The Customer is Almost Never Right

The customer is always right; unless they are wrong.  It seems counterintuitive, but it is usually the case that the very attributes that drew you to something in the first place are not what you would want to keep, given the chance to "improve" it.  It happens constantly.  Remember Hardee's Turkey Burger?  Nobody else does either.  But when a research council posed the question to a panel of consumers, almost everybody said the best way to improve the Thickburger was to reduce the fat and calories.  The Turkey Burger was the perfect solution.  It was exactly what the consumers asked for.  It was a big, thick burger with fewer calories and fat than the cow version.  Except it was dry and bland, tasting more like an old work boot than anything resembling food.  New Coke, Doritos Wow chips, and Crystal Pepsi are all examples of marketing studies that not only missed the mark, they ruined the original product. 

What has tortilla chips that cause diareah to do with The CamFollower?  As it turns out, many cars fall victom to the same market research disambiguation.  Almost uniformily, things are ruined by "improvements."  An easy example: back in the 1950's GM capitalized on the notion that they could wrest a few dollars from the hands of young successful veterans.  Instead of buying an MGA or Triumph TR3, the red-blooded American hero could get a Chevrolet equivalent.  As a result, the newly introduced Corvette was an instant success, despite the weak performance. This pushed Ford to counter with the Thunderbird a year later.  It was just as fetching, but with more power and sophistication it soundly trounced the Corvette.  Of course, it took Chevy only a few years to catch up with the 1956 Fuel Injected Corvette.  But by then Ford had asked the buyers of the original Thunderbird what could be done to improve it. 

And in 1958 Ford introduced the "all-new and improved" Thunderbird.  Instead of svelte looks and performance to match, it had a back seat.  When asked, the average consumer wanted a little more room in their two seat sports car.  Later ford added another set of doors to its two door coupe, because consumers wanted  easier access to the back seat.  Thus in a few short years the Thunderbird was ruined utterly. 

A similar story is the Cadillac Seville STS.  When introduced even Jeremy Clarkson liked it.  It had presence, with a wide stance, laid back windshield, and thick C pillars.  Not only was it was a looker, it had shocking performance from a 32 valve 4 cam V8 that could run without coolant.  But when queried, focus groups wanted better visibility, easier access to the reat seats, and a softer ride.  The 1998 Seville STS was the right anwer, but to the wrong question.  The STS had gone from a credible BMW alternative to a nice Oldsmobille.  Similarly, the 1997 Camry was a pale shadow of the previous generation, but it ticked all the boxes of the customer research questionare.  The Porsche 928 was never better than the 911 it was to replace.  The 240Z could not be improved, no matter how many numbers and letters were

added.  The RX8 is hardly one better than the RX7.  And the original Honda CR-V reflects its Land Rover roots, while the later iterations were more Civic than Rover.

Luckily, there are a few examples of purity of intention.  The Dodge Viper is probably the easiest to identify.  It was originally a marketing ploy by Bob Lutz, then the man at Chrysler.  Something was needed to bring the ailing giant out of the K-Car age, and nothing would do it quite like the Viper.  Its original premise was "more power and more speed than anyone else."  There is nothing in there about comfort, economy, safety, technology or anything else that consumers find important.  It made a superbike seem practical.  Somehow the Viper never lost the plot.  It didn't gain a back seat, it usually had hood stripes and sidepipes, and the roof was always an option.  Driving the Viper was mostly terrifying, requiring a real superhero feat of concentration and skill to operate quickly.  But with practice, it is rewarding like no other car in recent memory.

So, be careful what you wish for, it might not turn out exactly how you expect it to.

Roads in America

Occasionally, I travel for work.  I am talking about the work that I do most days that actually increases my financial acumen, The Cam Follower representing more of a liability than an asset.  But The Cam Follower is always there with me, hiding just behind my eyes waiting to geek out on a Corvair Monza Spyder Turbo.  We all have our crosses to bear.  Anyway, during my recent trip, I visited The Automobile Gallery in Green Bay, Wisconsin.  What a great place!  It is filled with many beautiful cars, mostly domestic, all cool.  During our dinner, I had the great fortune of finding myself at a table with the entertainment for the evening.  No, it wasn't Rush.  But they were rock stars as far as I was concerned.

My new best friend, even if he doesn't know it, is Mike Kertscher.  He is the VP of Business Development at Road America.  That's right, Road Freakin' America!  My personal history with Road America dates back to the 1980’s. As a kid, I devoured car magazines, and they all used Road America at one time or another to beat on performance machinery.  While Laguna Seca has "The Corkscrew", and Watkins Glen "The Boot", neither has the speed or size of Road America.  It is a power course where most cars could reach top speed on the massive front straight.  In fact, Road America is basically a bunch of massive straights tied together with a little more than a dozen diabolical corners spread over a scenic 640 acres in Elkhart Lake, Wisconsin. The size is what separated Road America from all the other tracks car magazines used. High-speed corners reveal spooky chassis dynamics simply unnoticed on shorter, slower tracks, allowing the reviewers to form more complete opinions of the machinery. At parking lot speeds a Lotus and a Lincoln are indistinguishable. As speed increases, the differences become obvious. And at Road America, it is indeed possible to find the differences between very high-performance machinery.

