> Does everyone agree? I wouldn't trust the Sterling over our Acura on a cross
> country drive any day, but the Acura is bland compared to the elegant and
> couth Sterling.
The first Sterling I saw was on a flat-bed tow truck, going through the
Santa Monica Mountains of southern California (oh, you're from Fullerton;
it was Sepulveda Pass at Mulholland, heading from the Valley into Westwood,
just entering the tunnel to be specific :-). I was driving my orange M.G.
Midget with the semi-autocross suspension. I pulled around to pass the
truck and noticed scrawled across the windscreen, "OIL LEAK--DO NOT DRIVE."
Leave it to Rover, I thought. They can make even a Honda motor leak oil.
But I'd like to turn the tables on you, if I may, and if I can make it
clear that I'm not in any way trying to be antagonistic in asking this
question. What is it about the Sterling that makes it preferable to
the Acura -- and conversely, what makes the Acura so much more trust-
worthy on a cross-country drive? You *know* they're the same car, yes?
What's the difference -- or in what ways are they *not* the same car
(other than having been assembled in two separate island nations once
defended against continental invaders by the apparently supernatural
intervention of a terrific storm :-)? What is it about the Sterling
that makes it so British (other than oil leaks)? Why is it more
British than, say, my 280ZX which is basically an updated GT6+ with
a larger SOHC engine and rear disc brakes, or my 1963 Volvo 122S which
has SU carburetors and Lockheed brakes? (And yes, as a matter of
fact, I *did* buy both of those cars because of their resemblance to
British cars, at least partially.)
> What are everyone else's thoughts on this subject of quality vs.
> emotional appeal?
Here's an answer from a couple of months ago, a good thing as I don't
have time to descant on this, my favorite topic, just at present (hell,
I don't have time to finish making the new motor in my M.G. do the loud
thing).
[. . .]
You have to find a comfortable level of "wrong" that you can live with;
if you can't find a level that's comfortable, well, that's why Toyota
and Nissan have been so successful in the market that the British
invented and used to own. If the mere idea of a "comfortable level of
'wrong'" makes your head come to a point, well, that's why they've sold
over 250,000 Miatas in about three years.
For most of us, little niggling things don't make us curse the cars.
Yes, there's always going to be something non-concours about any
British car that gets driven. There's wear, oxidation, heat cycling,
vibration, countless ways that time and entropy have their way with the
parts on *any* car, particularly on a car that's 20+ years old. Some
failures can be ignored (oh, it's just THAT). Some failures require
attention. Most failures can be, if not avoided altogether, then at
least forestalled by becoming an expert on the car you have. But
becoming an expert means a lot more than memorizing the 0-60 times,
JD Powers index, and Consumer Reports listing on a car. Becoming
an expert hurts. Not everyone thinks it's worth it, and that's a
personal decision that no one can impose on you.
For me, I think owning a British car has been of tremendous psychological
value for several reasons. First of all, it's taught me not to have
unreasonable expectations. Second, it's taught me that patience and
rational thought will solve more problems than yelling, pitching a fit,
cursing and throwing tools across the garage. And third, and perhaps
most important, it's taught me about responsibility. That's a hard
lesson, and one I probably can't begin to outline here. You learn
responsibility, in my experience anyway, by sitting in a car that won't
start because of something you did wrong, and by driving a car that runs
solely because you were the one to set it right. You can't learn
responsibility by writing checks. You learn it by walking along the
side of a deserted highway, by letting hot oil drip into your hair,
by finding out that spilling gasoline into an open cut doesn't hurt
near as badly as you'd expect it would.
When a British car works, it works because of the sheer determination,
craftiness, study, sweat, and insuperable will of its owner. The
ego gratification that comes from being able to make these things go
is a powerful drug for people who are susceptible to it. Not everyone is.
I think people on both sides of this great divide view those on the
other side as being slightly deficient in some way. And I think both
sides are probably right.
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