By 
You never know who you are going to meet at a gas station. I know, this sounds like the setup to a People of Walmart anecdote. But, trust me, it’s not: I met the lead guitarist of Blondie, Tommy Kessler, several months ago at a Pennsylvania service plaza.
As I refilled the tank of my Honda HR-V, he pulled up in a 2000 Dodge Viper ACR and started pumping gas. Not knowing who he was, I asked him about the car. He answered graciously, but with no interest in extending the conversation. Feeling persistent, I continued talking about the ACR, pointing out its 460 hp from the 8.0-liter V10—10 more than the GTS Coupe. Kessler continued to nod. After a short while, I brought up Autoweek and Kessler lit up. He told me who he was, gave me a card, mentioned his car collection, his car hangout and, oh yeah, that he’s the lead guitarist of Blondie.
That’s when I lit up. I offered my card in return. We exchanged contact information and “raced” for a couple miles on the interstate. I had to show him the real juice of an HR-V, then I let him go. Immediately after getting home, I told my wife about the exchange; I figured I’d never hear from Kessler, but at least I had a story to tell. The next afternoon he sent me a text, a few days later we spoke on the phone and now I have the privilege to call him a friend.
As I got to know him, I learned his taste in cars is quite distinct. Kessler has no interest in the newest of new cars: He mostly owns turn-of-the-21st-century stuff and wants to keep it no newer than that. He’s fine with fuel injection, for example, but thinks new cars lack personality and character. In addition to that Viper, Kessler has a 2017 Ford Mustang GT350R and a 2002 Porsche 911 GT2. The Mustang stands out: It's way too new for his tastes, but he loves the way it sounds and thinks it drives closer to the way cars should. He considers it an anomaly in today’s automotive world, almost a unicorn.
As a lover of both used and new cars and a sympathizer for all the work car companies do, especially the engineers, to keep up with world demands and regulations, I felt slightly offended. After all, I was an engineer for five years, doing traction control, stability control and vehicle dynamics work.
To me, the “personality” he speaks of are flaws—or quirks, if we're being generous. Another word for it is compromise: You sacrifice one trait of a car for another. Engineers hate compromise. If you can have a car that rides well and handles well, all the better.
Kessler stood his ground. If anything, he dug in his heels.
But, surely, a new car exists that Kessler would love—I just needed to find it. It became my new mission in life.
And why not start big? Thinking about the flat-plane crank V8 in his GT350 R, I figured winning over his ears would be the fastest way to win over his heart. How could Kessler not love the siren song of a naturally aspirated, 789-hp, V12 Ferrari 812 Superfast? After all, how can a Ferrari lack personality?
Arrangements are made, and I eventually meet Kessler at a Hilton Garden Inn parking lot in New Jersey with a silver (actually the paint is called Argento Nurburgring) Ferrari 812 Superfast with all the glorious aforementioned cylinders, horsepower, carbon-fiber steering wheel and Daytona-style seats, as well as modern touches like satellite radio, Apple CarPlay and a $415,000 price tag. He arrived in his GT2. We exchanged pleasantries and got underway.
As Kessler settles into the Ferrari he immediately pulls out a pair of black, laced driving gloves and places them onto his lap. He then ties his mid-back-length blond hair in a ponytail and tucks it out of the way. (He keeps his hair long for his lead guitar role in the Broadway hit Rock of Ages, an '80s hair band show that became a movie in 2012. It’s what Kessler does when not on tour with Blondie.) Then the right and the left gloves go on, with surgical precision and care.
“This is the first modern Ferrari I’ve ever driven,” Kessler says as we pull away.
As we pass by his GT2, I glance at its license plate: WDW MAKR. I grip the door handle a bit harder. This is my first time in the passenger seat of the Ferrari that costs twice as much as the average Midwestern house—and my first time witnessing Kessler drive.
From my time behind the wheel, I already know the Superfast drives beautifully on the street. To start, you always have a front row seat to a truly awe-inspiring concert of 12 cylinders firing off like Formula 1 cars of yore. Those 789 horses come online at 8,500 rpm, but the fuel isn’t cut off until you reach 8,900 rpm of naturally aspirated, screaming glory. And, despite being a 6.5-liter motor, the flywheel is quite small and light, meaning this engine’s revs climb and fall just like a race car.
Yes, the Superfast is a grand touring car, with its V12 up front. But Ferrari installed a seven-speed dual-clutch transaxle (which combines the transmission and differential as one unit) at the rear axle, far behind the cockpit. As a result, weight distribution is rear-biased, with 53% hanging out back. Total weight is under 3,600 pounds, according to Ferrari, meaning that the Superfast will make good use of its Pirelli P Zero rubber (275/35R-20 in front, 315/35R-20 in back) and carve through corners with unexpected agility. And that’s in sport mode! Aside from wet mode, the manettino dial only gets more serious from there.
“I do love that there’s only sport or race, no normal or comfort or whatever,” Kessler says, before adding, “though wet is useless.”
It’s clear Kessler loves the car. Something about driving a modern Ferrari, the aura of it all, certainly captures him. Kessler finds it beautiful and exceptionally well made. But I can also tell something about it nags at him.