In addition, Elkhart Lake sounded like a magical place to The Young Cam Follower.  Jags, Porsches, Ferraris, LeMans prototypes, and cheese.  That's all bases covered as far as I could tell.  Modern Road America represents even more, with historic races, club events, IMSA, Indy Car, AMA, driving schools, Lemons, Chump Car, carting, athletic events, and even a zip line.  And the biggest surprise to me is that no matter the event, from a local SCCA time trial to the NASCAR race, it will not be sold out.  The place is so big there is simply no capacity limit.  I can't think of any other entertainment venue, let alone sporting event, that has a guarantee of attendance.  Want to see the Cowboys?  Better plan ahead.  And know a guy.  And be a senator or the Pope or something.  Want to see the Historics at Road America?  Come on down! My friend Juls will even set you up with a golf cart to make getting around the more than half a thousand acres easier.  After spending a little time with Mike and Juls it became clear to me that they actually care about the racing, the community, and the people that show up day after day to watch the cars go ‘round. It's more than just a (dream) job to them.  Road America represents the very best in independent racing facilities because of the efforts of the staff. It was an honor to have met Mike and Juls. They didn’t even seem to notice my geeking out over the Corvair. Next time you are anywhere near Chicago, drop in on them. I promise you will not only get through the gate, you will enjoy whatever you find inside.

The only disappointment is that it's not really shaped like a huge "RA" like the logo would lead you to believe.  Nothing is perfect, I suppose...

Unlikely Heroes

It’s pretty easy to spot a hero.  They tend to be covered in bright, primary colors.  Sometimes an easily identifiable logo or trademark will emblazon their flanks.  They almost always flaunt enhanced strength through conspicuous bulges in their costumes.  And, a hero's face is usually hidden behind a mask in order to protect their identity from villains.  

Of course, I’m talking about race cars, not Captain America.  I can understand your confusion, however.  Many of the same things that differentiate race cars from regular cars also apply to super heroes.  They are stronger, faster, more agile, and much more stylish than their showroom counterparts.  Super heroes usually possess special powers, or at least really neat gadgets.  They are just people underneath, but circumstance and personal attributes conspire to push these normal people beyond typical behavior.  Race cars are much the same.  While they may be based on production cars, they represent the pinnacle of automotive development, lovingly hand constructed from advanced materials, eschewing any consideration beyond speed.  Race cars are cool.  Period.  But if that’s so, then what the hell were these people thinking?

1. VW, instead of campaigning the excellent GTI in Global Rally Cross, uses the Beetle.  Back in the day, the Beetle was a credible desert racer with its air cooled rear engine design.  In fact, the original Beetle was the genesis for all buggies.  The current Beetle, however, is not a credible racer of any kind.  It is a styling exercise based on the Golf platform.  But since the GTI needs no help leaving the showroom, VW forces us to watch new Beetles bounce around race tracks all over the world.  VW can not get anybody with mismatched chromosomes to look at a Beetle, even if it is a race car of some kind.

2. Back in the glory days of the British Touring Car Championship (the Brit’s version of NASCAR) Volvo was known an also ran.  Never truly competitive, the big heavy box sedans did little to bolster Volvo’s street cred.  That is until the 850 Wagon entered the picture.  Over there wagons are called Estates and for good reason.  The Volvo 850 wagons were about the same size and mass as a decent little house.  Clearly, then, the wrong choice for a race car.  Despite this, Tom Walkinshaw Racing somehow transformed these rolling storage sheds into reasonably competitive race cars.  Not the fastest thing on the track, but usually the most entertaining.  The obviously unfavorable center of gravity resulting in many two wheeled escapades.  The point was to bring attention to Volvo, and it worked brilliantly.  They managed to win races, despite the stuffed collie in the back.  Seriously.

3. The Volvo race car was just a modified production car, and ignoring the obvious engineering prowess required to make that thing fast, it is somewhat unique.  The simple fact that Toyota Camrys can be found circling Daytona at 200 MPH is definitive proof that most race cars are in no way related to production cars.  Still, it would make sense to base a race car on something analogous to the intended purpose.  For instance, it seems pointless to make a monster truck from a Prius.  So if you were a movie star intending to race at Baja, you would probably not use an Oldsmobile sedan.  But that is exactly what James Garner did.  Of course, it is not really an Oldsmobile, it is a race car slightly resembling an Oldsmobile.  But my god, it is cool.

4. Off road racing has produced many unexpected vehicles.  The historical Dakar rally was so long that the race cars required teams of support trucks to follow the course to keep the cars running the whole race.  Obviously, the support teams raced each other as they went, so somebody had the utterly brilliant idea of making the trucks legitimate race cars themselves.  Surprisingly unmodified, these behemoths bash their way through the desert at shocking speeds.  There is nothing quite like seeing a ten ton, one thousand horsepower box on wheels flying through the air. 

5. Back in the 1970’s AMC was trying to survive.  To counter the Asian invasion, AMC answered the question nobody was asking with the innovative Pacer.  Calling it innovative may be a little optimistic.  The bizarre square footprint, massive windows, and jellybean profile conspired to make a truly strange looking car.  At least it was unique.  Unsurprisingly AMC had some trouble shifting units, and an enterprising dealer had the sound marketing idea of taking it racing at Baja.  Unlike James Garner’s Oldsmobile, these were basically stock cars with big tires driven by men with bigger… manhood.  Never again will I think of Bohemian Rhapsody when seeing a Pacer.

