A red roadster has been an object of desire for me since 1970. Ever since seeing the movie “Love Story,” I have wanted one with all my heart. In retrospect, only a 12-year-old boy could watch a movie called “Love Story” and fall in love with a car. But that’s what I did. My Dad, who loved cars and knew enough about them to race the cars he built with his Dad, told me it was an MG. He didn’t care much for it, but he knew what it was. His taste ran more to Chevys, and definitely to hardtops.