To start, the car doesn’t have a classic Ferrari gated shifter. And here I’m forced to agree: Despite all the objective gains dual-clutch transmissions offer, I, too, would rather have a manual. Kessler’s eyes roll when I mention this Ferrari was this first to use electric power steering. Reacting to his eye roll, I remind him that his Mustang GT350R also has EPS. It does me no good.
When I talk up the rear-wheel steering, he just sighs. It’s an example of modern technology he doesn’t like; I think it’s cool. Trying to salvage the Superfast’s honor, I revert to the engine. In addition to that 789 hp I mentioned ... which is 800 metric hp, by the way, and it’s a 12-cylinder—812, get it? ... anyway, in addition to all that, the engine gets a 5,075-psi direct fuel-injection system, has a 13.6:1 compression ratio and makes 530 lb-ft of torque at, get this, 7,000 rpm.
“That’s higher than most turbo cars rev to!” I exclaim.
“Exactly!” Kessler says. “But I can’t hear the V12 like I want to inside this interior. It’s too quiet!”
I was missing the point. All of that modern stuff is great and all, but Kessler didn’t want the technology—or the luxury.
Kessler goes on: “It’s all too luxurious inside. If I didn’t see the Prancing Horse on the steering wheel, I would believe this is any luxury car—a Lexus.”
Ugh.
Too luxurious?! Since when is comfort a bad thing? I can hear the V12 fine! C’mon! It’s a front-engine V12 grand touring Ferrari. No less one of the most extreme, best-sounding, quickest and fastest Ferraris ever built. How is the fact that the car also has a quiet interior a bad thing? To quote Mugatu, “I feel like I’m taking crazy pills!”
Then we get to a long, flat traffic-free stretch of asphalt and Kessler punches it it, keeping it buried for a couple of gears. After applying the brakes, things go quiet until Kessler says, “Whoa! Man! This thing is fast!”
Kessler turns around and does it again. And again.
Time passes. Kessler, still shaking his head in disbelief: “That acceleration, whoa!”
Clearly, I started the conversation in the wrong place. Engine specs didn’t help, nor did fancy suspension with adjustable shocks or Formula 1-derived legit functional aero like the rear diffuser in back. And certainly not things like LED headlights or covered maintenance for seven years. I could’ve—and should’ve—simply told him that the Ferrari 812, the very car you’re sitting in right now, hits 62 mph from rest in 2.9 seconds and accelerates from standing still to 124 mph in just 7.9. That’s quicker than the all-wheel-drive 2019 Lamborghini Aventador SVJ.
Alas, time runs short. Kessler is a rock star/car guy after all. And what do rock star/car guys do on a Saturday night? Help host an informal car show/rally/gathering with friends and friends of friends at your car club hangout in New Jersey. And that show, put on by a buddy of Kessler’s, is called Midnight Run.
Midnight Run has two main parts: a nighttime car show and a “road rally.” The directions of said rally are kept secret until the night of the event. While driving, some folks pay closer attention to things like speed limits than others. Time is a factor, but not in the traditional time-distance-rally sort of way.
The Ferrari 812 participates in the car show potion of the event only, as does Kessler’s GT2. But the 812 sits in a VIP section among the crowded field of crazed cars ranging from your typical slammed WRX to an onslaught of BMWs to McLarens, Lamborghinis, more Ferraris and old Monte Carlos and, no joke, a modified Ford Expedition. As the 812 sits and receives much higher levels of attention than a Lexus, Kessler and I sip whiskey and talk cars.
To his mind, different cars should serve different—and narrow—purposes. You have a car for work, designed to handle the mundane tasks of the modern world (Kessler also owns a 1985 Ford F-150 and a 2007 Lexus LX 470). But also you need a car, or cars, for fun. And that car should be good at nothing but fun. For him, the Superfast is, essentially, too good. The fact that it’s also good at ambling around town and staying quiet when you want unsettled him.
This gets to the heart of our fundamental disagreement. I see it as no problem whatsoever that Ferrari makes an 800-metric-hp beast that’s also comfortable. You can set it to race mode and carve through canyon roads. Or do sport and ease away miles on the highway going to and from those epic roads. I see no issue with not having ringing ears and mild nausea because the engine didn’t buck me to pieces and blast 100-decibel shrieks at me just because it wasn’t perfectly happy with its operating conditions.
In summary, I think the 812 is great! Kessler does, too. But he wishes it were louder and less comfortable. Me: flaws. Him: personality.
“If I was in a position to own multiple Ferraris,” Kessler concludes, “the 812 Superfast would absolutely be one of them.”
Very diplomatic. But ultimately, in my mission to convince him that automakers’ newest offerings are worthy, I messed up. An F8 Tributo—or, even better, a 488 Pista—would’ve left him weak in the knees. Or maybe I should have gone in a different direction entirely. Maybe a Civic Type R would do the trick. Or a Subaru STI S209. Maybe a Rodin FZed.
Regardless, my mission to win him over is far from over.
