Posts Tagged ‘cars’

Quick, Act Like We Give a Crap

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Today the president of Toyota Motor Company, Mr. Akio Toyoda, appeared before a U.S. congressional committee to answer questions about the ongoing recall and safety/PR crisis that his company is currently suffering. My wife watched the proceedings on live TV, and as she put it, the result could only be described as “a serious culture crash.” Like a runaway Camry stuck at WOT, Mr. Toyoda ran headfirst into the unbelievable arrogance of the American government.

I will be the first to admit that I have a massive case of schadenfreude against Toyota. Over the last decade this company has proven that they aren’t infallible after all; that they are capable of the same greed-fueled mistakes and inestimable stupidity that, at one time or another, plagues almost every car company — even great ones like BMW or Mercedes-Benz. Yet the media has been blind to the slowly mounting quality concerns of Toyota vehicles, always holding them up as the good guys while demonizing the domestic automakers in the same breath. A common refrain is how much more concerned Toyota is about fuel efficiency, which is a patent falsehood betrayed by the wide swath of SUVs and trucks they sell, many of which get inferior mileage to their domestic competition. Worst of all are those hacks at Consumer Reports, who until recently were giving every new Toyota model an automatic recommendation, sight unseen, simply because of the company’s past reputation.

I guess it’s always 1989 in Consumer Reports land, because these same hacks would always turn right around and lambaste the domestic automakers for continuing to churn out crap, even when that so-called “crap” was comprised of legitimately competitive products like the current Ford Fusion or Chevy Malibu. A huge crisis of credibility has been going on in the auto journalism of this nation for so many years, I’ve almost gotten to the point where I avoid auto news on principle.

Indeed, for the last several years now, I’ve despised and avoided two things: Toyota Motor Company, and the U.S. Congress. There’s Toyota, trying to paint themselves as the self-appointed “great American car company” and our benevolent “green savior” while all the while they’re just another corporation cutting corners and stepping on toes wherever they can to get to the top as fast as possible, for little more than bragging rights. And then there’s the U.S. Congress, filled with people with so much more money than sense that it’s a wonder the House and Senate don’t collapse inwards on themselves in a vacuous singularity of wanton ignorance. Our senators and representatives are such unbridled egomaniacs that they all fancy themselves the babysitters of the entire American public who could not possibly know what’s good for them — yet, by and large, they accomplish nothing, have little-to-no private sector experience and would probably fail miserably if forced to deal with a working man’s pressures without all their perks and hired help. Today’s headlines, for example, brought news that Congress’ approval rating has dropped to a record-breaking 10%.

Now imagine these two forces — Congress and Toyota — coming together. Peter DeLorenzo of AutoExtremist predicted the results weeks ago: An embarrassment of epic proportions. Peter, no fan of Toyota himself (his book, “The United States of Toyota”, helps explain why), urged Mr. Toyoda not to accept the U.S.’s invitation to personally attend his company’s hearings — for the bloviators on the hill would only turn it into an embarrassment and further fuel the PR nightmare. After all, look at how the Big 3 bailout hearings were handled: as little more than an opportunity for our CongressCritters to beat up on auto executives, treat them like little babies and then argue (in the Republicans’ case) that they deserved no government support, when those same Republicans were already supporting the likes of Toyota to the tune of millions of dollars in tax credits in their home constituencies.

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Finally Found the Mercato Car Cruise

The Mercato Holiday Car Cruise that was canceled back in mid-December on account of poor weather was finally rescheduled, I guess, because I showed up at the Mercato tonight to pick up a sandwich and it was in full swing. Unfortunately we were already starting to lose the daylight, but I grabbed a few pics with my iPhone. There was a staggering amount of exotics in attendance; the pictures barely do them justice.

See them all in this gallery on Flickr. (Or you could just go to my photos page.)


