Can I be a car guy without a car?
That’s the question I asked myself as I watched my 1968 Datsun roadster roll onto a Florida-bound car carrier. The tiny red sports car took the final space on the trailer, joining a late-1990s Corvette, a modern Jaguar convertible, a Lincoln crew cab pickup, a Kia Stinger and a Volvo SUV.
Mine was the oldest car on there. And the cutest.
“Mine.” Well, not anymore. The buyer’s money was in my bank account and now I was “a guy who used to own a…