This is the very car that inspired “Curbside Classics.” I’ve been admiring its blocky solidity for ten years, whenever its owner and I happen to workout at the Y simultaneously. I can count on its reassuring, unchanging presence at least a couple of times a month (an anchor of constancy in this turbulent world). And you can’t get much more anchor-like than this cast-iron 1951 Plymouth Cranbrook. But anchors sink, and this car began Plymouth’s long dive into the deep blue. Read More >
The Insurance Institute for Highway Safety (IIHS) recently performed a series of crash tests to garner widespread MSM coverage to justify their enormous operating budget to the insurance companies that pay for the “don’t tell anyone we’re not from the government” organization’s existence—I mean demonstrate the heretofore unimaginable fact that small/lightweight cars get the snot kicked out of them when they collide front-to-front with medium size cars, despite the fact that the small cars involved received the IIHS’ best possible frontal crash ratings. All this came as no surprise to Mike Dulberger, founder of InformedForLife.org.
Mr. Dulberger is an engineer with an OCD vehicle safety thing. He reckons the IIHS and National Highway Transportation Safety Administration (NHTSA) safety ratings are “confusing, conflicting and incomplete.” Amongst other criticisms, Dulberger slates the two heavyweights for failing to adequately consider the contribution of a given vehicle’s mass to its overall safety. So Dulberger developed has own analysis—SCORE (Statistical Combination Of Risk Elements)—to rectify this and other shortcomings.
As you might expect, the small/lightweight cars crash tested by the IIHS fared badly under Dulberger’s SCORE system. Of the three small vehicles tested, the Smart Fortwo held special significance for Mr. Dulberger. Sherman, set the wayback machine for October 2008 . . .
On that fateful date, Dulberger was asked to share his SCORE analysis with Forbes (magazine), as part of their annual “2009 Most Dangerous Vehicles” article. Dulberger duly fingered the Smart (that doesn’t sound right) as a bit of a . . . well . . . you know.
“Not only does the smart have a high risk due to its low weight (1800 lb),’ Dulberger asserts, ‘it also has the lowest NHTSA frontal rating (three stars, passenger side) of any 2009 vehicle. And because of its top heavy design, the smart has almost twice the rollover risk of the average passenger car.”
In fact, the Smart received one of Informedforlife.org’s lowest ever SCOREs: 130. According to Dulberger, the number represents more than twice his system’s “acceptable” fatality risk. All this he told Forbes.
Unfortunately (for the consumer), Forbes forgot to publish Dulberger’s smart conclusions. He believes the sin of omission was the direct result of objections raised by Smart USA’s President, David Schembri.
Before Forbes ran its piece, Schembri somehow got a hold of Dulberger’s phone number and gave him an earful. The Smart guy declared flat out that his car was safe. After all, the IIHS had rated it “GOOD.” Schembri told Dulberger any assertion to the contrary was wrong, irresponsible and, how shall we put this? Actionable.
And so Dulberger’s smart safety slam was spiked. This is what they published instead:
What’s most important for buyers is finding cars that are safe but also suited to their individual needs. The 1,808-pound, $11,990 Smart Fortwo, for example, is the smallest car on the road and received solid safety ratings for both crashes and rollovers–it didn’t come close to making our list. But that doesn’t make the car the safest or best for a large or tall person.
“The NHTSA data simply does not support that conclusion,” Dulberger insists. “Three stars for passenger side frontal impact is the lowest rating by NHTSA for any vehicle, and three stars rollover is the lowest rating by NHTSA for any passenger car.
“It’s hard to believe that this misrepresentation is a mistake given the fact that I pointed these same issues out to them. . . I guess Forbes believes that ‘safety first’ means testing a manufacturers reaction to its editorial content before publishing.”
Or not, when everyone else goes first. And even in that case, well, it’s hard to read this excerpt from Forbes‘ coverage of the recent IIHS smart debacle the same way, knowing Dulberger’s tale.