Kindred

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The 1979 Trans Am

I was on my way home in my GTO this afternoon, with my windows down despite the near-100 degree temperatures of southwest Florida, when I spotted an interesting vehicular duo up ahead. In the lane to my right was a bright red classic Camaro — about a ‘68, probably — with a tremendous loping exhaust note and beefy rear tires. In the lane to my left, meanwhile, was a white ‘79 Trans Am with gold decals, brown interior and its T-tops off. Nice!

I was in the middle lane, so I sped up a bit and slotted myself in right between these cars. As luck would have it, we all came to a stop at a red light and I noticed for the first time that the guy in the Trans Am had his young son with him. The boy was maybe around 7 or 8 years old and was busy taking pictures of the old Camaro with a mobile phone. I let the goat hang back a little bit to avoid obstructing his view until he was finished.

When I pulled up alongside, I asked the guy in the Trans Am if it was a ‘79. He replied that it was, and said that the Camaro in the other lane was being driven by his wife and that they were on their way home from the car show downtown. The Trans Am was actually his friend’s car, and it was all-original with only 16,000 miles. The thing was, indeed, a work of art — it looked showroom new. I noticed it was equipped with the Oldsmobile 403 motor, if the “6.6 LITRE” decals on the shaker were any indication.

The light turned green, and we all took off. Thanks to the typical poor synchronization of our county traffic system — which I never thought I would find myself thanking — we were caught again at the next light, where Trans Am man further informed me that he and his family were members of the West Coast Muscle Car Club (holy shit — the website even plays “Sharp Dressed Man,” one of my old favorite driving songs!), and he had applications in his trunk if I wanted one. It was going to be kind of hard to get out of the car and get one, which we both quickly realized as the light turned green, so he told me his phone number.

“My name’s Jim,” he said.

Well, well, well.

It was many years ago when another man named Jim and his 8-year-old son went cruising in a ‘79 Trans Am, with its T-tops removed and the wind blowing through their hair. I found it fitting, somehow, that next month I’ll be getting some work done on our own classic Trans Am so that those days might once again be relived — sooner rather than later, if luck holds. Things are still up in the air a little; I’ve got plans for the car but only a vague idea of what it will cost, plus the cost of transporting it to Florida is nearly a third of the cash I have on hand. Not to mention that the storage options I have here in Florida could easily become endangered.

But today’s chance encounter with another kindred motor-spirit was like a reminder from some higher power — much like the collapse of Pontiac Motor Division early this year — that I have a job to do, a car to restore and memories to relive, and that I should not let a lot of waffling deter me from that end result. Even more important, getting to know some local guys will bring connections, local experts on car restoration and repair, and will help me feel less like I’m alone down here, surrounded by a swath of rich people with Lexuses (Lexii?) who wouldn’t understand automotive heritage if it ran them over at 50 miles an hour.

I’m absolutely going to make this happen.

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Confirmed: Trans Am WS6 in Forza Motorsport 3

Firebird Trackdays Event from Forza 3

Sweet Forza Motorsport 3, you have done this fan the ultimate service: Included a ‘98-’02 Trans Am WS6 Ram Air in your list of cars. Moreover, there’s an entire event dedicated to the Trans Am line. As proof, I offer this screen capture from a Forza 3 demo video recorded last month at Germany’s GamesCom 2009. (Click it to enlarge.)

This is the first time I’ve ever seen a fourth gen WS6 in a video game, and thankfully it’s one of the best-looking racing games out there, complete with fully-modeled cockpits and a livery editor that will allow me to dress it up exactly the way I dressed up my real WS6.

Forza 3 comes out in the U.S. on the October 27th. My preorder is ready and waiting.

Edit: The 2002 Trans Am WS6 was the Forza 3 “car of the day” on October 14th. Check out this awesome gallery of a Sunset Orange Metallic T/A…looks amazing!


