I had worked for my Grandfather for years prior to my 16th birthday without ever being paid. It was part of being in the "family business". On my 16th Birthday, for all of the years of indentured servatude, my Grandfather took me to Reed Draper Chevrolet on Euclid Avenue in Bay City Michigan to get me a 16th birthday present. When we got to the lot he said, "Go pick out any car you want." Since I was a sixteen years old, I of course ran over to the used car lot and found a 1963 Corvette Roadster in bright red, since at the time the US manufaturers were not making convertibles. About five months earlier I had bought a Triumph Spitfire with a blown head gasket from the neighbor for $200 anticipating getting my driver's license in a few months. Now I had two convertibles! Since my birthday is in the middle of the winter in Michigan the cars never really got used until the spring. Once Spring hit I would drive the Spitfire to school and saved the Corvette for weekend events since it really burned through the gas compared to the Spitfire.
As it turned out, the Spitfire was far more fun to drive than the massively heavy Corvette. The Spitfire had much better brakes was easier to work on and turned out to be a superior chick magnet for a 16 year old in Michigan, as there were many corvettes on the road, but nobody knew what a Triumph Spitfire was in 1976 when the big three ruled the roads. Most importantly, the girls thought it was cute.
So by that fall, I sold the Corvette and have been addicted to crappy, unreliable, oil leaking, quirkly little British cars ever since. All because I had the opportunity to compare through the eyes of a 16 year old.