I came across this Alfa in the parking lot of the local hardware store. Given the current Covid-19 crisis, probably stocking up on supplies for the Apocalypse. Given the looks of this Alfa, seems like apocalypses are something the owners have perhaps…planned for? But who would plan for the Apocalypse in an Alfa?
If I was going to pick a vehicle to make my way through the Apocalypse, an Alfa 2000 sedan would seem to be low on the list of possible choices. I mean, there are the obvious choices like an International Scout, or a Dodge Power Wagon, there are the quirky choices like a Volvo 240/140/Amazon, or maybe a Rambler American, there are classic choices like a 1957 Chevy, or maybe a 50’s Oldsmobile, there are the pre-war choices, like maybe a Model A or a T or Ford V8, or a Stovebolt 6, or moving upscale maybe a Packard or even a Duesenberg, there are the “movie choices” like maybe a 1959 Cadillac Eldorado Convertible, a “Bullitt” Mustang, a Dodge Charger, a Pontiac Trans Am, or maybe even a Peterbilt 281.
But an Alfa?
Alfa’s are sporty, they’re cool, they look good in red, they look good in yellow, they look especially good in green. They make one want to put on your sunglasses and your turtleneck, or maybe a Hawaiian shirt with the top buttons open and beautiful SO by your side, navigating the backroads to a great picnic spot overlooking a beach on the Italian Riviera. Alfa’s are for the beautiful and the young or the young-at-heart, for when the sun is shining, the wine is chilled, and the times are good.
Alfas don’t seem to be the first choice to ride through the Apocalypse in, at least to me. First, it’s not like they are known for being a paragon of reliability. Now I know that’s probably more the function of shaky electrics and the poor maintenance habits of your average American consumer, than anything inherent in the design – the Twin-Cam Alfa motor is a hearty and strong beast, for example, and the Giulia was a successful and long-lived design with many admirers. But still, I would wonder if the owner, we’ll call him or her “Mad Massimo” or “Mad Massima”, might spend too much time by the side of the road trying to sort out the fuel injection, or perhaps trying to synchronize the dual carburetors (not available in America, but possibly retrofitted). At least in this Alfa the radio reception has some chance of being good, so one could still tune in to the local Jazz station, if it still exists.
In order to make this Alfa further suited to the Apocalypse, the interior has been fitted with some snazzy seat covers made from what looks like burlap-bag material. Scratchy, but probably pretty durable.
The interior looks nice, with apoca-practical manual roll-up windows, the seats look like they are in good condition, and Mad Massimo appears to be keeping up with the news.
Plenty of room in the trunk for apocalpytical supplies, and the back seat looks like a great place for little Massimos or Massimettes – or space for picking up a hitchhiker who knows where one can get ahold of some more gasoline.
Mad Massimo sure does have a nice cockpit for navigating through to the other side. He/she didn’t opt for the “A” version with the automatic, which is probably for the best, given the circumstances – wouldn’t want to be standing by the side of the road trying to adjust the carburetors AND find a transmission seal leak. Really, the interior does look to be in really nice shape. In this Apocalypse, the Alfa is a sleeper, much nicer on the inside than the outside – though not bigger on the inside than the outside, that would be a Tardis, which might be the best choice to ride through the Apocalypse in.
It wouldn’t behoove Mad Massimo to have some snazzy rims, or even snazzy wheelcovers, in the journey through the end times. Some nice, clean steel wheels will do just fine.
One would not expect Mad Massimo to be a “joiner”, hence this sticker is a bit of puzzle. It turns out that Scuderia Non-Originale is a car club with the following promise: “The group’s founding directors promise to maintain their original commitment to hold no meetings, publish no newsletters, and collect no dues or fees of any type”. We were right, Massimo is not a joiner.
Mad Massimo means business. He/She’s made his choice. What’s your choice to ride through the apocalypse in?