Ketchup

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No. It’s not a post about condiments. It’s yet another: Random Posting Surprise™. As in, I’ll start writing something and surprise myself as to what it’s about. I once again started slacking off on posting here after a fairly good start back when I last updated the Oddball Update’s design. This weekend I finally got around to recategorizing all my old posts in the archive — well, I started, anyway — and this left me feeling like I should take a break from that to post something new for a change.

Last week we were in Michigan for a few days, visiting friends and family. We spent Labor Day there, and I actually got to take a couple of days off from work, so it ended up being a four-day weekend for me. The weather was perfect most of the time we were there; sunny and in the mid-70s with the exception of a couple back-to-back rainy days. We had ample opportunity to chat with my family members, I got to see my friends Pooch and Reaper (and pick up Donutown besides, which simply has to happen every time I’m in town), and eat out at our favorite restaurants. We also did a fair amount of eating in this time as well, which was fine with us, because it meant enjoying that much more of my grandmother’s home cooking.

Surprisingly, I did not have much in the way of allergy troubles. I often get bouts of asthma-like congestion and an uncontrollable runny nose when I’m back in the homeland, likely due to the dust and molds present in my old house’s ductwork, if I had to guess. The season contributes a lot to this phenomenon, especially because when it’s cold enough to warrant firing up the furnace, the warm air blowing through those ducts is usually enough to put my sinuses on an express elevator to hell. This time, though, the furnace was not needed, and we only ran the A/C a couple of times. For the most part, I had no trouble. That was certainly a relief.

And, as I mentioned in my initial review of The Beatles: Rock Band, my video game day with my friends was inspiring enough for me to reacquaint myself with the “plastic musical instrument” genre of games after a long hiatus. Since then, Apple and I have continued to have a blast with the Beatles game. I’ve been able to re-familiarize myself with my old favorite songs, which I mostly haven’t listened to in a while, and Apple was introduced to a whole swath of the Beatles’ catalog with which she was previously unfamiliar. The other day she came into my room and took all the Beatles albums off my CD rack, then proceeded to arrange a mix disc which she put in her car. Listening to it on the way to dinner the other evening was like going on a trip down memory lane.

The Beatles’ music makes me think of my high school days, for it was then that I first started listening to them. My friend Pooch introduced me to the group and their music besides, and I promptly started buying up the albums, working my way back from the Beatles’ latter years, the tracks from which I was most familiar. Hearing those songs again today mostly reminds me of driving my old Grand Prix, for a Beatles CD or cassette tape was never far from my car stereo whenever I went home from school, drove to or from my friends’ houses or wherever else I was off to. There were a lot of things wrong with those years, but the smaller they get in my rear-view mirror, the more the good times come to the fore — hanging out with friends, discovering new music, playing the great computer games of the era, and enjoying Junes, Julys and Augusts filled with relaxation and creativity in the pleasant summer weather of Michigan.

Pooch is still introducing me to bands, although this time they’re mostly Japanese in origin. Last week’s trip to Michigan was no exception, for we got together and I picked up some new albums from Shoko Suzuki (whose lovely retro-sounding song “Hi, Hello” I’m listening to right now), Shonen Knife, Ayumi Hamasaki and Ryoko Shinohara.

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The Greatest Inspiration of All

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We’ve finally made it back home. And home, as it turns out, is the greatest inspiration of all.

It was a bit of work getting here. You know how it goes — nearly 48 hours of nonstop travel across four separate flights, some lasting an hour, some lasting 13. Countless carrying of heavy bags, sitting in cramped quarters for a veritable eternity, and feeling the ever-increasing desire to just lie down and sleep, even though you can’t. But as these excruciatingly long trips go, this was about as smooth as it gets: Perfectly-sized layovers in each airport, no delays, no luggage snafus, everything exactly according to plan.

Except one thing.

I wrote in my last post that I thought my wife Apple was getting a minor cold. And it probably would have been minor, if she’d been able to rest and recuperate in bed as she needed to. But instead she had to travel and go without more than an hour or two of sleep for two days, in the exceptionally dry recycled air of one airplane after another. Let me tell you that by the time we got home, “miserable” doesn’t even begin to describe poor Apple’s feelings.