In the crash test between the C-Class and Fortwo, for example, the Smart bounced off the C-Class and turned 450 degrees before landing and displacing the instrument panel and steering wheel through the cockpit. The C-Class had almost no intrusion of the front gears into the passenger area.
Granted, the IIHS tests are much more severe than government safety standards mandate, as small-car proponents often note. The Smart Fortwo meets all U.S. government crash-test standards, including a five-star side-crash rating, notes Dave Schembri, the president of Smart USA. It also earned the highest scores for front- and side-crash worthiness from the IIHS itself.
As for the pressure that Smart may or may not have been brought to bear on Forbes, that may or may not have involved advertising, what did you expect? The truth about cars?
According to a recent Fox News “Special Investigation,” the amount of illegal street racing is rising dramatically in Los Angeles. During the report, the segment highlighted a variety of small Japanese cars, ranging from ’98 Acura Integras to ’02 Honda Accords. (Small range, but there you go.) Some of these cars wore slicks, most had a turbo charger and all of their exhausts were in (or out of) tune. During the commercial break, viewers were treated to a trailer for “The Fast & Furious” (known internationally as “The Fast & Furious 4″). One moment Fox is lamenting the senseless loss of life caused by street racers’ pursuit of automotive adrenalin, the next it promotes a senseless movie about street racers’ pursuit of automotive adrenalin. Wait; it gets worse.
After the break, the talking head introduced a segment entitled, “How towns are helping to stop this dangerous culture.” (Street racing, not the Hollywood producers behind the Fast & Furious movie). The town featured (without even a raised eyebrow to indicate the irony): Victorville.
Victorville is a small town in what’s called Apple Valley. If we are to believe our eyes (OK, cue in the cow!), bovines and humans share Victorville’s streets. Which are now, as you’d imagine, plagued with street racers. That the local police are determined to eradicate like farmers facing bovine spongiform encephalopathy.
Yes, in this land that urbanization forgot, the police department is “cracking down” on all cars that have been “tuned” for racing. They’re handing out $300+ citations ofor automobiles with an exhaust that makes some noise, chromed air intakes, and, worst of all, a turbocharger.
What possible harm could come from a small turbo attached to a relatively underpowered car? Shiny air filters? An exhaust that likes to howl every time the accelerator gets stepped on? Lamborghini and Ferrari adhere to same basic philosophy on a much greater scale, and you don’t see them being given a ridiculous fine. OK, Lamborghini and Ferrari ownership is a kind of ridiculous fine. But the point remains: what is the point?
The modified vehicles preferred by “fans” of the street racing culture may encourage illegal behavior, but so do rap lyrics (some, still). Until Bill O’Reilly is elected dictator, Americans still have the right to pose like bad mo’ fo’s, whether its outside a club or in their car. Anyway, I’ve come up with a solution to the “growing problem” of illegal street racing (I’m still working on the Vin Diesel thing).
The police should seek out (and not sleep with) girls who look like Jordana Brewster and Megan Fox (different movie but who’s complaining). After the inductees sign over the movie rights to their lives, they should be commissioned as undercover operatives. The police should educate them about vehicle dynamics (e.g., torque steer and downforce), and then brainwash them into believing that anthropomorphic global warming is the greatest threat to mankind since that gigantic asteroid that took out most of North America. Oh wait, that was a movie too. Never mind. Just tell them it was based on a actual event.
The undercover officers should then seek out the illegal street racers. Arranging their clothing in a suitable manner (i.e., removing strategic parts of their ensemble), the babes should explain to the boy racers that really hot girls don’t like noisy cars with stupid things sticking out of them, or bright lights creating a hovercraft effect (that’s so ’60s). Hot girls prefer a factory-spec ride that’s comfortable, clean and bone stock (so to speak).
