Here at CarEnvy we have incinerated considerable resources examining the human condition. We do this to better serve our readership through understanding and then acceptance, rather than mockery and physical abuse. Through exhaustive research we have discovered, among other character flaws, the basic problem with most people is that they lack vision.
Vision is the ability to see beyond the constraints of the unfinished or difficult right in front of you. Vision allows a person to grasp a nebulous concept and foresee what will be rather than what is. Vision is what people like Bob Lutz and Steve Jobs and Jack Welch have in spades, and what people like George W. Bush do not.
Which rounds around to this episode of How Hard Can It Be, which is like a high school science fair except with vehicular effluence instead of beakers and fire. Today we are focusing on the birth of a legend, the BMW 5-series.
Debuting in 1972 (1975 in North America), BMW production code E12 was the new mid-size offering, smaller than a Bavaria (3.0S) but larger than a 2002. First the 530i landed with it’s self-destructive emissions equipment and dubious performance. Later the 528i showed up, with blistering-for-the-time go power that begat a long line of coveted BMW Q-ships.
The seller of this fine specimen of unknown vintage plainly states this is a parts car. We hugely disagree. While both cosmetically and mechanically challenged, this forlorn example deserves an owner with vision to return it to its former state of Teutonic dominance.
Though some parts have been harvested like kidneys at the end of a cheap grain alcohol-fueled date, the important ones remain, like the critters that have made this 528i their condo. Why, even the dashboard appears crack-free, and the car wears four matching Borbet wheels. So that’s nice.
It takes vision to imagine the road monster this thoroughbred could become. Those critters had it when they set up camp. Do you?