But here’s how my new outlook on life — and the lessons I learned in Thailand — came in handy during what could have been a very painful journey home. Normally, I admit, I’m not the most patient guy in the book. If things don’t go according to the plan I’ve laid out, or the routine I’ve set, I can get very irritated and unpleasant. While traveling, things are apt to take a detour from your expectations, so it would occasionally be stressful to travel with me. And Apple doesn’t like flying much either, so we were not a good pair when things went wrong.

I’d like to think, however, that such behavior is behind me. This time, even as we were in the airport waiting for our first flight, I could see that Apple was suffering terribly with her runny nose and a headache. My first, base inclination was to become annoyed at life, ask the rhetorical question of why she had to get sick, and be upset because I didn’t want her to suffer. But then I realized, if I’m in a foul mood, that’s only going to make her feel worse. As her husband, it’s my job to care for Apple, protect her and support her. And I couldn’t do that if I was being a grouch.

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Farewell, Red Arrowhead

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Farewell Pontiac

In the misty morning, on the edge of time
We’ve lost the rising sun, a final sign
As the misty morning rolls away to die
Reaching for the stars, we blind the sky

Oh they say that it’s over
And it just had to be
Ooh they say that it’s over
We’re lost children of the sea

Black Sabbath, “Children of the Sea” (1980)


On Monday, April 27th, 2009, General Motors announced the discontinuation of Pontiac Motor Division. CEO Fritz Henderson made the move to scrap Pontiac and eliminate 21,000 jobs as part of a desperate last-ditch attempt to keep GM from bankruptcy. Reportedly, it was a decision made under tremendous pressure from the U.S. government — which itself stands to become the majority stakeholder in General Motors if Henderson’s final turnaround plan is carried out.

For me, a lifelong fan of Pontiac and someone whose very existence is spiritually tied to that storied brand, it was a sad, disappointing day. Sad because, for all of our pie-in-the-sky hopes that Pontiac might again live up to its history of interesting and exciting cars — perhaps with a new Firebird or Trans Am — we now know with certainty that those dreams will never come true. Disappointing because GM let Pontiac wither away and die when the clock ran out, at a time when they have neither the money nor manpower to give it the dignity of a celebrated sendoff. There will be no pomp and circumstance when Pontiac fades away in 2010, because GM can’t afford any.

Long ago, on a website far, far away, I lamented the death of my favorite Pontiac, the Firebird, when that model met its end in 2002. Back then, I could never have imagined that the entire Pontiac brand would disappear before my eyes less than a decade later. (Ironically, Chevy fans have since regained their Camaro, the Firebird’s one-time platform-sharing sister.) But now here we are, and the jig really is up.

Pontiac was a brand with an identity, one that said you went your own way, marched to a different drummer, refused to settle for the mundane. In the 1960s and ’70s, that identity lived in almost every product Pontiac sold — and they sold a lot of them. Its products were at the heart of pop culture sensations like Smokey and the Bandit and Knight Rider. Unfortunately, since the 1980s, Pontiac’s identity has mostly lacked the corporate support and product portfolio needed to make its storied image work. The once-proud brand’s slide into obscurity was, as a result, inevitable.

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Escapism as a Lifestyle

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Originally, this post was going to discuss the official launch of our final week here in Thailand. It was going to feature details of the fun stuff we’ve got planned for our last weekend, our trip prep activities over the coming week, and even a list of “10 things I miss about the U.S.” juxtaposed with a list of “10 things I’ll miss about Thailand.”

I’m not so sure, however, that I want to write that post anymore. Not just now. I’m feeling a bit more philosophical at the moment.

