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Somehow my “passions” don’t include tall, tippy and underpowered, but yours might if you’re of a generation who didn’t grow up dreaming of longer, lower wider and above all faster.
Hipsters sitting at a sidewalk cafe – swooning as a truck rolls past, indistinguishable from every other non-sporty vehicle of limited utility. Wow! How sleek and sophisticated is that truck depositing upscale people at the Opera?
Such is the power advertising has to change and even invent a culture. The German-accented people at a racetrack as Japanese trucks lumber past are all upset as though SUVs were what racing was all about. A vintage Porsche Spyder sits weeping in a corner. A Chrysler commercial shows off its 800 hp coupe blasting around city streets, but they have to attempt tying it to what they’re really selling – another luxo-truck boldly keeping pace as though filmed in Bizarro world where that was possible and where Trump is doing marvelous things.
Now that the bald eagle is in jeopardy again, perhaps we should substitute the jackass as the national symbol.
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