Any Futurists out there?

[Fogey]

Here's why I'm asking. My daughter will be delivering my wifes and my first grandaughter in about a month. I would like to think that when she is 18, I could give her my 2011 SS/RS. Just thinking about what the next 20 years might mean in terms of high octane fuel availability, parts for a muscle car in what may be an era of hybrids, electrics, etc. Just ruminating.

[1BADLS3]

I think that it's safe to say you may not even know if she will want the car when she's 18--so I'd spend the next (x) number of years enjoying the car for yourself, and if she's around and wants it when she's old enough, you'd be willing to give it to her.

[mhood]

Flying cars! Walt Disney promised me flying cars.

[angie7]

Originally Posted by mhood

Flying cars! Walt Disney promised me flying cars.

And hover boards! Where the h*ll r the hover boards!!!!

[daveagogo1]

Anything is possible. My girls will be 8 very soon so i'm only about 7yrs from them learning to drive and one simply loves the car. It very well could end up being one of my girls very first car.

[Russo]

i would believe that we dont have 20 years left...

[Raptor626]

In 18 years I have a terrible feeling that gasoline is going to be astronomically expensive. As far as parts go, with the shitload of Camaro's out there, I don't think that's going to be an issue.

As a side note, my friends and I used to joke around saying that in the future car guys are going to be touting and bragging about voltage instead of hp. Also, future car guys would compare how QUIET their exhausts are instead of how loud we think they should be. The winner will be the one with the lowest decibels. Lmao

[todrules]

Here's a little story written by some "futurists" who call themselves Rush:


My uncle has a country place that no one knows about.
He says it used to be a farm, before the Motor Law.
And on Sundays I elude the Eyes, and hop the Turbine Freight
To far outside the Wire, where my white-haired uncle waits.

Jump to the ground as the Turbo slows to cross the Borderline.
Run like the wind, as excitement shivers up and down my spine.
Down in his barn, my uncle preserved for me an old machine,
For fifty-odd years to keep it as new has been his dearest dream.

I strip away the old debris that hides a shining car.
A brilliant red Camaro from a better, vanished time.
I fire up the willing engine, responding with a roar.
Tires spitting gravel, I commit my weekly crime...

Wind-
In my hair-
Shifting and drifting-
Mechanical music-
Adrenalin surge...

Well-weathered leather,
Hot metal and oil,
The scented country air.
Sunlight on chrome,
The blur of the landscape,
Every nerve aware.

Suddenly ahead of me, across the mountainside,
A gleaming alloy air-car shoots towards me, two lanes wide.
I spin around with shrieking tires, to run the deadly race,
Go screaming through the valley as another joins the chase.

Drive like the wind, straining the limits of machine and man.
Laughing out loud with fear and hope, I've got a desperate plan.
At the one-lane bridge I leave the giants stranded at the riverside.
Race back to the farm, to dream with my uncle at the fireside.

[gml1998]

Originally Posted by todrules

Here's a little story written by some "futurists" who call themselves Rush:


My uncle has a country place that no one knows about.
He says it used to be a farm, before the Motor Law.
And on Sundays I elude the Eyes, and hop the Turbine Freight
To far outside the Wire, where my white-haired uncle waits.

Jump to the ground as the Turbo slows to cross the Borderline.
Run like the wind, as excitement shivers up and down my spine.
Down in his barn, my uncle preserved for me an old machine,
For fifty-odd years to keep it as new has been his dearest dream.

I strip away the old debris that hides a shining car.
A brilliant red Camaro from a better, vanished time.
I fire up the willing engine, responding with a roar.
Tires spitting gravel, I commit my weekly crime...

Wind-
In my hair-
Shifting and drifting-
Mechanical music-
Adrenalin surge...

Well-weathered leather,
Hot metal and oil,
The scented country air.
Sunlight on chrome,
The blur of the landscape,
Every nerve aware.

Suddenly ahead of me, across the mountainside,
A gleaming alloy air-car shoots towards me, two lanes wide.
I spin around with shrieking tires, to run the deadly race,
Go screaming through the valley as another joins the chase.

Drive like the wind, straining the limits of machine and man.
Laughing out loud with fear and hope, I've got a desperate plan.
At the one-lane bridge I leave the giants stranded at the riverside.
Race back to the farm, to dream with my uncle at the fireside.

Awesome song by an awesome band