“Though the color is officially [English] Red, University of Texas Fans would definitely identify it as orange,” writes the seller of this lovely, 69k-mile 1980 Mercedes 450SL. Funny, I just thought it was one of those great, bright ’70s safety colors so popular on the era’s Benzes, BMWs, Volvos, Fiats, and the like! Longhorns lovers, rejoice—but even those of us who are not Texans or college football devotees should be able to appreciate this well-preserved tourer, as found here on eBay with a $27,500 asking price.

That’s not much of a savings over the car’s 1980 MSRP of $35,839—at least, not until you remember about inflation, which puts that at roughly $108,900 in 2018 dollars—but we should all be so lucky to depreciate as little in the looks department over the next year-40 years as this Mercedes has. Full maintenance records from new are included with the sale, and this is the rare vintage car with a six-digit odometer, so there’s not much question about whether 69,810 miles is actually 169,810. Everything works, the tires are like new, the removable hardtop has new seals; everything about this SL says hop in and drive.

Of course, there are aspects of this car that may fall short of perfection for the more particular among us—not flaws in its care or presentation, but in the fiber of its being. Obviously, like all R107-generation SLs sold in the U.S. in 16 of its 18 years on the market, it has those massive safety bumpers front and rear. It also has the troublesome automatic climate control system used from 1976-80, and the 4.5-liter V8 was slightly detuned (from 180 to 160 horsepower) for 1980, its final year before being replaced by the even less powerful and more trouble-prone 380SL.

Frankly, though, I think those complaints held more water in 1980 when this car was new. Putting them aside, it’s here now, it’s been preserved in exemplary condition—it can’t have been that bad if someone liked it well enough to care for it this well!—and that changes its context to that of a desirable classic that has been kept up to be a pleasure to own and use. Even the big bumpers have achieved their own iconic status, tipping us off by their weighty massiveness that this is no lithe and nimble sports car, but should be enjoyed as a swift but sedate all-weather grand tourer. So I say, go for it, Longhorns fans—or, you know, anybody else, too. Just, please, if you fall into the former camp—no bumper stickers, okay?