Floating

My mother had a few Cadillacs.  And I'm not talking about modern Cadillacs with three letter names. I am talking about back when Cadillacs had proper names like Sedan DeVille.  As in the big floaty land barge Cadillacs.  L-U-X-U-R-Y Cadillacs.  The interior resembled a swanky waiting room more than it resembled a modern automobile.  It had thick carpet, wood accents, lamps everywhere, and seats as flat as the deck of the USS George Washington.  It had half hidden rear tires, complete with white walls, to reduce the likelihood of confusion with plebian forms of transportation with four vulgar tires in plain view.  The hubcaps (google it) were wired.  The instrument cluster consisted of exactly one gauge: a yard or so of horizontal speed markings.  It had enough power, it was a V8 after all, but speed was certainly not encouraged.  The V8 was there to provide stress-free cruising, at least in a straight line.  The tiny leather wrapped steering wheel was a tool of convenience, intended to offer mere suggestions of vehicle control.  The climate control was identical to a house: set the temperature and forget about it.  In fact, the entire dash resembled an 80's entertainment system more than anything else.  It was covered by a number of green electroluminescent displays surrounded by millions of little silver buttons, and of course, nobody knew the purpose of any of them.  The point of the Cadillac Sedan DeVille was overt American luxury.  It was an automobile built for the express purpose of making you forget it was an automobile.  It would waft down the interstate at a stately pace in complete silence.  And it was marvelous.

As long as you didn't actually want to drive it, that is.  Combining a hair throttle, zero steering feedback, and about two and a half tons of Detroit's finest resources resulted in a somewhat nautical driving experience.  The SS Lincoln Town Car was much the same.  Even less aspirational cars like Buick, Oldsmobile, and Mercury were all about isolation.  Controls were distant and muffled, what I imagine it would feel like to take a shower in a wetsuit.  For better or worse, cars are not made that way anymore.  Lexus crushed Lincoln and Cadillac so completely that not one traditional American Luxury Car survives.  Cadillac is trying to be BMW while Lincoln is just happy to exist at all.  I am not saying it is a bad thing, but it makes me realize something about the new Acura (Honda) NSX.

How can an old Cadillac remind me of the new NSX?  I admit the NSX is the antithesis of the Sedan DeVille in every way.  Cadillac attempted to isolate the occupants of the car from the car experience.  The NSX is all about the experience of driving a supercar, but the DeVille and NSX have something in common.  Back in the 1980's Cadillac used analog means to damp the mechanical sensations of driving, but Cadillac's ultimate goal was to use computers to disconnect the driver from the car completely.  Not a self-driving car like we have today, rather a car still controlled by a human, but with controls administered by a computer.  Fly-by-wire had been used in the Space Shuttle, and Cadillac saw the technology as a way to deliver ultimate luxury.  Only truly synthetic controls could isolate the occupants of the vehicle effectively.  Unwanted vibrations and general weirdness is completely eliminated when there is no mechanical connection between the driver and the car.  Cadillac never progressed beyond conceptual stages, for the computer required to administer the technology was the size of a semi truck and produced enough heat to melt icebergs.  Cadillacs were big, but not that big.  And besides that, it didn't really work.

Coming full circle; the NSX is a completely computer driven vehicle, as Cadillac had envisioned.  The throttle and braking are completely virtual, while the steering is only slightly analog, torque vectoring providing the lion's share of directional control.  When you turn the wheel or stomp the loud pedal, a computer evaluates your intentions are and extrapolates possibilities until it settles on a strategy to deliver the desired experience.  It is exactly the opposite of Cadillac's design brief, Honda uses computers to enhance speed, not to enhance comfort.  I haven't driven a new NSX, but according to everybody that has, it is amazing.  One universal reaction is how analog the car feels, something like a 1980's BMW M1, but without all the priceless broken crap.  It is generally considered better than anything this side of the 918, LeFerrari, and P1 set.  And everybody loves it, without exception.

So what does this mean for us?  Simple - it is the end of the car as we know it.  Honda has now shown virtual sports cars deliver a superior driving experience.  Better than Ferrari, Lamborghini, Audi, Porsche, or Bugatti.  In fact, why bother with a car at all.  My home computer driving simulator lacks only massive g-forces to deliver a truly realistic driving experience.  And I can get a gyroscopic rig to provide that if I desire.  And if I pay for it.

The point is, the new NSX is generally regarded as a watershed moment in automotive history.  Modern cars are less interesting to drive because of electric power steering, CVT gearboxes, and turbo engines.  Honda has taken the modern, soulless car and digitally injected some good old mechanical vices, and it is a better car because of it.  But when it comes down to it, a Jaguar E-Type or an E36 M3 or even an original Sentra SE-R deliver a driving experience unavailable in a new car.  They vibrate and rattle, they skid around, and they involve the driver.  And they do all this at realistic speeds, not at relativistic speeds like modern performance cars.  Add in the fragile nature of old cars, and you have an experience no computer can simulate.  Oh, and they are affordable, too.

Group C Turbo Ruf

I have spent the last few weeks driving the most entertaining car ever.  It is not entertaining because it creates envy among my peers, or because it is a chick magnet.  It is entertaining due to its reactions to simple things like steering and throttle inputs.  Obviously, it is a powerful car.  Any powerful car can be entertaining, but more in a roller-coaster kind of way; hold on and enjoy the ride.  This car is entertaining in a magic trick kind of way.  A sensation that both surprises and delights you, but requires real skill and practice to pull off.