If the racer seems receptive (Paul Walker-a-likes may need apply), the officers should then say what really turns them on: hypermiling. “You’d be amazed at what you can do in a car when you go really, really slow.” On second thought, how about “How can you belch all that CO2 into our atmosphere? Think about our children!” Nope, same thing. I’ve got it! Anti-anti-establishment is the new anti-establishment. Tarianism. And while they’re mentally incapacitated with that, the officers could install a speed limiter.
I know: that would be the equivalent of fitting all private gun owners with ankle bracelets. Which destroys my whole argument while making perfect sense. Anyway, the anti-street racing hot babe unit would be far less intrusive (excepting the Paul Walker reference above) and a lot less expensive than impounding cars, sanctioning drivers, making documentaries or commissioning an army of policemen to stop a street race.
Even better, the U.S. Army’s PsyOps unit could train this cleavage of hotness to destroy the street racing driver’s ego (“you suck!”) so that he (or less likely she) would have to find some way to compensate for the resulting lack of self-esteem. Something like . . . illegal street racing. You know what? This idea needs a little work. Or at least a better screenplay.
TTAC’s very own Paul Niedermeyer writes:
I bought my ’05 Scion xB two years ago (used) with 15k miles. Perfect condition; mommy driver. Within a couple of weeks, I started hearing a chirping sound when the clutch was not engaged (pedal up); it stopped as soon as I put some pressure on the pedal. Bad throw-out bearing! Dealer confirms, replaces bearing, resurfaces flywheel, and throws in a new clutch as “goodwill gesture.” I’m very happy with how I was treated (it was under warranty, of course). They tell me these bearings hardly ever fail; I must have gotten a fluke bad bearing.
As TTAC approaches its 500th Bailout Watch, the autoblogosphere is abuzz with bailout-related news. But first, a word from a TTAC reader experiencing schadenfreude by proxy. “Robert, I think you are going to need some counseling if GM doesn’t crash and burn. Your little columns are getting more breathless by the week. Best to make some therapy appointments in advance, cause it aint going to happen. Keep up whatever it is, I enjoy glancing at it.” [Jeff, is he saying my therapy sessions ain’t gonna happen?] [Robert, yes, he is.] So, as I remind my electronic correspondent to remember to turn off the lights on the way out, here’s what’s going down in the Motown district of Bailout Nation . . .
Obama plays the class card – President Obama has addressed the pressing political problem we can loosely term “why the NSFW are giving these Detroit guys a second chance?” The Detroit News reports:
Obama on Tuesday defended his decision to give the two automakers more time to resolve their problems, despite harsh criticism from Republicans who said the companies had made no progress.
“We owed that not to the executives whose bad bets contributed to the weakening of their companies, but to the hundreds of thousands of workers whose livelihoods hang in the balance. Entire towns, entire communities, entire states are profoundly impacted by what happens in the auto industry,” Obama said.
Obama’s Fervent Hopes for Change – I suddenly “get” the beauty of Obama’s “Hope and Change” ethos: you can hope for change, but if it doesn’t happen, you avoid the blame. Here’s what I really, really hoped for. But hey, NSFW happens. Don’t blame me. I did the vision thing. AND I did my best to make it happen. They screwed it up. Bad them! Bad bad bad them! (What was my therapist’s number again?)
“It is our fervent hope that in the coming weeks, Chrysler will find a viable business partner and that GM will develop a business plan that will put it on a path to profitability without endless support from the American taxpayer.”
Fiat CEO: No Union Concessions, No Deal – As TTAC commentator PCH101 has pointed out at least 1,245 times, the United Auto Workers’ (UAW) and Canadian Auto Workers’ (CAW) contracts with American automakers are not the be-all end-all of their profitability, or lack thereof. In fact, in this case, the UAW’s genetic recalcitrance may be a convenient excuse for Fiat to extricate itself from the do-or-die (for Auburn Hills) Chrysler—sorry, what do you call it? Merger? Marriage? Co-dependency?
