I see a lot of comments dogging on Corvettes (& their owners) here.
And prior to having kids, Corvette would have been my answer, too (that, or every 2005+ Mopar). They’re every-damn-where here in the US south. And you can’t go to a cars & coffee without tripping over half a dozen “1 of 15″ boomer boards sitting in front of over-polished, under-driven, swirl-marked, mundane-ass, rental-spec C7s and C8s.
However, for some strange and inexplicable reason, my kids (both under 10) absolutely love Corvettes. All of them. From the depth of malaisey-awfulness that was the post-refresh C3, to the (IMO) pinnacle of Corvette-ness, the C6 Z06.
Seeing a Corvette is an event for them. They’ll yell and point and get excited. All the while I’m wondering to myself “what am I doing wrong as a parent?”
But then I recalled a time when I was about their age that, for some strange and inexplicable reason, I was a 3rd gen Camaro fanatic. The walls of my room were a shrine to all things 3rd gen Camaro, and I absolutely loved them. All of them. From the lowliest, poverty-cap wearing Iron Duke-powered base model, to the most IROC’d IROC that ever T-topped.
Seeing a 3rd gen Camaro was an event for me. I’d yell and point and get excited. All the while, my dad – a Mustang guy since the 60’s – must have wondered the same thing I do when my kids freak out over a Corvette.
So now, when I turn the corner into my local Krispy Kreme parking lot on a Saturday morning and gaze upon the acres of fiberglass and other people’s poor choices, I’m not filled with the existential dread I once was. Instead, I look forward to my kids getting genuinely excited about cars. Even if the cars in question are Corvettes.
Oh uh the question? My answer is none. Each person who brought their car to the show is someone who, at least briefly, wanted to bring joy to others through their shared automotive enthusiasm.
Except Mustang owners. Screw those guys. (I say this as an S550 Mustang GT owner).