While rare and rather special, it is a car anybody would recognize.  A small child would point to it and say “vroom.”  It is a car you see every day.  It is a car that is easy to ridicule, but impossible to dismiss as irrelevant.  The Porsche 911.  I said this one was rather special, so before you have the chance to point out how ordinary the 911 is, let me explain which 911 I am talking about.  Not the run-of-the-mill silver 2001 911 with a questionable reputation for reliability that is currently listed on EBAY for a very reasonable "Buy it Now."  Instead, this is a 911 in HD, if you will.  A 911 so modified it doesn't even say Porsche anywhere on it. Indeed, the fastest 911.  The RUF CTR, popularly known as the “yellow bird.”
If you were a reader of car magazines in the 1980's you know this car well.  If not, a little history lesson:

RUF is a manufacturer of cars, but not in the normal way.  They don't start with iron ore, sand, and oil to create automobiles like Ford or Daimler.  That is too plebeian, too ordinary.  Gordon Ramsey does not grow the wheat he uses to make bread, after all.  To RUF, a 911 turbo is a good starting point, a raw material that can be molded into a proper car.  To the guys at RUF, it has a few of the required ingredients, like four wheels and some glass, but is incomplete.  As a result, most of the complicated stuff is replaced by more "suitable" parts.  The engine is a hand built intercooled turbo mill with a race car computer running everything.  The transmission has five gears, rather than the regular cars four.  The suspension uses spherical bushings instead of rubber, the shocks are made by Koni, the wheels are substantially larger forged aluminum alloy and shod with the best Pirelli P7's, the brakes are lifted directly from a LeMans racer of the day.  The body was smoothed, and the front and rear bumpers were changed to reduced lift. The rear wing was reshaped to reduce drag and improve airflow into the engine compartment.  As a result of all the work, the BTR was capable of 187MPH.  In 1984.  But Alois Ruf knew there was more potential in the car.

In 1987 the CTR was introduced.  It sported a completely new engine with two turbos and an under-rated 465HP. This time RUF chose a basic, “narrowbody” 911.   Removing the rain gutters, reducing body gaps, fitting NACA ducts for cooling, refining the “whale tale” rear spoiler, and changing the underbody. This resulted in a significant reduction of drag and lift compared with the BTR or the regular 911.  With the added power of the new engine and a more aerodynamic body, the car was capable of 211MPH.  On timed acceleration runs it was so powerful, the rear tires never achieved grip down the entire drag strip.  It would cross the 1/4 mile line sideways billowing tire smoke.  While truly massive power was on tap, the car was quiet, composed. The A/C worked, the windows went up and down when asked.  The level of refinement was rivaled only by the level of lunacy. It was faster than the Ferrari, Lamborghini, Corvette, and Porsche at the competition.  In fact, it held the record until the mid 1990's.

So now you know what it is, why is it the most entertaining car in the world?  First, we must define “entertaining.”  New cars are certainly fast, or safe, or efficient, but rarely are they entertaining.  With very few exceptions, new cars have too much grip, not enough power, and an electronic nanny to ensure they are not entertaining.  For 99.9% of the car buying public, this is a good thing.  For those of us that crave the sound, smell, thrill of surviving an encounter with the truly frightening, there is the RUF CTR.  There is a primal part of our brain that responds to machines like the CTR.  It is also the part of our brain that can get us killed, so try to keep these things in perspective.  If a normal car is represented by a bowl of oatmeal – safe, bland, good for your colon, then the CTR is a plate of eclairs smothered in pork BBQ on a bed of crispy bacon with a shaken RedBull and a flaming cocktail to wash it down.  You may truly enjoy the experience if you live through it.  Part of the pleasure is in the danger. It is why people climb mountains, kayak, surf, or wrestle alligators.  It makes you feel alive.

While obviously life threatening, the handling of the CTR is telepathic.  Turn in is crisp, the pendulum effect of the rear weight bias is pronounced, exaggerated by all the power on tap.  The power builds linearly, surprising considering the large turbochargers.  The balance is mind blowing.  The car can truly be steered with the throttle.  The front end becomes very light at about 100MPH as the rear wing transmits real downforce to the back tires.  The driving experience is truly unique, especially at the limit.  While not easy to drive by any stretch of the imagination, it is very rewarding to tame this beast. Achieving a four wheel drift through a right-hander at 130MPH is a religious experience in the CTR.

Have I mentioned I have only driven this car on a simulator?  Oh yes, I have never even seen a RUF in real life.  To operate one in excess of parking lot speeds would require more testicular prowess than I possess.  The combination of turbo lag, old tires, and trailing arms are diabolical.  While it is true this car enjoys going around corners, it is supremely difficult to coax it into going around the corner you wish.  It simply goes around a corner you didn't know existed, tail first, usually into the wall, or another car, or the pit lane.  Maintaining a straight line is absurdly difficult.  While on occasion, I have seen 200MPH on Mulsanne, I have never seen what is past the long, famous straight.  It could be Disney Land, for all I know, because I always end up in the bushes.  How the guys in Road & Track accomplished a full track test of this car in 1987 is beyond me.  

So there it is the most entertaining car in the world, the RUF CTR.  Of course, I mean on a simulator, where you will survive the experience.  In real life, I would rather wrestle that alligator.