Anyway, The Globe and Mail scores the scoop that Fiat CEO Sergio Marchionne’s ardor for ChryCo isn’t quite so fervent anymore, with less than two weeks to the feds latest hard stop on life-sustaining Chrysler “loans.”
“Absolutely we are prepared to walk. There is no doubt in my mind,” Sergio said. “We cannot commit to this organization unless we see light at the end of the tunnel . . . The minute you talk to me about historical entitlement in an organization that is technically bankrupt, it’s a nonsensical discussion. There is no wealth to be distributed.”
Fiat CEO: True Story. It’s All About Me – I didn’t bother reporting on rumors that Fiat’s CEO was looking to take over the top slot at the ailing American automaker from Bob “You Want Me to Leave? You Gotta Pay Me” Nardelli. I mean, why would anyone expect the Presidential Task Force on Autos to install an Italian CEO at the head of an American automaker looking to for a double-dip of US taxpayer billions? My bad.
Short of injecting funds into Chrysler, Mr. Marchionne said Fiat will do whatever it takes to revive Chrysler, including offering himself up as CEO. “Fundamentally, that’s possible, but the title isn’t important,” he said. “What’s important is that they hear me. It’s possible that I will have to divide my time between running Fiat and running Chrysler.”
GM Retirees Wake-Up to C11 Pension Disaster – Although the federal Pension Benefit Guaranty Corp. (PBGC) has previously warned both GM and Chrysler employees that the companies looted their pension funds (to the point where a C11 would wipe out the majority of their money), The Detroit News serves-up this timely reminder:
“The fact is that people are going to see some reductions that obviously they hadn’t planned for,” PBGC acting director Vince Snowbarger said. “They have had a promise made to them that is not being kept and all we can do is try to step in and help out a little bit.”
Define little? When GM terminates its pension plan, the PBGC says it would assume $4 billion of the $20 billion promised. At Chrysler, the PBGC would assume $2 billion of the $9.3 billion shortfall.
Looks like I’m not the only one who’s going to need some therapy (what’s the bet the feds fund the UAWs?). Oh, wait. This isn’t going to happen. Carry on then.
The New York Times reports that hecklers are verbally assaulting GM’s booth babes at the New York Auto Show. Worse, the glamor girls are wearing last year’s dresses. Literally. This is not what you’d call death with dignity. This is GM on federal life support, drooling and soiling itself uncontrollably as it waits and waits and waits for someone somewhere to pull the damn plug already. As I’ve asserted in the past few episodes of this series, I no longer believe GM can be revived. The company is brain dead. No matter what cancerous parts of The General’s terminally ill body Uncle Sam’s surgeons separate from the corporate body, GM can’t function as an independent entity. Chevrolet and Cadillac? Building what? For whom? At what profit? Both of those brands are money losers losing market share right now. They may have volume but they ain’t got game. Of course, that’s not going to stop the feds from trying to revive GM. And boy, are they—I mean “we”—going to piss away a LOT of money.
In 37 days the Presidential Task Force on Automobiles (PTFOA) will force GM to file for Chapter 11. A friendly bankruptcy judge will then split the artist formerly known as “the world’s largest automaker” into “good” GM and “bad” GM. “Good” meaning a new(ish) American carmaker, freed from a mountain of debt, pesky union contracts, health care obligations, pensions, unprofitable brands, outdated factories, commitments to Delphi, etc. “Bad” as in all that worthless NSFW piled into one place, where the creditors can squabble with each other over its worth until death do them part.
This the PTFOA will do in the name of jobs, jobs, jobs. Or, more accurately, finding a way to support GM with [your] federal tax money without completely alienating the 70 plus percent of Americans who are against supporting GM with [their] federal tax money.
