Ferrari 400 Automatic And The Pillow Case

Had to get a few minor adjustments to my Alfa yesterday. Recently had four new Pirellis installed (and boy are they better than the cheap tyres I had on her before). Also, finally had passenger window repaired. After I repaired it the first time it went bust I thought it better to let a professional handle it this time. Besides, I drove her around this summer and had to use a strong rubber grip in order to get the window up and down. Also went ahead and had a switch installed next to the battery (in the boot) that allows me to simply disconnect the battery when I put her in the garage over winter. And be assured, winter is coming to Colonia sooner than anybody thinks. Hopefully the days of having to replace the battery every frickin’ spring are over (the analogue clock under the dashboard doesnt help either). I also turned in some old extra wide rims that came with the Alfa when we bought her from some dude in Munich about ten years ago. Those wheels, although they looked good, didn’t play well with the rear-end axel mounts. The extra width caused the mounts to over strain when turning. Luckily I was able to find some used, in great condition, original alu Spider wheels on the Interwebnet. But that’s not what I wanted to worst-write about today, dear worst-reader. Today we’re gonna post about what we saw at my favourite Alfa garage. Every time I go there there is some form of Italian super car waiting in the wings. The lead mechanic of the place is some kind of guru Ferrari specialist. At the least when you greet him he doesn’t greet you back–and that seems fitting. And the guy who owns the garage is obsessed with Italian cars all the same. The showroom is always full of 60s and 70s Giulias and GTAs and, of course, my beloved Spiders. Again. Anywho. Although I’m not much of Ferrari fan, I have to admit whenever one is parked in the garage I have a quick look. That said, there was a real treat in the garage yesterday. A Ferrari 400 Automatic. I had never seen one up-close. It’s a two-door sedan that for some ungodly reason the Italians thought they should build in order to satisfy the needs of ageing Ferrari nuts who wanted a vehicle to take a party of four to the opera. In fact, after gawking at the luscious interior I couldn’t take my eyes off the engine: 4.8 litre, 12 cylinder, six carburettors. But eventually I did take my eyes off it only to stare for a few moments at the material that lines the inside of the hood. What the hell is that, I thought after poking at it with my left index finger. I couldn’t believe how thick and stable it was. It felt more like a thick, leather pillow that the engine could rest on–if the car were turned up-side-down. But then I thought of those films where a killer approaches his sleeping victim in the middle of the night. The killer grabs a thick pillow and puts it over the muzzle of his gun. He then fires and we see the legs or perhaps a hand jolt with a last signal of life. Then we see the black stained pillow in the after math of unleashed death. Blood seeps out from somewhere underneath it. Yeah. That’s what I thought about while touching the noise reducing material under the hood of an absolutely gorgeous Ferrari. Rant on. -tommi