When I ordered my first Ferrari, I spent entire nights dreaming of rust, mechanical failures, stratospheric repair bills, cliff face depreciation, uncontrollable oversteer, towering monthly payments and long, expensive separations.  No wait; that was after I bought it.  Before the F355B graced my drive, my obsession had no hard edges– or time limits.  In fact, it got to the point where I considered taking out a no contact order on my imagination. So I understand Dave Plews' plight.  The London-based web designer wants a Veyron so bad he's gone a bit loopy. He's set up a website to try and raise money to buy the big Bug, selling lottery tickets to cars he doesn't have and mechandise I don't think you'd want. I called Dave to try to get a handle on the logistics of this enterprise, and discovered a man possessed is a man prevaricating. Still, TTAC wishes "Supa Dave" luck. If he succeeds, I'll gladly chip in for one of those pine tree air fresheners. 

My favorite car name of all time is the Honda Life Dunk.  But I can fully appreciate pistonheads whose taste in automotive monikers runs more towards the aggressive (Mercury Marauder, Plymouth Fury, Aston Martin Vaquish), animistic (Dodge Viper, Pontiac Firebird, Ford Mustang, Reliant Kitten) or snoberific (Buick Regal, Dodge St. Regis, Buick Park Avenue, Chrysler LeBaron).  As Chris Paukert noted in a previous TTAC editorial, automakers have submerged the [formerly] mission-critical name game into a watery alphanumeric soup.  The inanity of this approach is exemplified by Ford's decision to rename the Lincoln Zephyr the Lincoln MKX, and instruct its dealers (as of today) that the vehicle is not to be called a "Mark X" but an "em kay ex."  Are car names inherently better than simple numerical designations? What's your favorite and least favorite car name? Would a Ferrari F430 or Jaguar XK120 by any other other name be any more or less memorable or desirable?  

Years ago, I found myself killing time in a London wine bar.  An English gentleman and I were busy amusing ourselves with fine wine and, um, English food when a pair of extremely attractive unattached ladies strolled into the bar. Uninhibited by the best Bordeaux, we enticed these French beauties to join us at the bar.  The women eventually escaped our charms to establish base camp at their own table.  I continued to stare longingly at our lost companions– until one of them stretched her arms above her head to reveal unshaven underarms.  The Nissan Versa was like that.  

I’ve looked at this TTAC paid subscription thing seven ways to Sunday.  After more than four months, I still can't make it work.  According to the vast majority of web-savvy TTAC’ers, this is no bad thing.  Your advice has been steadfast: accept advertising.  So when Federated Media Publishing offered to run TTAC’s advertising business for 40% of gross, I looked into it.  My contact, Bill Brazell, assured me that TTAC’s editorial independence would be sacrosanct.  Yeah, right.  And then I read the fine print…

When I got my driving license, I couldn’t vote.  Legal drinking was a distant speck on the horizon.  But I didn’t care.  I was captain of my own ship, master of my own destiny.  Within a few months, the parental units provided regular access to the family hatch.  I treated this gift as a matter of life and death, because, well, it was.  By that time it was clear that my friends’ driving habits were the greatest threat to my continued existence.

Should America be fuelling its vehicles with corn-based E85?  Now there’s a question worthy of public debate.  Meanwhile, the question’s been settled.  E85 is coming to a pump near you, whether you like it— or use it— or not.  The political momentum behind the fuel is enormous, including huge CAFE (Corporate Average Fuel Economy) credits for manufacturers that build vehicles that will never see a drop of corn juice.  In fact, the production and distribution of E85 involves a strange mix of politics and economics which could well lead to a dead end.  Following the money may make your head spin, but it's high time to separate E85 facts from the politically correct fug of obfuscation. 

With only 750 American gas stations providing the corn juice for flex-fuel vehicles, there's more E85 hype than E85.  Which is the point collegiate road tripper Mark Pike and his cohorts over at kicktheoilhabit.org decided to make by attempting an E85-only trek across the North American landmass in flex-fuel Crown Vic supplied by the bad mo fo's at FoMoCo.  In the PR sense, the trip's a hit.  Pike's Vic has garnered a bushel of free publicity for the supporters of fuel coming from Billy Ford's "heartland."  Of course, the socio-polticial issues surrounding E85 production, transportation and provision are only slightly less complex than the home assembly instructions for a Bowflex Versatrainer. [Read Mark Hasty's post on E85 economics on tomorrow's TTAC.]  A quick call to Mr. Pike revealed that the flex-fuel campaigner is a bit of a piker in terms of the fine print, but props are due.  The most socially responsible thing I ever did during my college vacation was making sure that my empties were placed in a proper trash receptacle. 

Why in the world would General Motors want to hitch their wagon to Renault – Nissan?  Synergy?  Don't make me laugh.  I reckon the answer is simple: GM's Board of Bystanders and CEO Rabid Rick Wagoner aren't interested in hooking-up with Carlos "The Jackal" Ghosn's mob.  They gotta pretend to be interested on account a due diligence.  Lest we forget, Kirk "The Quiet Lion" Kerkorian launched this whole cockamamie scheme to inflate GM's stock price so he could recoup his $1b loss.  Done.  But now Nissan says it ain't giving GM a dime, no matter what.  Which takes the deal from dumb to dumberer ('cause the one thing GM could use from the Franco-Japanese conglomerate is cash money.)  OK, great.  But here's my question: why did Nissan – Renault play along with Kirk in the first place?  Do we really believe Carlos' claim that he wants to bulk-up against Toyota?  Did Kirk promise him a shot at running the world's largest potential bankruptcy?  I'd appreciate a little help parsing this bastard.  Your thoughts? 

