A few days after GM's vice president of vehicle sales, service and marketing assured auto industry analysts that his employer will maintain incentive-free “value pricing," General Motors announced two grand cash back on the 2007 Chevrolet Tahoe, Avalanche and Suburban and the GMC Yukon, Yukon XL and Denali. To be fair, nobody took LaNeve’s price promise seriously. By now, everyone knows GM’s new(ish) SUV’s are a drug on the market, and it ain’t Viagra. There’s only way to move the metal: lower the price. Either that or stop making the damn things.

An airport car rental attendant recently handed me the keys to my temporary chariot and declared “Your car is down the row to your right. It’s an ‘06 Uplander.” A what? “It’s kind of an SUV,” she kind of explained. The butt-end of a something large and ugly poked out of stall 97. The bow tie on the trim above the license plate revealed the vehicle’s manufacturer: Chevrolet.  Apprehensively, I slid behind the wheel of the awkward-looking beast. I looked around. I turned to my colleague. “No wonder GM is in such bad shape.”

The National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA) has a mission: “Save lives, prevent injuries, reduce vehicle-related crashes.” NHTSA also commits itself to “providing the most accurate and complete information available to its customers, the American traveling public.” While NHTSA’s progress towards its stated goals is (and always will be) a matter of debate, the agency has failed us. They’ve failed to tell the truth about ABS.

Backseat branding is easy. Porsche? Sports cars. Ford? Sedans. Hummer? Assault rifles. Maserati? Who knows? The company likes to promote a philosophical connection to its distinguished racing heritage. But Maserati's competitive heyday ended on May the twelfth 1957, when the Marquis de Portago’s Ferrari somersaulted into the crowd at Guidizillo, triggering a vicious pan-European anti-motor sports backlash. Since then, Maserati has concentrated on making unreliable sports cars and sporting sedans. These days, the resurgent automaker builds Jaguars.

It's no secret that Porsche's 911 dominates the American Le Mans Series GT2 Class. Given their supremacy, you could almost say that the German marque owns the series, setting performance and reliability standards so high that any car other than a 911 is immediately classified as an hapless underdog. But the lap times they are a changin’. Sure, a Porsche has won a place on the podium at every race so far this season. Yes, they’ve scooped first place at half of those races. But a new breed of competition is finally giving the current 996 GT3 RSR a real run for the money. To review…

Ever have one of those days where you seem to be at odds with all the motorized entities in your life? Where anything electrical fails, every warranty expires and all the things that you hope will hold out ‘til your next paycheck… don't? I had just such a day last spring, where I ended-up flat on my back, with the wind knocked out of me, lying under my own pickup truck.

Crunch time is coming. Whether or not GM can hobble through the third quarter intact, whether or not Ford can find a way forward, whether or not DCX will end up RIP, it’s clear that old Detroit is dead. Big unions, big plants, big markets, big dealers– 50’s-style automaking is headed for extinction. While TTAC will continue to chronicle this slow motion pile-up, I’d like you to cast your collective eyes to the future. What will the American automotive market look like after the reverse Big Bang? Will a range of boutique brands offer a limited lineup (e.g. Corvette, Saab, Cadillac)? Will cars be sold via Internet, creating mass customization? You tell me and then we’ll all know.

Small changes can have a major impact. Remember Jennifer Grey, the female lead in the film “Dirty Dancing?” Her fine proboscis lent her an air of distinction. Then she had reductive rhinoplasty and dropped out of sight. Although Audi's Auto Union-inspired snout seems to be going for the reverse effect, Mercedes is wise to the law of incremental effect. In the case of the CLS550, small changes have transformed a wannabe into a gotta have.

Obesity is rampant in America. Between the Center for Disease Control’s dire reports, documentaries like “Honey We’re Killing the Kids” and endless infomercials for every diet and exercise program imaginable, it’s obvious we’re becoming a nation of Fat Bastards and Sherman Klumps. Now the Environmental Protection Agency is sounding the alarm about our cars. The EPA recently announced that America’s vehicle fleet is the heaviest it’s been since Ford touted the Pinto’s “road hugging weight” as a safety feature. Our cars and trucks, like their drivers, are piling on the pounds.

Fresh from some serious seat time in the Ford Mustang GT Convertible, Jonny Lieberman rang up TTAC HQ to schmooze about all things automotive. After listening to JL sing the praises of Ford's rear wheel-drive rag top, I tried to ease the conversation towards the tectonic shift from fuel-sucking SUV's to more economical cars. Only Loverman wasn't having it. Sure, he noticed a fleet of Prii and scoped a seaside parking lot stuffed with SUV's, but whether or not the Prii were statistically relevant or the SUV's were GMT900's escaped his attention. Anyway, speaking to Jonny reminds me of a line from "My Favorite Year," when one of the writers for a New York-based comedy show announces his intention to move to Hollywood. "How can you be funny in Hollywood?" the head writer demands. "No one's miserable enough!" And yet, somehow, he manages. 

Last month, Toyota sold more vehicles in North America than Ford. Understandably, The Blue Oval Boys have refrained from public hand-wringing over their displacement in the US sale charts. But there is no underestimating the development’s damage to Ford’s corporate psyche. Newbie CEO Mark Fields was already deep into crisis management. Now, suddenly, it’s obvious that Ford’s turnaround cannot rely on pushing (deeply discounted) products and hoping and waiting for a Hail Mary pass. A brand new plan is set to be hatched at the end of the third quarter. The way forward is now in fast forward.

My local falafel joint has the world's smallest parking lot: just three spaces. The other day, I pulled in for supper and parked my sore-thumb standout Grabber Orange Mustang GT Convertible next to a Toyota Prius. The Prius owner was seated on the patio, munching his shawarma. The disparity between our two rides could hardly have been more stark. His: a futuristic, planet-saving, spaceship-looking personal statement.  Mine: a retro-tastic, oil-burning, bright orange throw-back drop-top. Sure, Prius person only has to visit the gas station once a week to my thrice, but c’mon, it was no contest. Unless you’re an accountant, the right brain wins every time. 

After more than two years of free content, The Truth About Cars is about to accept advertising– despite the publisher’s apprehension about advertising’s corrosive effect on editorial independence. It’s an understandable concern. Browse the auto "reviews" in your local daily newspaper. In the main, they consist of regurgitated press releases juxtaposed with stock photos, buried amongst dealer ads. The monthly automotive “buff books” claim they’re above such compromise. They maintain that they provide objective assessments of their test subjects. At the risk of throwing stones from a house about to add a greenhouse, can any publication that features more advertisements than content be objective?

We’ve all been there: deeply smitten by a witty, intelligent, urbane, drop dead gorgeous potential partner. Whether it’s an actual acquaintance or a distant celebrity, their innate hotness sets our souls ablaze. And then, eventually, familiarity breeds contempt. The wit becomes tiresome, the intelligence debatable, the urbanity mundane and the beauty– well that stays. Despite the obvious physical attractions, the time eventually comes when you realize that true love tends to forget. And yes, I’m talking about the Aston Martin V8 Vantage.

Last Thursday, Mark LeNeve declared that General Motors has “turned a corner.” Obviously, GM’s Vice President of North American Sales and Marketing was unaware of the phrase’s historical baggage. To wit: General William Westmoreland’s famous announcement that the American war effort in Indochina had “turned a corner”– just before North Vietnam’s Tet Offensive returned the corner. Since ‘68, any US authority figure announcing an angle exceeded instantly reveals themselves as a master of unintended irony, and sets themselves up for an ignominious defeat.