I know I said I wasn’t going to whine about this, but I am. Call me….well don’t call me anything, it’s rude.

After arriving in Northrend and ascending to lvl 71, I became very alarmed when, after completing quests for peasants and wayward seal-people (who seem to be under siege from the same pirate apparitions that plagued Scooby Doo for so long), I was handed very nice gear. Ridiculous in fact. Most of it blue, one or two green, all superior to my current adornments.

I should be happy, I know. After all, it’s an upgrade! For whatever reason I am unable or unwilling to grasp that concept. As someone who struggled with 39 other people to solve the riddles of BWL and Nax, wipe after wipe, for fortune and glory and all things epically purple and shiny, I can’t quite bring myself to put on this new gear. I know it’s better, but I can’t put it on.

Time for the obligatory metaphor to make my case. Let’s say that you were a hard working, self made person of intrigue and power in the early 1970’s, and you had a real thing for racing cars. At the time there was one car in particular that you coveted, for sake of our tale lets say it was a 1970 Ferrari 246 GT Dino. It was the best of it’s time in power, performance, style. It was also the hardest to obtain. You got it, you tuned it, acquired every supporting part and accessory available to make it the best it could be. And it was the best. You raced it, and you won. A lot.

As time went on, for whatever reason, you lost interest in cars. You keep your prize, but covered and in storage. Now, in present day, you suddenly find your passion for racing renewed. You pull the cover off, hop in and head out to the track. People still stare, still admire, but for an entirely different reason: Nostalgia. Or, in the case of the traipsing ninny in Episode 1, utter confusion. “I bet that was fast” they remark, smiling with the confidence that while they could never have attained such a car in it’s time, they car they have now is in most ways superior and thus it doesn’t matter.

After some qualifying races you realize that your car is still fast and worthy of competing, just not at the highest levels. Being the enthusiast that you are, the time for upgrading is at hand. That’s when the screaming starts.

You see an impressive machine, say a Lancer EVO. It is faster than your car, better performing in nearly every way, and at 1/5 the price to attain. You can just have it. But you don’t want it. You drove a Ferrari damnit, and even though you may not be able to pick up a new 458 Italia right now, you know that if you work hard enough you can get there.

I want my Ferrari, and I’m not ashamed to say so. So instead of racing an EVO until I have the chance to join the elite ranks once again, I will stay in my Dino. Sure I’m not going to get there as fast or win as consistently, but hey: I’ll look good doing it.