Is it practical? No. There's almost no luggage space, visibility is pretty bad, and I wouldn't trust its handling in an emergency.
Reading this post was one of the last things I did before leaving the office tonight. I remember thinking "I hope none of us have to figure this out." Well, I figured it out tonight. I was coming off a main highway onto a side road that had a gas station. A young girl in a silver Honda pulled out in front of me, not looking my direction at all. I was just starting to accelerate on a downward grade. There was no way even a modern car with anti-lock was going to stop in time. I decided to speed up, I figured that even if she didn't look my way I'd get enough speed to get around her. She had to leave a driveway with a terrible bump that the D nearly bottoms out on so it would keep her slow. I'm happy to say that not only did she look and stop in time Red was able to handle the swing needed to get around her without as much as a tire squeal. Had someone been in that turn lane though I might have been hurt and I know Red would have been severely damaged.
And I NEVER want to do that again.
Red
VIN 4534
Born - October 1981
Brought back to life - July 2011
Why I own my DeLorean probably isn't even half as interesting as to why I've kept it all these years.
I honestly don't remember the first time that I ever saw one. My mother does as I looked out the side window as a small child and saw a brand-new one drive by us. The first one I ever remember seeing was on Interstate 5 northbound near Scott Rd. in Burbank in the summer of 1989. I remember how I just happened to look in the side mirror and saw the car slowly pull up, pass, and drive off into the distance. That was a day that I'll never be able to forget. It was the day that I learned what obsession meant.
Over the years as I became older and the obsession grew, many people tried to put me off to owning a DeLorean. Except one person, my father. Which was always odd to me because he was the furthest thing from being a "Car Guy". He detested sports cars as useless, and always said that a car wasn't meant for anything other than transportation or utility. I wasn't done with my saving up for a DeLorean until after he passed away. It was quite sad because I was so proud of the car and really wanted to show it off to him. It became even more bitter when I found out that he himself had wanted a DeLorean when they were new. He once saw a Lotus that he loved, but really wanted to buy a D. After I was born he had even gone down to Star Ford in Glendale to look at buying a new one, but couldn't because it was only a 2 seater. What was worse was that I found out later on that he had tried to go down and buy a used one for me. The man who hated sports cars had actually tried to buy one for me. Something that we could even have shared together, not just the car but the common interest itself. And I never knew. A week before my uncle passed away I visited him and he shared a story about how he had regretted selling a car to prove his love to a women he eventually wound up in a miserable shotgun marriage of 30+ years to. Once he too learned I wanted a DeLorean I learned that he as well had wanted one and never got to get one because of his wife. A week later he died. A week after that my own father died as well.
I originally set out to get a DeLorean because it was my dream car that I obsessed over. Later on it became a way to defy people. Both those who said I couldn't do it, as well as those who said I wouldn't be able to keep it once I had it. It was a mix of rebellion, ego, defiance, and just doing something for me. I also felt it was a car that also represented me on quite a few levels: Eccentric, temperamental, and different. Although since owning it it did almost get me killed once when the inertia switch malfunctioned, but it also has saved my life quite a few times when I wasn't driving as safely as I should have been. The handling is amazing on it. But I did also change my life. I embarked on my career because of this car, and even met my wife because of it.
Years later after I learned the stories about my father, and recollected the exchange I had with my uncle and the many other men who had frighteningly similar tales as well as the same encouragement to keep the car no matter what, the reasons why I have kept it have changed greatly. I have kept it because my owning a DeLorean isn't just my dream, but it turns out that in some ways it's the dream that others had for me as well. One day I'll have children, and I also think that leaving them a car as an heirloom is a helluva lot cooler than old furniture or jewelry. But even if they don't keep it, I'd just love for someone else to take over when I'm done to keep the car on the road. You can't take it with you, so in the end I like everyone else here is just the current keeper of our cars.
Last edited by DMCVegas; 02-10-2012 at 05:01 PM.
Reason: Spelling.
Everything that matters while driving is within my reach. I have found that exact "sweet spot" for seat positioning that offers me comfortable seating position, proper pedal actuation, clear visibility in all directions (well, as good as it gets in a DeLorean), and even a clear view of the gauges. The door isn't awkward to open or close, from inside or out. The shifter fits my reach perfectly. The switches and instruments are logical and intuitive to me, to the point I find myself looking for the headlights in the center console on other vehicles I drive, or reach for the parking brake in other vehicles with my left hand. Speaking of which, the parking brake in my particular example doesn't even impede my access or egress. It's like the car was tailor made, something I've never felt in any of the other vehicles I've driven or rode in.