A Case for the Cheap Sports Car

Way back in the 1990’s Porsches were expensive and slow.  Unless you wanted a convertible Porsche, which was more expensive and more slow.  Porsches were expensive because they had to be due to the incredibly inefficient way Porsche made cars.  This created unneeded complexity on the assembly line and resulted in cars no more reliable than the average upscale European standard.  Even though Porsche was able to shift every car built, it was at such a low-profit margin they were in fiscal trouble.  The severity of the problem led Porsche to ask a few former Toyota executives to help iron things out.  The solution, it turns out, was basically to start over.  So Porsche started over.

In order to sell cars they must be affordable, never a strong point for Porsche.  Replacing the 944/968 was paramount to the survival of the marque.  Mazda had shown that an affordable roadster was the hot commodity in the market in the 1990's.  Porsche could have cobbled together a cheap convertible from existing parts, but the boys from Toyota nixed that idea.  Instead, it would be a completely new car.  The Boxster, a mid-engine convertible, was inspired by the 550 spyder of the 1950’s. It was developed alongside the new 996/911 and used many of the same parts.  Same front fascia, same “fried egg” headlights, same interior, same controls, same instruments, same wheels.  The “affordable” Porsche would be just as attractive, sporty, and as much of a Porsche as the upcoming 911.  Except it would be a mid-engined convertible.  What could possibly go wrong?  Everybody high-fived and went to the bar.

When the Boxster debuted it was a hit.  An affordable Porsche, and a convertible too.  Sales were strong.  As a result, Porsche found itself pulling away from the edge of the bankruptcy cliff.  The future was bright.  Then a few months later the new 911 was launched, and everybody lost their collective mind.  It looked just like the cheap, slow Boxster that hairdressers and secretaries drove.  Never mind the fact that the 911 was designed first, and the front treatment that everybody loved during marketing seminars and styling research was given to the entry level model as an enhancement to the Boxster, not a detraction from the 911.  It didn’t matter.  Both the 996 and the 986 (911 and Boxster, respectively) suffered.  Porsche immediately restyled the front of the 911 for the upcoming turbo, and eventually applied that doe-eyed front to all 911’s, leaving the Boxster with its undesirable fried egg headlights.  Eventually, the 911 looked like a proper Porsche again, and the Boxster and Cayman established themselves as an acceptable entry level model, quite separate from the 911.  But the damage had been done.

So, what does this mean to us?  One thing; all this headlight drama has resulted in some very good sports cars with very bad resale values.  Decent 911’s go for $18k, and Boxsters for about a third of that.  I would advise against the absolute cheapest Porsche you can find, but for old worn out Miata money, you can have a Porsche Boxster.  Even a base Boxster has more luxury items than any Miata.  It also has those cool Porsche gauges, the ignition key on the left of the dash, and above all, a howling flat-6 right behind you.  And howl it will, because the base 200HP 2.5 is thin on torque.  But it is adequate for the job and is able to move the little roadster to 60 in about 6.5 seconds.  Remember, back in the 90’s that was fast.  The engine makes a marvelous noise, especially with a few strategically drilled holes in the muffler - so it can feel faster than it actually is.

While the base Boxster is a viable Miata alternative, the Boxster S is a real sports car.  For a few more greenbacks than the standard car, you get a bigger engine, three radiators, six gears, and a bunch more power.  You also get big red brakes and white face gauges.  For my money, it’s hard to do better than a 986 Boxster S.  The M96 is not the most reliable of mills, so plan on replacing the clutch, rear main seal, and IMS bearing upon purchase and every 60K miles thereafter.  The fried egg headlights and jellybean styling are attractive again, and with a cool set of cheap wheels, you would be hard pressed to do better for the money.  Ideally, you could pick up a really cheap S with a bad engine and swap in a used LS3.  It would nearly double your investment, but for used Camry prices you could have a true supercar, able to out-perform almost anything on the road.  Just don’t get too involved, because too much Boxster modification investment will put you in 996 territory.  It would not be hard to choose between a Boxster and a 911 if they were similar money.  The logical choice would be the 911.  But I still prefer the Boxster, if for nothing else than the fact that a 911 is more serious.  And to be frank, the Boxster is better.  It has better driving dynamics and balance due to its superior rear suspension and mid-engine layout.  It’s also lighter.  The interior is more befitting an inexpensive roadster than a luxurious GT.  And it always seems as if a 911 owner is compensating for some personal shortcoming, while the Boxster is just a cute little car that shouldn’t intimidate anybody.  So find a decent one and enjoy it.  At least until the fragile engine grenades.  When it happens, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

The Stench in Existentialism

Something has been troubling me.  It is a quandary that my brain has not yet wrestled to the ground.  It is not a true existential crisis, I leave that stuff to the philosophically inclined, but it runs to the core of my values.  The question is a simple one - why has Ford built the Focus RS?

Of course, the sensible answer is “who cares” because when it comes down to it, who cares.  But I have to wonder what meetings had to take place, who put their career on the line, and why.  It’s not that I have anything against the little car, it is kinda neat.  It is simply the latest evolution of a long line of hot Ford’s from Europe.  There has always been a Focus RS, but never before in America.  The whole premise of a hot hatch is somewhat foreign to us.  In the United States of F150, we tend to buy trucks, sports utilities, and Harley Davidson’s.  Large, powerful, and somewhat excessive is how our tastes run.  And still, somebody thought it was a good idea to sell a 350HP hatchback in the land of the brave and home of the free.