Politically, the split makes sense—but only if the US government takes an equity position in the “new” GM. See? We didn’t throw billions of dollars worth of your hard-earned money down a rathole. We used it to help GM rise Phoenix-like from the ashes. It’s an investment. Uncle Sam gets to make a new cake and eat it too because GM’s current U.S. Treasury loans (call it $22.8 billion) are secured, backed by all of GM’s assets, including the assets owned by its subsidiaries.
The Fed’s claim on GM is junior only to the existing, secured, revolving credit facility (a pittance at about $5 billion). I repeat: GM’s federal loans are senior to all GM’s creditors, including the retiree trust claims (around $27 billion), GM bondholders ($29 billion) and the trade payables owed to suppliers ($22 billion).
Moving forward, leaving all of those “stakeholders” behind, “good” GM is looking for another $22 billion from the Treasury to fund its future operations. Oh, and an additional $6.6 billion to develop energy efficient vehicles and $6 billion from foreign governments. If Santa leaves all these presents under GM’s Christmas tree, all of this new money would ALSO be senior to existing unsecured creditors, ahead of payments to bondholders, the retiree trust and creditors.
Again, in exchange for their largesse, US (and foreign) taxpayers get a stake in the new, relatively unencumbered “Good” GM. The Treasury Department converts all of its current and upcoming senior secured debt into junior preferred stock. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, American Leyland.
Here’s the worst part: what if it doesn’t work? What if the PTFOA puts the paddles on the new, cancer-free GM and the patient fails to revive? I mean, if consumers are ignoring, eschewing and even heckling “old” GM, why does anyone think that “new” GM will recover or even maintain life-sustaining market share?
To pull that one off, Chevillac would have to steal customers from Honda, Toyota, Nissan, Hyundai, Ford, Mercedes, BMW, Infiniti, Audi, Lexus and all the rest. In five years, maybe. Short term? No NSFWing way. Damaged brands, damaged company. And if this American Leyland plan bites the dust, all of that preferred stock will be completely, 100 percent worthless.
Alternatively, the PTFOA could put GM into Chapter 7 and let someone try to make a go of whatever bits are make-a-go-able. And if politics demand it, Uncle Sam could spend that $34.6 billion worth of additional funds sending every UAW worker and supplier employee and Detroit-area pump jockey a big fat check.
Assuming (as we must) that common sense has nothing to do with this, the flip side is the really scary bit. What are the feds willing to do to “protect” their (your) investment in GM? As the “investment” gets larger, so does the pressure to make sure it doesn’t fail. The PTFOA has already fired GM’s CEO, gelded its Board of Bystanders and manipulated the bailout bill to send the automaker tens of thousands of sales. What’s next?
Whatever it is, you can bet it won’t benefit the American consumer.
[The following is another contribution from our anonymous ChryCo contact] I worked for Chrysler for many years in Product Development as a Design Engineer though I no longer do. I saw comments on a recent post by another employee asking why, when Chrysler merged with Daimler, did they still share platforms with Mitsubishi?
There was always such hope in the platform sharing at the start of every project (JS – Sebring (Mitsubishi), PM – Caliber (Mitsubishi), WK – Grand Cherokee / WD – Durango (Daimler). By sharing the same platform we were supposed to achieve economies of scale, reducing the overall initial investment and engineering effort. Ultimately, those savings vanished during the development of the platform.
In truth, inter-company platform sharing—whether with Mistubishi or Daimler—created a power struggle, as the platform’s respective “owners” struggled to adapt their respective vehicle’s suitability to their local market. The inevitable end result: compromised design AND marginal cost savings.
The Caliber / Sebring are too narrow for the U.S. market (Japanese market cars are more narrow), the Caliber’s suspension system has too much drive shaft angle due to Mitsubishi inherited design optimized for their engines (allowing torque steer). I didn’t work on that platform. But I believe that Mitsubishi dropped out of co-development early after the decision was made to share, resulting in less savings. But I know for a fact that the cost savings initially planned were not fully realized.
I did, however, work on the new Grand Cherokee.
