A quiet road, nobody around, and a tidal wave of torque at the discretion of your right foot. If you can say, honestly, that the thought of signing your name in melted rubber hasn’t appealed to you even once in your life…well, what are you doing here? The burnout is a rite of passage, a joyous expression, a vent if you need it, and few cars were as capable (or as oddly inappropriate) as a mid-1960s Buick big-body. The car that appealed to mature tastes had either the old Wildcat mill or the new Buick V8…either way, though, you had enough tire-melting torque on tap that one significant nudge of that gigantic long pedal on the right turned the bias-ply tires of the day into large, fluffy white clouds. Surely nobody gave it any thought when you asked to borrow Aunt Jane’s Buick to make a run to the store, did they? Or even better, once these became used cars, they weren’t the first thing that you thought of for a monster runner, were they? I don’t know…these cars were before my time, but you cannot deny that the physics work well. If you need a reminder, let this great big haze-out remind you of the good old days when even the more luxury-oriented, uncommon selections could pin you back to the seat without mercy.