It fits me so well, I'm certain it closely resembles my personal "fetal position". Come to think of it, I bet my ultrasound pictures show me in my DeLorean driving position.
Why I own my DeLorean probably isn't even half as interesting as to why I've kept it all these years.
I honestly don't remember the first time that I ever saw one. My mother does as I looked out the side window as a small child and saw a brand-new one drive by us. The first one I ever remember seeing was on Interstate 5 northbound near Scott Rd. in Burbank in the summer of 1989. I remember how I just happened to look in the side mirror and saw the car slowly pull up, pass, and drive off into the distance. That was a day that I'll never be able to forget. It was the day that I learned what obsession meant.
Over the years as I became older and the obsession grew, many people tried to put me off to owning a DeLorean. Except one person, my father. Which was always odd to me because he was the furthest thing from being a "Car Guy". He detested sports cars as useless, and always said that a car wasn't meant for anything other than transportation or utility. I wasn't done with my saving up for a DeLorean until after he passed away. It was quite sad because I was so proud of the car and really wanted to show it off to him. It became even more bitter when I found out that he himself had wanted a DeLorean when they were new. He once saw a Lotus that he loved, but really wanted to buy a D. After I was born he had even gone down to Star Ford in Glendale to look at buying a new one, but couldn't because it was only a 2 seater. What was worse was that I found out later on that he had tried to go down and buy a used one for me. The man who hated sports cars had actually tried to buy one for me. Something that we could even have shared together, not just the car but the common interest itself. And I never knew. A week before my uncle passed away I visited him and he shared a story about how he had regretted selling a car to prove his love to a women he eventually wound up in a miserable shotgun marriage of 30+ years to. Once he too learned I wanted a DeLorean I learned that he as well had wanted one and never got to get one because of his wife. A week later he died. A week after that my own father died as well.
I originally set out to get a DeLorean because it was my dream car that I obsessed over. Later on it became a way to defy people. Both those who said I couldn't do it, as well as those who said I wouldn't be able to keep it once I had it. It was a mix of rebellion, ego, defiance, and just doing something for me. I also felt it was a car that also represented me on quite a few levels: Eccentric, temperamental, and different. Although since owning it it did almost get me killed once when the inertia switch malfunctioned, but it also has saved my life quite a few times when I wasn't driving as safely as I should have been. The handling is amazing on it. But I did also change my life. I embarked on my career because of this car, and even met my wife because of it.
Years later after I learned the stories about my father, and recollected the exchange I had with my uncle and the many other men who had frighteningly similar tales as well as the same encouragement to keep the car no matter what, the reasons why I have kept it have changed greatly. I have kept it because my owning a DeLorean isn't just my dream, but it turns out that in some ways it's the dream that others had for me as well. One day I'll have children, and I also think that leaving them a car as an heirloom is a helluva lot cooler than old furniture or jewelry. But even if they don't keep it, I'd just love for someone else to take over when I'm done to keep the car on the road. You can't take it with you, so in the end I like everyone else here is just the current keeper of our cars.
What a great story. I too feel that I am just the caretaker for my car, and one day will gladly Give it to my son.
I bought my Delorean because of my father, He Joined with DMC as the managing Director of the plant in Dunmurry At this time I was heading of to college in the states, and my mother decided she had had enough of dad marriage to the business and she moved back to the states as well. As a result we really did not see much of dad after that. Skip ahead 20 odd years, I got married, my father returned for the wedding, and moved back in with my mother. It was at this point, I thought I might learn more about his days at Delorean, sadly he would not talk about it. He passed away a couple of years ago from a stroke, on the same day as JZD but 5 years apart, at the same age (creepy !) Any how I was hoping that purchasing the D might bring me closer to his memory, and something to share with my children.
Once I was in Kroger waiting in line to check out. I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and a young man in his twenties said "It's you ain't it?" "excuse me?" I said. He said "you're driving the Delorean aren't you?" " Why, yes I am." I said. He told me he was driving by, saw the Delorean in the parking lot, decided he would go in the store and pick out who the owner was ...
That never happened to me when I was driving a Corvette ... or a Pantera ... or a Jaguar ...
Edit: That young man probably had tapped everyone in the store before he got to me ... I like to think I was the first ...
Originally Posted by Farrar
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You were very lucky. Not something you want to experience in any car.
