Ferdinand Porsche, father of the purest sports cars ever made, must be spinning in his grave.
His iconic roadsters, along with makers of other classic two-seaters, now offer (gasp) optional automatic transmissions.
Gone for those opters is the thrill of shifting gears to slow or slide effortlessly through curves as unmuffled exhaust pipes roar in approval.
Behind the bastardization, of course, are women who simply want to look pseudo-skanky while driving to the supermarket at or under the speed limit.
They never burn carbon from the clogged plugs by goosing their altered BMWs, Ferraris, Nissan Zs, Miatas, Lotuses, Aston Martins, Lexuses, Mercedes-Benzes, Lamborghinis, 911s, Jaguars, Alfa Romeos and Maseratis.
Monthly trips to repair shops for expensive tuneups accomplish that chore. After all, if you worry about maintenance costs, you can't afford to abuse a neutered sports car.
At least you'll never see so-called sports cars with automatic transmissions racing in Formula One or Grand Prix venues or chasing villlians in James Bond movies.
They'll instead be seen collecting dust in country club parking lots while their chubby owners exercise in golf carts. (8 JULY 2012)