This product was co-developed with Mercedes alongside their next generation ML and GL vehicles. From Chrysler’s perspective this platform made a lot of sense. New crash regulations meant the current Jeep platform would have needed substantial upgrades to be viable. The new Mercedes platform also addressed other issues with the current Grand Cherokee platform: small rear door openings, uncomfortable rear seats, limited wheel size, larger engine box for future emissions/crash.
Mercedes wanted to spread their development costs over Chrysler’s volume to lower piece prices. Internally, we knew that Mercedes gained more than Chrysler from this co-development deal. Our costs were higher than if we had clean sheeted it from the beginning.
What initially started off with many common areas (brakes, suspension etc), eventually resulted in a few common parts and only some savings. The future Grand Cherokee has a small glovebox due to the straight crosscar beam Mercedes engineers use to enhance their vehicle’s crash/stiffness. The cross car beam was eventually cast in magnesium by Chrysler vs steel by Mercedes due to divergence of design goals. Steel is good for strength for side crash or anti-vibration stiffness for improved steering column shake, while cast magnesium normally results in great packaging (big glovebox), costs more, and is lighter. Because the airbag had already been packaged and it couldn’t be moved (its location affects crash performance), the glove box size for the Jeep was already compromised by the initial design.
Mercedes’ focus was their uncompromising design objectives. Chrysler’s was usually cost or off road performance. Mercedes would rarely yield to Chrysler desires for cost savings, and the two teams would go their separate ways. Mercedes wanted a saddle design fuel tank (one tank shaped like a saddle with two fuel pumps at the lowest points) for a large fuel capacity, and for packaging for dual exhaust on the six cylinder. Chrysler wanted a single fuel tank for cost savings, but with a smaller capacity and only one pump. Divergence.
Mercedes is willing to package a mini-spare on their vehicle. Chrysler requires a full size spare as optional for SUV’s. Result: divergence in the rear end of the vehicle. A common floorpan stamping suffered a similar fate. The stampings were supposed to be the same part number (i.e. identical). But differences in small holes or studs in the body for mounting things (e.g. electrical components) quickly separated these parts.
The overarching problem: there was never alignment between the philosophies of the teams developing the vehicle. Mirror that on the Daimler acquisition of Chrysler. Technology transfer could only occur from Mercedes to Chrysler. They could donate their high cost platform to Chrysler with impunity but if they jointly developed a program, they risked their lineage. Who wants a Mercedes designed by Chrysler?
Chrysler on the other hand had to significantly redesign / retool a Mercedes platform to lower cost. On the surface the merger made sense but in reality, the two weren’t reconcilable. Ipso facto.
CAHIBOstep, TTAC’s biggest fan on our Facebook page, writes:
My owner’s manual recommends 91 octane gasoline for my turbocharged five-pot (Volvo T5). There’s no 91 octane gas in Illinois, only 87, 89 and 93. When I was at the gas station the other day, I decided that instead of buying 93, I would mix equal parts 89 and 93 to get 91 (89 + 93 = 182/2 = 91).
Does this actually work? Does this make me the cheapest person in the world?
Motown’s top suits are [still] insulated from “the ownership experience.” They drive carefully selected and prepped examples of their own products lovingly serviced by the company’s top wenches. I mean wrenches. The company replaces these perkmobiles before they can prove the old adage that getting older is not for sissies. The execs don’t experience the slings and arrows of outrageous service departments, nor, for that matter, their competitors’ products. They are the bubble boys, accompanied by buff book writers. In this month’s Motor Trend, the chronically undercapitalized arthur st. antoine offers this: “Full disclosure: At the moment, I don’t own an automobile. There are too many test cars, too little time.” So the st receives a new, carefully selected, meticulously prepped and thoroughly maintained press car EVERY WEEK. A full tank of gas, no insurance, no trips to the dealer (ever). None of the hassles of car ownership AND the unexpressed danger that writing something that takes him off the press car gravy train would costs him thousands of dollars per year. Now, about this month’s column . . .