But why, you may ask, is a person who drinks Mobil 1 for breakfast criticizing anything about the Focus RS?  It has 350 horsepower.  Ken Block helped develop it.  It has a drift button.  Surely I would be among the early adopters, trading in a homely WRX for a Miata blue RS.  And truth be told, I like them.  But there is literally an elephant in the room that can not be ignored.  Actually, it’s a horse.  How can anybody, in clear conscience, purchase a Focus RS when right over there is a Mustang GT for the same money?

Let’s consider the cars.  The Mustang GT is a stunning rear wheel drive coupe with decades of racing pedigree.  It has a high revving 32 valve 435HP V-freakin’-8.  With the performance pack, it has the same Brembo brakes, Recaro seats, and summer tires as the RS.  It is infinitely more engaging to drive.  It is much better looking.  It has a nicer interior with a better stereo.  It will retain its value better.  Strangers will regale you with Mustang stories at the gas pump.  Guys on Harleys will give you a thumbs up.  Girls dig it.  Meanwhile, the RS is a nice shade of blue.

In a world without the Mustang, the RS seems pretty awesome.  And that is the world in which it was conceived.  Europe has been largely Mustang free until last year, so Ford Europe developed products that might have been outshined by the lowly Mustang, had it been for sale there.  This has led to many very interesting cars, including the Focus RS.  It seems strange that we never had the chance to buy a Ford RS product until now, but in light of this comparison maybe it’s not so crazy.  But now that Europeans have the chance to purchase a Mustang, it makes the Focus RS seem utterly redundant.

Not that any of this matters in the least.  It makes no difference to me that Ford makes two similarly priced cars with similar performance.  I would not spend my own $35K on either.  I would get a 997 Carrera S.  So I would like to apologize.  Clearly, my advice is useless and your time has just been wasted.  At least I feel better about the whole thing.

Spicy or Bland?

It should come as no surprise to anybody that massive corporations exist to make money. They develop and produce products that people want to buy. The ones that get it right more often than not make a profit. Companies that produce bad products disappear. At “Jimmy’s Pretty Decent Hamburgers, Where You Won’t Get Sick Most of the Time” you can get a pretty decent hamburger that rarely makes you sick. But Burger King has the Whopper. I am not well versed on world burger monarchy, but I would imagine the King of Burgers would surpass Jimmy’s best efforts. Had Jimmy considered the name of his establishment more closely maybe he would have been more successful, no matter how good his burgers were. With some attention to detail, it’s not all that hard to be successful at business. Car makers, for instance, have a simple job. To make cars. It’s right there in the name. How hard can it be?

Shockingly hard, as it turns out. Not only must the product be good enough to sell alongside similar products, it must also meet safety and emission requirements in order to be sold in the first place. Automobiles are the most regulated of consumer commodities. Gone are the days of crap cars like the Edsel, Pinto, Corvair, Pacer, Gremlin, and anything built by British Leyland. Computers have made everything easier, including automobile design. The digital age has made it possible to virtually produce products, resulting in the deletion of truly horrible cars before a single part is created in the real world. In addition to virtual design, decades of marketing research has reduced the number of duds coming from the production line. With the notable exception of the Pontiac Aztec and the 2016 election, computers are generally competent at predicting the future. Not to say that all new cars are good. Most are simply adequate, lacking any focus or passion. Discounting the Jeep Renegade and Fiat 500L (which, incidentally, are the same terrible car) anything you end up with will be comfortable, safe, reliable and efficient.

Oatmeal is comfortable, safe, reliable, and efficient. Do you want to eat oatmeal the rest of your life? Of course not. You want a habanero bacon milkshake with a flaming bourbon chaser. While something like a new Shelby Mustang GT350 seems like the perfect cure for the common car, it is still comfortable, refined, and safe. Let’s call it an oatmeal cookie. Good, and good for you. But that’s not the point. At the very minimum, we should consider things like the Honda S2000. I attempted a long distance trip in one and arrived at my destination deaf and contorted. It didn’t even get very good gas mileage because it was singing along at 4800RPM the whole time. An even better idea would be a Jeep old enough to have leaf springs. I know for a fact that they leave the ground over every frost heave. Anything built by International Harvester would also fit the bill. And, I knew a guy once that drove a Winston Cup car everywhere. That’s right, full-on-race-car on the street. I don’t know how he put tags on it, but it was legal as far as I knew.

Four-door pickup trucks and cute-utes are boring. In fact, anything that comes with a warranty is boring. You should have something in the driveway that makes you want to drive it for no reason. Almost any modified or hand built car will work. Stiff suspensions, loud engines, and questionable paint schemes make life more interesting. It doesn’t have to be expensive, either. Something like a decent Honda CRX Si is more fun than any new car. Old BMW M-cars were all amazing. Any Alfa Romeo will work. Porsche has built literally a million cars that will make you happy. And if all else fails, get a motorcycle. Because when it comes down to it, you can always rent a car to go to grandma’s house. She isn’t impressed with your LS swapped Corvair, anyway.

Sensible Shoes

I think of myself a reasonably intelligent man, and could lately even be considered somewhat mature. I eat right and exercise regularly. I use jack stands when climbing under my car. I put my dishes in the dishwasher. I brush and floss. I perform my job with the minimum acceptable level of whining. I represent the ideal life insurance candidate. And yet, I still desperately want a Meyers Manx dune buggy. A car that any rational, logical person would immediately recognize as uncomfortable, impractical, and even a little dangerous. Especially with a 300 HP Subaru boxer hanging out the back.

