Do we all remember Joe Walsh, oddly distorted, singing "My Maserati does one eighty-five/I lost my license, now I don't drive"? Yeah! Maserati--car of choice for law-breaking, booze-swilling rock-and-roll headcases! Yeah!
So, I pulled up next to one on the freeway the other day. Cool me, in my Purple Minivan of Evil, carting kidlets in the back seats, next to a Maserati. And I looked it over but good--it was a little ahead of me, so I had that excellent 3/4 view from the left rear fender.
And it was....boring. Just a four-door black sedan. A little lower, maybe, on the roofline curve, but basically the kind of car you can imagine your DAD driving. In fact, it looked EXACTLY like the black four-door Mercury sedan that parks next door. If it hadn't been for the giant chrome script letters spelling out M-A-S-E-R-A-T-I across the back, I'd never have looked twice.
Back in the 1980s, a bunch of designers (yeah, I'm talking to you Calvin Klein!) licensed their names for perfumes, bedding, towels, eyeglasses, etc., and found, to their horror that they didn't like the products! They wouldn't wear the perfumes or eyeglasses, would never sleep on the damn bedding, and didn't like their name being associated with such crap!
Are you listening, Maserati? Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it!
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