According to BMW’s ad for its M products, “history and compromise cannot be made at the same time.”  Huh?  What about The Missouri Compromise, the Camp David accord and The SALT treaty?  The headline’s patent absurdity is capped by the copy’s intellectual inanity.  “Nothing about our M cars is a compromise.”  Anyone familiar with automaking knows it’s nothing but compromise: design vs. packaging vs. performance vs. technology vs. price vs. regulations vs. cost vs. time vs. internal and external resources.  To suggest otherwise isn’t just wrong, it’s nuts.  A very strange kind of nuts… 

A new TTAC podcast feature is born: a conversation with a car salesman about what's going down on the front line.  We begin with my go-to Porsche guy, Kirk Stingle.  Kirk's been selling Porkers for 10 years, establishing a large fan base of devoted buyers down in Southern New England.  When the Cayman S first arrived at the permanent construction site known as Inskip Porsche, Kirk told us that the mid-engined tin top confused a lot of Boxster and 911 buyers. According to the man with the million dollar smile, there's still a bit of a bun fight amongst the models.  And it's getting worse, what with a smaller-engined Cayman and bigger engined Boxster due soon.  But who cares?  Sales are up across the board. You pays your money, you gets your Porsche. 

I recently visited Stanley Sheinbaum. Back in the day, "Citizen Stan" was a Vietnam protester, a member of Daniel “Pentagon Papers” Ellsberg’s defense team, a US contact for PLO leader Yasir Arafat and the head of the police commission that forced Chief Darrel Gates to resign in the wake of the L.A. Riots.  In other words, his liberal credentials are flawless. "You write about cars?" Stanley demanded.  "Have you seen 'Who Killed the Electric Car?" Stanley's in his 80's, but he still has a team of Prius-driving people working for him.  Obviously, Stan and his friends have their hearts in the right place vis-à-vis hybrids and saving the environment and all that, but where are their  heads?  Is there really a Detroit/Big Oil conspiracy working against high mileage passenger cars?  Or are the electric/hydrogen/hybrid car supporters so enamored with their own politics they can’t hug the forest from the trees?  Don't they understand that the power has to come from somewhere?  Your thoughts?

If you want to judge a restaurant, don’t order the chef’s specialty.  Go for the hamburger or the omelet.  If the man in the funny hat prepares these prosaic dishes with the same passion he puts into his Suprème de Turbot Rôti aux Asperges Vertes et à l'Ail en Chemise, you have a winner.  The same applies to cars.  If you want to judge an automaker’s prowess, check their basic models.  Scope the ones with standard engines and base interiors that hide in the back of the lots.  A few miles behind the wheel tells you more about the manufacturer’s passion for product than anything their spinmongers could ever publish.  Which brings us to the Impala LS. 

On the same day TTAC published Sajeev Mehta's less than flattering review of the Lucerne, a Buick spinmeister emailed the site to offer a cross-Canada jaunt in said sedan.  To their credit, GM's Zen division (Beyond Precision?) weren't daunted by the Divine Mr. M's mauling of their quiet tuned car.  The offer stood.  So Sajeev gathered-up his wits– and his Mom– and flew off to sample the Moonie-like millieu known as a GM junket.  Sajeev's willingness to confront his, um, confrontees illustrates the writer's spirit of adventure and his dedication to the truth.  That's one of the key reasons the Houston-based writer has quickly become one of TTAC's core reviewers. The other is… style.  Time to meet and greet the man who rolls in American splendor.    

It wasn't that long ago that Audi was known for creating cars that ran over their owners.  After the “sudden unintended acceleration" debacle, the company went on to establish a rep for building high tech cars of dubious mechanical quality.  Although Audi’s position at the bottom of JD Power’s 2005 Vehicle Dependability survey doesn’t indicate much movement on this residual critical reliability front, the company claims to be addressing the issue.  Meanwhile, Audi’s got a secret weapon in the battle to carve out a bigger chunk of the US car market: diesel. 

Watching the reveal on Pimp My Overhaulin' American Hot Rod, I was amazed to see an olde school muscle car receive a 700hp engine implant.  As was the new/old owner.  "Man, I only go 80mph on the highway, tops."  Am I the only one who thinks it peculiar that our current fascination with CAFE standards, tailpipe emissions and street legal golf carts coincides with the widespread dissemination of massive horsepower?  The new GTO made 400 the new 300, while the new M5 makes 500 the new 400.  And so it goes.  Yesterday, octogenarian musclehead Carroll Shelby predicted that the current horsepower wars will end at 600 – 700hp.  “The insurance companies will be the deciding factor, as well as the EPA, the government and so forth.”  Where/when/how do you think Musclemania II will cease?  Or will it?  Even if high hp whips leave the scene, will "clean" diesels and hybrids keep the torque times flowing?  Is all this power safe for most drivers? Your thoughts please…