Wrangler Genes

IN HIS JUNE 2016 COLUMN, MY esteemed and always insightful colleague Jamie Kitman, while opining about what he sees as the curious I product strategy of Fiat Chrysler Automobiles, asked, “What happens when every yahoo who ever wanted a four-door Wrangler either has one or soon will?”

- Arthur St. Antoine

Yahoo? Now, I’ve been called a few names in my time, but to be smeared by association with a fourth-rate Internet company? Well, Jamie, I guess you and I won’t be sitting together at this year’s All-Stars dinner.

I’ll admit it: I’m a yahoo. I love the Jeep Wrangler. Always have. In the late 1990s, before the arrival of the four-door Unlimited, I owned a soft-top TJ. Yes, I still had hot test metal regularly rotating through my garage—Porsches, Ferraris— but none of them made me forget about my Jeep. That’s because the TJ proved to be an almost perfect Los Angeles vehicle—and driving it was a non-stop party.

As soon as I got my new Jeep home, I dropped the soft top and didn’t put it up again for three years. If it got cold, I’d put on a leather jacket. If I felt a surge of exhibitionism, I’d take off the doors. Rain? Never much of an issue here in Socal, but if it did—who cares? I’d get a little wet and my cigar might go out. Otherwise, driving in a warm drizzle is actually quite lovely.