It’s well over a year since I put my name on the title of a 1990 Nissan Skyline GT-R NISMO (or NISsan MOtorsport). It attracts attention only intermittently: If you’re under 40 and a dude–i.e., a member of the video game/Fast and Furious generation–you know what it is and are jumping up and down when you see it. If you’re older, or don’t pay much attention to cars, then it’s easy for it to slip under your radar because it just doesn’t look like something special. (Driving it is a different matter.) It’s not flashy like a Lamborghini; it’s not overtly macho like a jacked-up pickup truck; it’s a little old square coupe, but it’s one of those cars that, when you know, you know. Most questions are kind and curious, if occasionally overwhelmed with excitement at seeing a modern legend on the streets. But most of the conversations end up more or less the same.

Owning a Skyline is a bit of a novelty. And these same questions keep popping up.