipes)
The Jalopy Journal
