Still Thinking About Giulia
All the way through grade school, I daydreamed of Farrah Fawcett and the Lamborghini Countach, and then picking up Farrah Fawcett in a Countach. Never mind that I was in the sixth grade and never mind that she was married to Lee Majors, The Six Million Dollar Man.
As I grew older, my tastes became only barely more realistic, I decided that my dream car was the Porsche Turbo Carrera 930. The sexy lines of the Turbo satisfied me until I realized I’d probably do just as well steering it as I would my own racing hormones.
I realized I needed to fall in love, and fall I did, quickly and forever. Her name was Giulia.
I first met her when I saw the movie, The Graduate. There she was petite and red, topless. She was so Italian. We’re so Puritan here in The States that I wondered if the culturally differences would be too much.
I started working to save up the money to maybe take her out and quickly realized I was gonna have to wait awhile. Just shy of $4000, she wasn’t cheap. So, I got to know her and her family well, really well.
She was born in Grugliasco, Turin, Italy. She got her chassis from her mother, another Giulia, Alfa Romeo Giulia 105, but her looks definitely came from her father, Battista “Pinin” Farina. She was his last child. Born in 1961 at the Turin Motor Show, she had her coming out in March of ’66 at the 36th Geneva Motor Show. Her nickname soon became “Duetto,” but I preferred her given name Giulia Spider.
Giulia was tough inside and out. Her monocoque construction protected her zippy drive, 109 hp (81kW) that came straight from her heart, a “1570 cc variant of the Alfa Romeo twin cam four cylinder” and “dual Weber two-barrel side-draft carburetors.” At the time her five-speed transmission, disk brakes and independent front suspension were a mystery to me, but it’s okay, because, at the time, she didn’t give me the time of day.
We lost touch, Giulia and me. It was my fault. I gave into my hormones and a faster, less refined type; I traded in love for lust.
We’d see each other around from time to time. I’d even bump into her family, but I would never approach her. I was too busy staring into the past we could have shared. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her now.
I’d ask mutual friends how she’s aged, and whether she still thinks about me, but she doesn’t remember me at all.
Just the same, I still think about her, and one day soon, I’ll take her for a ride.
How much will this ride cost me? I asked the well-respected, Alfista collector, Manuel Minassian, for his take on the Duetto market:
“Duettos were faring incredibly well, as they began to sell in the $30,000 range, but their prices took a hit about 10-years ago when their older cousins, the Giulietta and SS, began to take the limelight with high priced sales at auction. Today, a Duetto in excellent condition will run about $25,000-30,000. In five to ten years as the remaining Giuliettas and SS are absorbed by Alfisti, the price of the Duetto will appreciate rapidly.”