With all the precision of a fine Swiss watch, the ’91 Lexus LS 400 sat in the driveway ticking, inexorably ticking. The tick was precisely synchronized with engine speed, and sounded for all the world like a plug wire arcing, or, perish the thought, like an aging lifter no longer able to complete its clean and jerk routine. The odometer was pushing 90 grand, and no one had been under the hood for a long time. A very long time.