RETURN OF THE BMW 2002, GOODBYE DREAM

While working on the Ford account in a New York ad agency in 1968 I did some non-automotive moonlighting for a Philadelphia agency. The money I earned from that gig quickly paid off the bank loan that allowed me to buy a 2002. Of the many cars I've owned and driven it remains one of  my favorites.

Mine was one of the first to be sold in the New York area. Having test driven a BMW 2000 sedan during a previous job as editor of Canada Track & Traffic magazine I knew the 2002 would be a great car. The specifications alone assured me and I wasn't disappointed. It epitomised the phrase "fun to drive" and yet was perfectly suited to its task as a family car.

When the ad agency transferred me to London to become creative director of the Ford of Europe account it moved our worldly goods, including the car. No one thought to ask about the make and so that 2002 became our ride in the UK. Now you might be justified in saying it was like taking coals to Newcastle, considering England was home to many fun-driving automobiles, and that shipping a left-hand-drive car to a right-hand-drive country was pretty dumb, but I never regretted it.

We lived near Kings Road in Chelsea which was, at the time, the trendiest street in all of Britain, the place to check the latest fashions, furnishings, and wine bars. Driving the 2002 along Kings Road, and especially parking it, drew all sorts of admiring glances. Okay, it was only a car but that 2002, a rare sight in the UK then, did much for my ego. And it was a ball to drive on those narrow English roads.

I eventually sold the 2002 to compensate for losses suffered in a foolish attempt at operating a rehearsal hall for popular rock bands. I won't bore you with the details but essentially I was forced to close it by two majority partners who hated rock. So goodbye 2002 to the impossible task of soundproofing an old church hall.

Obviously that was a long time ago. Yet sometime in the 1980s, perhaps besot with nostalgia for happier times, I began regretting the loss of the 2002 and declared that if ever BMW were to build a contemporary version, not deliberately retro but lighter and more affordable than the 3-series it was selling as an entry-level car, I'd be first in line to buy one. It's been a long wait, but the rebirth of the 2002 is here. BMW calls it the "2-Series," an appropriate choice of name which I'm sure was deliberate.

Two variations are available. The hot one is the M235i. The "base" coupe, the one most folks will drive, is the 228i. Like the original 2002 it is powered by a 4-cylinder engine. Like the 2002 tii, the engine is turbocharged. Like the one found in the new 328i sedan, it pumps out 240 hp and 258 lb-ft of torque, more than double that of my 45-year old BMW. Twice as quick, too, for it can go from 0-60 in 5.4 seconds. It comes standard with an eight-speed sport automatic transmission with paddle shifter. The 228i MSRP in the US is $33,025 whereas I paid a little less than $6000 in 1968 dollars.

In spite of today's amazing technology I suspect my 2002 would still be more fun to drive. Why? Because it gave back to the driver what the driver put into it. Sadly my declaration of owning one when BMW resurrected the 2002 will remain no more than a dream. Never one to be careful with his money I'm back to the same financial status as the day I sold the 2002 to a young Portugese diplomat.

I still have the New York license plate.