Everything. Literally everything.
April 15, 2017
58 Degrees, Overcast
This past Saturday was my first visit to Cars and Coffee since an unseasonably warm weekend in February. I usually attend more regularly, but my wife gave birth to a remarkably handsome and brilliant baby boy on March 12th , so even though the world’s newest car enthusiast is usually sleeping (finally) between 5 and 8 am, jaunts to Great Falls were on hold. But it was set to be a beautiful Saturday morning and since I was awake anyways, I decided to go.
“I’m going change you and swap your PJs and give you a kiss and put you back down. I’ll be back in a jiff,” I said to him at 4:45 on Saturday morning. “I’ve got to go look at cars for a few hours.” He understood.
I arrived at around 5:45 and the first thing I saw was a white Lamborghini Countach 5000 Quatrovalvole with wing glowing in the darkness. I’m still not sure what model year it was, but it had to be post-1985. That was the year they introduced the QV. What I did know was it was built for the North American market, easily identifiable by big chunks of vulcanized rubber hot-glued to the bumpers and a Bosch K-Jetronic fuel injection system. And honestly, thank god because trying to wrap my head around tuning six carburetors gives me the sweats. I’m eyeballing the car, chatting up the proud mustachioed owner and thinking to myself, “Why did they upgrade this engine for 1985? They had just issued the LP Turbo S in 1984.”
Enter parking lot left: A bright red Ferrari 512 BBi.
“Oh yeah. That’s why.”
The details of the 512’s relationship to the Countach are complex, storied, and completely lost on me. I tried to teach myself, but Wikipedia was no help and I’m just not one of those guys with decades of Motor Trend Magazines stacked in the attic.
But what everyone knows is these two cars competed directly with the Porsche 930 for 80s supercar domination and that for the 1985 model year, the QV gave Lambo the leg up. I think the BB is the better-looking car. Sorry, 10-year-old me, but it’s true and we knew it. I didn’t get a chance to talk to the owner, but I assume he has a moustache. Decades later and Ferrari still won’t allow 512s or 308s to be sold to someone without a robust ‘stache. In the bill of sale, it’s called the Tom Selleck clause and it is unflinchingly rigid.
Just when I thought my 80s Italian supercar extravaganza was over, I see tucked away on the side lot a red Ferrari Testarossa. This car was the spiritual successor to the 512 and the earthly overlord of the Countach. It was faster, smoother, cleaner, more modern, less absurd, and the car is so quintessentially 80s, it acts as its own moustache. No need to grow your own.
Little known fact, the Testarossa took over as the official Miami Vice Ferrari after Sonny Crockett’s Daytona Spyder (which was really just a replica built on top of a Corvette chassis) was hit with a stinger missile in season 3. Even lesser known fact, Don Johnson wanted to grow a full moustache for season 4 but producers said he couldn’t because it wasn’t right for the character. That’s why they had to give him a Testarossa instead of a 512. Damn Tom Selleck clause.
I returned home a little before 8 and my wife and baby were still sleeping. He needed to be changed again, so I scooped him up and brought him to the changing table. I stared at him (I stare at him a lot) and I’m not sure if it was the lighting or the exhaustion or what, but I swear I saw a bit of fuzz above his tiny lip. Not a lot, but enough for me to rest easy knowing I had a healthy, happy baby boy who will one day be qualified to purchase a 1980s Ferrari 512. Phew.