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Import Car Scene - How Time Flies

Life & times of J. Carter

Carter Jung
Jun 8, 2007
130_0705_01_z+acura_integra+jdm_front_view Photo 1/1   |   Import Car Scene - How Time Flies

As I slowly started to piece together this month's Intel section, I did what I do every month and pulled out an old issue for Classic Super Street. Like an archaeologist digging up a lost culture, I examined each issue both for review and to see how far this scene has come. The May '97 issue however, I know well-it features my old car. And that's when it hit me, 10 years have already passed since my car was on the cover. A whole freakin' decade.

Once I was able to get past the initial shock, a flood of memories came rushing back. Recollections of my love affair with the Integra took me back to my younger days full of hope and joy (i.e., before Primedia).

In high school I was waiting on the sidewalk for my ride to pick me up and I noticed a strange burbling sound emerging from the parking lot. As I craned my head over my zit-faced peers, a black DA9 rolled by, dropped, Ultraflowed and rocking PIAA 959s. That's when my heart melted.

By the time I turned 16, the awkward looking DC2 came out. The back and profile looked dope but those round lights were atrocious-it was the automotive "butter face." But like pugs, sushi or chicks with personalities, the front grew on me and I ended up getting one. A car geek, I knew exactly how I was going to modify it, too, that is until I picked up an Option video.

Back then, Option videos were only in Japanese, so when I was watching a volume on Integras it took me a good 30 minutes to realize that there was something strange with the DC2 on screen. It looked like a DA9 front was slapped on a DC2. The text read "Type R." Like Ashley Simpson post-nose op, the horizontal lights created the front end nature had intended.

After much research, and with the help of Nitto, Mr. Visa and container shipping, we managed to get everything stateside in preparation for the '96 SEMA show. Unfortunately, because of complications, my car made it to Vegas but sans the front end. The week after the show, the needed parts were shipped in and the car was back in the body shop where it underwent the transformation. Done, my next goal was to try and get it featured, and it boiled down to two offers: Turbo, the respected title of the era or new upstart Super Street, where my homie Ed worked at the time.

Like my pathetic career a decade later, you can guess how that turned out.

By Carter Jung
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