And my egocentrism is not limited to hand built dune buggies. There are some quite silly cars available at your local new car dealership. The 911 GT3RS, Challenger Hellcat or even an F150 Raptor are completely unnecessary and impractical. They are stupid symbols of immaturity and narcissism. Regardless, they each come with factory warranties, free roadside assistance, all scheduled maintenance, and even a free set of floor mats if you take it home today.

And it has always been this way.  Back when I was a kid there was a guy in high school who drove a black Turbo Trans Am. You know, the one with a gold flaming chicken on the hood and three “turbo-charge” lights in the hood scoop. It was the coolest thing I had ever seen. Of course, I was thirteen years old. To thirteen-year-old boys, Trans Ams, Hellcats, and Raptors make perfect sense. They tend to be noisy and are usually painted in bright, primary colors.  But to the rest of us, mature adults with mortgages and health insurance, any car with less than four doors is simply ridiculous. We swoon over reliable cars that get good gas mileage. I can’t tell you how many times I have been offered a beer due to my sensible plug-in hybrid crossover’s palpable reduction of greenhouse gasses.

Not really. For one thing, I don't have a plug-in hybrid anything.  In addition, no man has ever offered another man a beer because of his sensible anything. The words “I love your beard and crocks, man, have a micro-brew on me” have never been uttered in that order. Indiana Jones was not a good archaeologist because he could spend countless hours researching ancient texts. The greatest spy in the world, despite the fact that everybody knows his identity, is James Bond. And nobody cares about the gas mileage ratings of monster trucks. Sensible and logical belong in things like space capsules or food safety. But they have no place in interesting cars.

The point is the people who want silly cars can’t possibly pay for them. And the people established enough to pay for silly cars don’t want one. But that must also be a lie because Manx dune buggies definitely exist. So do Cobra replicas, Trans Ams, Hellcat Challengers, and even F150 Raptors. Taken as a business proposition, interesting cars are always going to fail.  Ford sells more F150’s in a couple of hours than the total 50-year production of every Manx dune buggy.  And even though manufacturers of silly cars come and go, enough of them stick around to prove we are not all rational, logical human beings. Thank Goodness.

Parallels

I read a lot of science fiction.  You know, the stuff with faster than light travel, sentient machines, alien species, human immortality. Of course, it’s all a massive load of bollox, but I enjoy it.  I guess speculative technology is appealing to me.  But there is a certain branch of science fiction that can really get my noggin goin’.  The idea of parallel universes.  Basically the idea that there are universes out there beyond our perception. Plenty of books, TV, and movies have dipped into the deep well that is parallel universes. TV’s Fringe was completely based on the idea. The latest incarnation of Star Trek is a parallel universe where Jim Kirk does not inexplicably turn into TJ Hooker at some point. It could even be said that all fiction is based in a parallel universe since real life is certainly not fiction. There are even a few scientists out there who think it might be possible.  Without getting too boring (I’m not trying to be Wikipedia) Brane Cosmology could provide some sort of justification for the existence of parallel universes.  So it makes me wonder, what would a parallel universe look like?

Since Branes (alternate realities) are infinite, I am sure there is one where I am King of the Universe.  In that Brane, BBQ is a health food, everybody minds their own damn business, and there are no boring cars.  In other Branes, North America may not have been discovered by Europeans until much later, allowing the indigenous people a chance to defend themselves.  Or there might be a Brane where yeast does not work, and there is no beer or bread.  There could even be a universe where magic exists, but only a few people can use it.  They might have a secret society where giants, dragons, and a flying Ford Anglia exist but are unknown to normal people, who are known by an ambiguously insulting name.  Something like “Muggles.”  And there could be a school, accessed by a hidden platform at King's Cross Station…  But I digress.

Pondering the possibilities, I wonder what it would look like had our world developed slightly to the left of the one we inhabit.  Or to the right, or above, or below.  I am not being political here.  Imagine if mass production had fizzled out in the 1930’s.  The world economy would be unrecognizable.  Technology would stagnate.  But, if you wanted a new hat, it would be a really good one.  And you would know the guy that made it. Or, imagine if the analytical engine had been fully developed, ushering in the computer age fully 100 years early. What if the Romans had used their (admittedly rudimentary) steam engines for something other than party tricks. And there is always the frightening proposition of Hitler figuring out the atomic bomb before the Allies could.

Small deviations from the current norm could result in drastically different worlds.  For instance, had we not realized in the mid-1800’s that oil could be derived from something besides whales, the motor car simply would not exist.  The internal combustion engine is one of the most developed mechanisms ever conceived by man and is made possible by the enormous potential energy in gasoline.  Petroleum products are, for better or worse, the most efficient means we have of storing energy. Now imagine the world that had developed without shale oil.  Until the development of oil from the ground, the only source of petroleum fuel was whales. There are simply not enough whales in the oceans to support a carbon-based economy. As a result, technology would have advanced in other energy storage methods.  We might have created better batteries or even mechanical means of energy storage, but there is very little chance any of these methods of energy storage would have been compact, at least in the beginning. Without efficient energy storage, mass transit would necessarily have been developed.  After all, it is not very practical to have your own personal steam train. The population would have been centralized in cities.  Outlying areas would have remained undeveloped beyond farmland.  Governmental agencies would be organized differently.  Personal priorities would differ from current norms.  Everyday life in a world without oil would not resemble what now exists, and may be completely unrecognizable to us.

