I’ve just always had a love for cars growing up.
As a kid, I devoured car magazines—Car and Driver, Road & Track—and especially in my teenage years, I was heavily influenced by my brother-in-law, who had a deep love for MkIII and MkIV Toyota Supras. I started off reading Super Street, Sport Compact Car, Honda Tuning, and Modified Magazine, and that’s where the obsession really took root.
After high school, I got my first car—a Mazda Miata—and dove right into learning how to service and modify it. That’s when I really started to understand that cutting corners often means spending twice as much in the long run.
But once life got busy with work and responsibilities, I gradually stopped caring about new cars. It felt like manufacturers had stopped caring too—about quality, about consistency. Model names changed constantly, and not many of the newer cars held my attention.
I still remember when my 500E was first dropped off by the tow truck, dusty and rough from the trip out of California. At first, I thought I’d made a mistake. But after cleaning it up and finally getting to experience it properly, I knew I’d made the right call. It’s a truly special car—refined, low NVH, with a tactile, connected driving feel that modern cars just can’t replicate. And without today’s bloated safety design, like the massive A-pillars, it feels so much more alive.
When everything is working right, it’s incredibly rewarding. And even though my family still wonders why I’m drawn to something this old and needy—I know exactly why.