When exactly was it that my day went down the crapper and into the proverbial sewer system? I was having such a good day, you see, until late this evening. During breakfast today, I started things off with a glowing email from my friend Pooch, who apparently really liked the sneak preview I sent him of the story I’ve been working on. During the day I worked on my various tasks, encountered some work-related problems and found their solutions. This evening we bought our last week’s worth of groceries and treated Apple’s brother and his family to a little dinner at Hachiban Ramen. They’re leaving on a weeklong vacation on Sunday, after which we may not see them again this trip.

I was riding high on good feelings throughout all of it, which is why it was a bit of a downer to come home and read the news that, according to a company insider, General Motors is going to officially announce the closure of the Pontiac brand on Monday. It’s still unofficial at this point, but would anybody honestly be surprised if it were true? And furthermore, even as an utter and complete Pontiac fanboy extraordinaire, would I be lying if I said it wasn’t a good move for the cash-strapped GM to make? By my reckoning, a smaller GM is better than no GM. For instance, I’d rather be able to buy a Holden Commodore badged as a Chevy Impala, as they are in most of the world, as opposed to not having the car at all.

Still, as a man who’s been a literally lifelong fan of Pontiac’s style, history and legacy, and who has never parked anything other than a red arrowhead in his garage, this is like watching a friend die. A friend who was terminally ill, and whom you knew couldn’t last much longer, and whose every remaining day was torturous and agonizing. None of that makes it any easier when the end comes.

Back in 2001, when I eulogized the Pontiac Firebird — my favorite car, and one whose permanent discontinuation had just been announced by GM — I could never have imagined that, less than a decade later, I might be prepared to eulogize Pontiac as a brand. But, come what may, we all have little choice but to accept the reality that’s handed to us by forces beyond our control.

My mood didn’t improve again today, not since reading this news. Speaking of which, since I previously announced that I was removing myself from any and all news consumption, you’re probably wondering how I even came across Pontiac’s death warrant. Sadly, I read it on my favorite video game blog, Joystiq. Joystiq also owns Autoblog. And at the bottom of every Joystiq page are links to the latest articles on all of their affiliate sites, sooooo…you can imagine what happened. Sigh. Sometimes you can’t win for losing, y’know?

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Random Hoo-Ha

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I couldn’t think of an appropriately witty title for this entry, nor could I decide on a particular subject — so what you get is, indeed, a bunch of random hoo-ha.

Hard to believe that yet another weekend is already two-thirds gone. Normally that would be a bad thing, but right now it just signifies the march of time bringing us ever closer to our return trip — an event for which Apple and I are both very anxious. This week we’re going to start packing, just to make sure everything we want to take with us actually fits in our luggage. I’m going to leave almost all of my clothes here, I think, and get some new ones when I get home. I need more stuff that fits; almost everything I brought is so big on me now that it makes me look like a partially-deflated balloon.

Yesterday was a good day. Apple and I both went to the family dentist for check-ups. It was a walk in the park — I was in there for about 10 minutes, and that was that. Sure, my mouth was a bit sore for the rest of the day, but that’s all. I think the visit cost about 10 bucks. Why can’t dental care in the U.S. be like this?

I had another one of those relaxing and energizing Thai massages in the afternoon, then we went to “Taste At” for dinner. Yeah, that’s actually the name of the restaurant. It’s a cozy little steakhouse that serves up the best Italian cuisine that we’ve had in Thailand. They have great lasagna, but the problem is they rarely have any available. Such was the case last night, so I ordered a steak. Imported New Zealand sirloin in mushroom sauce. It was pretty good, but honestly not as good as Sizzler (another western restaurant, which has a higher quality presentation in Asia than it does in the U.S.). Taste At’s spaghetti is much more highly recommended. We also had excellent tomato soup and a salad with grilled herb sea bass. Tasty.

After dinner, we tried to watch the ever-popular film Slumdog Millionaire last night, but I gotta be honest with you…I just wasn’t feeling it. Apparently Apple wasn’t either, because about halfway through she said, “Okay…I think I’m done with this movie.” So was I. Not sure what happened; I mean, it didn’t seem like a bad film, but we just weren’t in the mood I guess.