I am not making a judgment about our modern life, with all its scientific miracles and consequent pollution.  It is just that I spend most of my day involved with cars in some way.  What would my life be like had things developed differently.  I would probably still be interested in mechanical things, whatever they were.  But it makes me wonder what my priorities would be in a parallel universe where cars were not a part of daily life. Maybe instead, I would be a Chef developing healthy BBQ.

Because Corvette

I hate to be the one who must state the obvious: The Corvette is the best car in the world. It’s not the fastest, or the prettiest, or even the best made. But when you are considering spending your own money on a real sports car, it is nigh impossible to do better than a Corvette.

Declarative statements tend to make people mad.  Maybe I should be a little more specific before I start throwing down declarative statements.  Definitions are in order, or there will be misunderstandings.  In addition, specific definitions may help keep my teeth attached to my face, and not clattering across the floor.  The sports car is an attractive automobile intended to be driven for pleasure and speed, or the perception of speed, with all other considerations compromised. This definition of a sports car is intentionally ambiguous, yet surprisingly specific. Sports cars are not exclusively about speed, but they must be fast enough to entertain the driver. They are also not exclusively about beauty, but must not embarrass the owner with unnecessary frippery. A sports car should be relatively simple, have a reasonable power to weight ratio, and should not share a chassis with ordinary sedans. It must be rear wheel drive and have a manual gearbox. A racing pedigree would help, but since Nascar has been full of Dodge Intrepids, Ford Tauruses, and Toyota Camrys, maybe it really doesn’t matter after all. And it must make your mother uncomfortable.

While it is easy to identify a sports car, it is almost impossible to quantify.  Just as Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart so eloquently put it, “I know it when I see it.” An Audi TT is a fast car, but it is based on a Golf and has a front wheel drive chassis. It is not a sports car. The Mustang is somewhat comfortable, has a back seat, and is heavier than absolutely necessary. It is not a sports car.  The Mazda MX5 Miata is slow and has skinny tires, but is the pure analog of the sports car.  The Miata fits my definition perfectly, not because it is fast, which it certainly is not, but because it is built exclusively to entertain. It is just a coincidence that it is well made, has a trunk, and can be used as a normal car.

There is nothing wrong with a Mustang or Camaro or Nissan GT-R or Aston Martin DB11 or Hellcat.  But they are not sports cars. For one thing, they are all hideously expensive.  They are also silly fast.  Classics like a TR-6 or 240Z would be unable to outperform a base Accord, but they would deliver the perception of speed in a way simply impossible to attain in any modern car.  

It is no secret that I like old cars, but there is the issue of a lack of actual performance with many classics.  I would consider a classic Italian roadster a sports car, but there is no avoiding the fact that an Alfa Romeo Spider is slow.  I mean really slow.  Like Prius slow.  When considering sports cars, driving pleasure is high on the list, and the waiting would begin to annoy me at some point with a Spider.  Waiting on the damn thing to start on the morning I wanted to take a drive.  Waiting for parts to arrive from Italy so I could take a drive.  And on that day when driving became a reality, waiting on the road to flatten out so I could get out of second gear.  A car like the Spider would be more entertaining to polish than drive so it would not make my short list.  

The archetype of attractive, simple, affordable, and relatively fast always brings me back to something like the Corvette.  There are very expensive Corvettes, but avoiding anything from before the early 1970’s eliminates that problem.  Of course, that eliminates some of the most beautiful Corvettes, but there are still svelte designs in our price range.  It is not hard to find $4,000 1980’s models out there, but I want to be a little more ambitious than that.  The C3 Stingray with plastic bumpers is a prime candidate.  From 1974 onward the Corvette lost its chrome ends.  We can thank a certain Green Party Presidential Candidate for that.  It is not impossible to find an early C3 in need of restoration for reasonable money, but they are still double the price of a later car.  And besides that, I like to modify cars a little, and anything I did to a chrome bumper car would reduce its value.  So, settling on a 1976 Corvette nets a sugar scoop rear window, quad round pop-up headlights, chrome eyeball vents, classic high-back buckets, funky rotating slider climate controls, a knobber radio, and dainty chrome door mirrors.  It also earns you a wheezing  +/- 200 HP 350, a dim-witted automatic transmission, and cutting edge 1950’s suspension technology.  But any car this old will need a little mechanical love, and that is where the magic is found.

Restoration is shockingly simple with any classic Corvette.  There are numerous suppliers of specialty parts, making those hard-to-find items not so hard-to-find.  Of course, a little modification would accompany any restoration, and it is simple enough to accomplish.  The Carter era lump and slushbox can be easily modified, or better yet, swapped with an LS and six speed.  And the stone-age suspension and brakes can be updated and improved.  With a budget of (considerably) less than $20K a very fast, reliable classic can be built.  It would have the styling and mechanical honesty modern cars necessarily lack.  And, unlike a European classic, it is substantial enough to avoid that fragile feeling common to cars like MGs and Triumphs.  In addition, a resto-mod Corvette would deliver the complete driving experience expected from a sports car, while avoiding the unfavorable judgment usually reserved for people in overtly expensive or rare cars.  

And you would never lose a dime on it.  That’s why the answer is always Corvette.