Now, don't get too excited about this one. While I did drive topless for a week last month, it was because of the convertible I had, not because I suddenly embraced my inner voyeur.
A few weeks ago, I got behind the wheel of a Mazda MX-5 Special Version. Kitted out in Newport Slate Metallic (betcha never heard of that colour, eh?) and looking as cool and speedy as any good Miata should, I dropped my top any chance I could – despite the +35-degree weather and blazing sunshine that had most hiding in their closed-windowed, air-conditioned cars.
Living where we do, the prospect of driving a convertible is something we yearn for, something we wait with baited breath and sunscreen for all never-ending, cold, horrible winter long. For those who own convertibles, the short, sweet months of summer are meant for freedom. They are the times one can truly enjoy the open road with the top down and the wind billowing free-blowing hair.
And it is those very short months that mean the number of convertibles on the road in Canada are quite small. Approximately 4,000 convertibles were sold in the entire country of Canada in 2010—and probably close to 75% of those were sold on the Eastern side, mainly Quebec. It really is hard to justify such a buy when the time we get behind the wheel is so limited.
And yet they're still out there, and here's why: they're fabulous.
Driving topless is thrilling (get your minds out of the gutter), it's liberating and makes driving that much more enjoyable. Familiar stretches of road take on a whole new level of excitement and sitting in traffic isn't such a bad thing—after all, you can work on your tan.
But here's the catch; I've discovered other motorists consider you to be a bit of a show-off in all your drop-top glory. Because they can't enjoy the blazing sunshine above, they look disapprovingly at you through their confined windows and cramped cabins. They especially dislike you when your music is loud and you genuinely seem to be enjoying yourself.
That's part and parcel of driving a convertible, though—and something I've come to accept and anticipate when I grab hold of the keys of a drop-top. It doesn't matter if it's a $20,000 convertible or a $200,000 convertible, you're still the object of much envy on the roads when it's bright and sunny out. And for those brief weeks when I do get to enjoy an open top, I dream about one day owning a convertible. Until I actually think about it.
In our climate, it's just not worth it. I'd get to drive my fab summer ride for maybe 5 months of the year (and the first and last would be with the heat on and a scarf), and of those 5 months, I'd probably only get 3 months worth of sunny days thanks to all the rain.
So, for anyone who looks at me with jealousy, envy, maybe even a tiny bit of hatred, I want you to think of the impracticality of a convertible for a second before your scowl grows any deeper and you burn a hole in the side of my sunhat.
A few weeks ago, I got behind the wheel of a Mazda MX-5 Special Version. Kitted out in Newport Slate Metallic (betcha never heard of that colour, eh?) and looking as cool and speedy as any good Miata should, I dropped my top any chance I could – despite the +35-degree weather and blazing sunshine that had most hiding in their closed-windowed, air-conditioned cars.
Living where we do, the prospect of driving a convertible is something we yearn for, something we wait with baited breath and sunscreen for all never-ending, cold, horrible winter long. For those who own convertibles, the short, sweet months of summer are meant for freedom. They are the times one can truly enjoy the open road with the top down and the wind billowing free-blowing hair.
And it is those very short months that mean the number of convertibles on the road in Canada are quite small. Approximately 4,000 convertibles were sold in the entire country of Canada in 2010—and probably close to 75% of those were sold on the Eastern side, mainly Quebec. It really is hard to justify such a buy when the time we get behind the wheel is so limited.
And yet they're still out there, and here's why: they're fabulous.
Driving topless is thrilling (get your minds out of the gutter), it's liberating and makes driving that much more enjoyable. Familiar stretches of road take on a whole new level of excitement and sitting in traffic isn't such a bad thing—after all, you can work on your tan.
But here's the catch; I've discovered other motorists consider you to be a bit of a show-off in all your drop-top glory. Because they can't enjoy the blazing sunshine above, they look disapprovingly at you through their confined windows and cramped cabins. They especially dislike you when your music is loud and you genuinely seem to be enjoying yourself.
That's part and parcel of driving a convertible, though—and something I've come to accept and anticipate when I grab hold of the keys of a drop-top. It doesn't matter if it's a $20,000 convertible or a $200,000 convertible, you're still the object of much envy on the roads when it's bright and sunny out. And for those brief weeks when I do get to enjoy an open top, I dream about one day owning a convertible. Until I actually think about it.
In our climate, it's just not worth it. I'd get to drive my fab summer ride for maybe 5 months of the year (and the first and last would be with the heat on and a scarf), and of those 5 months, I'd probably only get 3 months worth of sunny days thanks to all the rain.
So, for anyone who looks at me with jealousy, envy, maybe even a tiny bit of hatred, I want you to think of the impracticality of a convertible for a second before your scowl grows any deeper and you burn a hole in the side of my sunhat.