So today we had a light lunch at Hachiban Ramen, then went over to what Apple calls the “healthy market” to stock up on some natural juices, supplements and remedies. Now it looks like we’ll (thankfully) be relaxing for the rest of the evening. I have some new ideas for my story kicking around in my head — I already have most of the remainder of the tale planned out in notes on my iPhone, which I jotted down during the last long car trip we took — and I want to put them to paper. Well, virtual paper, you understand. Part of the hurry is that my friend Pooch is really wanting to see what I’ve written so far, but I keep putting off sending him an update, because every time I think about what I want to write next, I’m afraid I might have to change parts of the last scene to make them “gel” together. It’s a challenge. But this is one of the most personally fulfilling stories I’ve written since…I dunno, 2001?

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Escape Hatch

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It’s been a long time since my last update, folks, which means there’s a lot of verbal spew that’s accumulated in my mind and needs to be released. This post comes with the usual warning labels attached about excessive length, and possibly excessive bitching. Ergo, read at your own peril.

Yesterday was my 29th birthday. I wanted to post something, but wasn’t able to craft more than two or three sentences before I either became disgusted with where it was all going, or was interrupted by some other task. In the end, my actual “birth day” ended up being rather nondescript and mostly depressing, with a bunch of busywork and meetings bookending my complete inability to accomplish anything satisfying. It was fortunate that we actually celebrated my birthday on Sunday, with a great dinner and ice cream cake, so as a result I don’t feel bad about yesterday clocking the schabbs. (Wow, that was actually an id Software reference from 1992. I’m completely regressing.)

A couple of highlights from yesterday included enjoying the evening air with Apple (during which we watered the plants, one of our daily chores), seeing the very cool blog my mom posted about my birthday, and talking to my grandmother on the phone after my work meeting. All day yesterday I was in the mood to write; I’ve been working on a new story that combines an old-favorite subject with a more mature plot. I was sort of in a funk yesterday evening, though — having had my mood ruined by the mainstream media for the umpteenth time; more on that later — and it was late in the evening before I worked up the energy to resume my tale. I was just getting into it when one of my bosses sidelined me for an hour as he went on with childlike giddiness about how he’s discovered Linux and how I should try it. I’d love to, actually — I always was fascinated by Linux — but until all of the Adobe Creative Suite apps work either natively or through Wine, I just plain can’t. By the time he was done talking, it was time for my ops meeting. Bye-bye story.

After the meeting I talked to my grandmother to thank her for the birthday gift she sent me (I still need to call my parents and do likewise, but it had been weeks since I spoke to my grandma so I gave her precedence). Afterwards I thought about writing some more, but got caught up in troubleshooting our Internet connection. Our DSL has been going out repeatedly in the last four days, and in fact it was down all last night until 10:00 a.m. this morning. Naturally, it went out while I was in my meeting last night over a VoIP line, so that was great fun. I was beat from having gotten a lousy sleep on Sunday night, so I forgot about the story and just went to bed.

If I thought Sunday night’s sleep was lousy, I clearly hadn’t expected Monday night to be worse. I tend to like to get up late — say, 9:00 or 9:30 — and work into the evening, reserving the late evening / nighttime hours for my own personal pursuits, since that’s when my creativity is at its daily peak. While I’m in Thailand, this “half-offset” schedule also has me online for a couple hours when our U.S. office gets to work, in case they need me for some emergency. Unfortunately, it doesn’t jive too well with the other occupants of this house — my brother-in-law and his wife and baby daughter — who collectively rise somewhere around 6 a.m. and leave for work at 7:30-ish. This wouldn’t be a big deal, except for the fact that somebody has a habit of slamming the bedroom door every time they go through it in the morning, which is repeatedly and often. The door-slamming escapades this morning helped ensure that both Apple and I were listless, exhausted — and in her case, suffering from a sleep deprivation headache — all day.

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