No Money, No Problem
Have you ever lusted for a Lamborghini? I have. Specifically, the Lamborghini Aventador LP 7~00-4 Roadster convertible. There’s only one thing stopping me from getting one.
With options, it sells for just under half a million dollars. That’s for a car, a special car, but by no means the most expensive. If I wanted to, I could try talking the company into producing another Lamborghini Veneno, which sold for $4.5 million when it was introduced in 2013. Zero to one hundred kilometers (zero to sixty-two miles) per hour in 2.8 seconds. Of course, one buys a Veneno for more reasons than that.
Yet I wonder how the owner of one would feel if he or she came up against, say, a Suzuki Hayabusa or a Kawasaki Ninja ZX-14R, both street-legal production motorcycles that could hold their own against a Veneno. If you sink $4.5 million into your wheels and come up short against a machine costing one-three hundredth that but which still draws attention to its sound and looks, that’s not good.
Lamborghini only made three Venenos, one in each color of the Italian flag. They sold all three sight unseen. You billionaires will shrug at that, but I don’t.
No money, no Veneno. But wait—I don’t actually need to own $4.5 million, do I? I could always try borrowing it.
I could talk to a bank loan officer, just to see the look on her face. I bet at least one of us would laugh. And, of course, even if she went insane and loaned me the money, I still couldn’t convince Lamborghini to sell me a car.
So, no money, no loan, no Lamborghini. End of story. I stick with my paid-for truck or some other bourgeois four-wheeler.
Never Say Never
But I can’t quite give up. I could sublimate the craving for automotive power into some other realm. I decide to run for political office.
I run on the slogan “No Money, No Problem.” In debates with my opponents, I point out that John Maynard Keynes is the most influential economist in the world and Keynes sa
Article from Mises Wire