There's One Born Every Minute

Looks like some lucky Restonian found a sucker interested party for their old rustbucket wondercar.

This coming weekend, I'm headed to Reston, Va., to pick up a silver 1992 Corolla. From what I hear, the paint is still shiny, the interior is without peer, and the air conditioning blows positively Antarctic.

For most, it would just be a car. A daily driver. A commuter's reliable appliance. A means to an end.

Not for me.

This car, this 16-year-old base model Corolla, with crank windows, a factory tape deck, and 97,000 miles on the odometer, is a monument.

To be fair, the person who penned this wondrous ode is a college student. All we can say is we want some of whatever he's smoking.