Timing and Tuning

As a professional musician, I am consumed with the technical and the sublime. Precise timing and accurate tuning are essential. As are beautiful lines, expressiveness, and passion. The mind must be focused and uncluttered. Life’s worries must wait.

Maybe that’s why I like my Alfa.

I saw my first 164 while buying my first Mercedes. I had never seen The Graduate. I don’t know that I could pronounce Alfa Romeo correctly. I was ignorant. Yet, I had a certain knowing, like I had owned one in a previous life.

Since that day in 1991, my attention occasionally diverted to that car. I would see one on the road. As my eye glanced my soul lingered. Then, three weeks in Italy in 1993 and my second Mercedes purchase in 1994 brought me in closer contact. By this time, my ignorance had abated. I had read about the marque. I had rented The Graduate. I invited my wife to step inside a used 164.

Less than one second in the passenger’s seat and she was convinced. She would never have anything to do with it.

Damn! Being a harpist, I need a station wagon (preferring to steer clear of SUVs and minivans), hence the Mercedes. Three family cars were not in the offing at that time

But over time she changed her tune. Looking to replace her aging Integra, we evaluated some Jettas. Next to the Jettas were four 164s lined up together, looking for all the world like they were talking to us.

Kathryn asked for a test drive. I was stunned and speechless, but kept my composure.

It was tired and purple. She put the poor geezer in gear and firmly pressed the magic pedal while wheeling out of the lot. We were gracefully and immediately whisked to the first light. Perma-smile set in as the sedan velcroed us to the road at any speed. Our eyes met and we knew.

We decided not to buy anything.

One fine morning, I decided the time was right. On Friday I spied a beautiful specimen at our friendly neighborhood Alfa dealer. On Saturday we drove it. It was an automatic. It was overpriced. And they were totally unreasonable about being reasonable with us. Thank you.

Annoyed and motivated, I was aloft in a 737 the following Saturday to inspect a well-preserved maroon 5-speed. It was recently out of warranty and suffering from lack of use and the 70,000-mile malaise. It was just what I wanted. Beautiful, cheap and fast.

The ride home from New Jersey was glorious. My new charge gained more power each day. It was the most solid European car I had ever experienced. It was packed with emotional content, rhythm and timing. It was organic. Musical. Scarlatti was on the stereo, It took a while for me to make the connection. Scarlatti and Alfa are related, and I was part of the family,

I thought of all those car magazine articles. Words like "muscular" and "sure-footed" seemed trite. It just is. Working a rhythm with the car and Pennsylvania’s mountain roads, I was at one with the Absolute. Italian passion meets Zen.

Over the past year and a half I’ve replaced most of the worn out parts and fixed most of the petty little problems. Our Alfa has been good to us.

I read a column in Autoweek recently. He said he fell in love with a car but didn’t buy it because of the possible marital problems. What a weenie. Yes, our car brings us marital difficulties; we constantly fight over who gets to drive it.

And Sarah, my six-year old, is fast becoming my best friend. As we head toward the garage, on to another outing, she is likely to say, "Daddy, let’s take the Alfa."

Let’s.