Despite fessing-up to the fact that he doesn’t spend bupkis on personal transportation, st. antoine trots out a mental list of the cars he would buy—you know, if he had to. This for the benefit of party-goers who annoy him with regular requests for the car that he owns, and car makers, who should let his taste inform their manufacturing choices.
Volkswagen GTI – Our own Justin Berkowitz actually spent his own money on a [non press] GTI, and reported the familiar over-familiarity with his Volkswagen dealer’s service department. To say VW has something of a rep for unreliability and no-fun stealerships would be like saying that there are better places to have a steak dinner than The International House of Pancakes. But such considerations are but nothing to MT’s man, who calls the GTI a “no-brainer.” st. antoine warns that the car . . . isn’t the quickest in its class. “Who cares? Not me whenever I have a GTI for a weekend mountain fling.” Lucky you, then.
Jeep Wrangler Rubicon – Another car with a rep for unreliability. Not that we worship J.D. Powers’ mob, but the Wrangler notched up a four out of 10 for reliability. Safety is also an issue—for some. Not antoine. “I’d stretch to get a Rubicon ($29,315 base) with all the off-roading can-do, then wrestle with the choice of four doors (the roomy Unlimited makes more sense) or two (looks and feels more authentic to me).” Would it be a stretch to mention the gas the Jeep sucks in the name of slow forward progress?
BMW 335i sedan – Not that he’d gamble his own money on the ownership proposition, but st. antoine reminds us that the “Bahaus sledgehammer scores impressively on those depreciation charts used by accountants charging you $200 an hour to show you how much money you can save. So it actually makes some financial sense.” It must be asked: how much sense and what does HE know about it?
Ford Mustang GT Premium – File this one under TMI: “True, the Camaro likely has the edge in handling and modernity [how’s next Thursday for the loan guys?], but the Mustang is just more ‘me’ (feel free to inject ‘rough around the edges’ here). Where’d I put my Ray-Bans?” No offense to Ray-Bans [note to self: test driving glasses], but Ray-Bans?
Lotus Elise – I’m confused. Does the Elise cap st. antoine’s list of cars he’d own if he had to buy it with his current salary, or if he won the lottery? Is he suggesting that it’s a suitable car if he could STILL have access to all those press cars AND had to spend his own money on Lotus’s motorized tea-tray? No matter how you slice it, the Elise is the love that dare not speak its name—except to Motor Trend’s readers. “The cocktail-partiers don’t get this one. They always expect me to make sense.” Well that confirms it: not only does st. antoine not identify with his readers, he doesn’t hang with them either.
Insider gold, indeed. The cozy relationship between the automotive press and automotive manufacturers is a disgrace to both. The car makers don’t get genuine feedback on their cars (which would help them build more competitive cars), and the press don’t give their readers the truth about cars (which would help them buy better cars). Perhaps the upcoming motown meltdown will create a paradigm shift in the autoblogosphere, freeing both maker and critic to realize that honesty is the best policy.
A Stanza wagon? What the NSFW! Before you run for the exits/bookmarks, give me a minute to spell out my Curbside Classics criteria: 1) at least twenty-five years old; 2) used as a daily or regular driver; 3) shows the patina of age; 4) has a significant place in automotive history; 5) has a place in my personal automotive history; 6) has distinctive design features; 7) has an enthusiast following; 8) represents the unique carscape of Eugene; 9) is under-appreciated; and 10) inspires me to write about it. Believe me, the boxy Nissan (a.k.a. Prairie) is worthy. Read More >
GCH writes:
I bought a Ford truck in March 2008. By February 2009, after 10 weeks of winter, the magnesium chloride they put on the roads where I live had eaten through the chrome on all ten pieces of chromed plastic on the truck including the grill and door handles. Ford refused any warranty coverage whatsoever. According to Ford, it is apparently my fault I live in the mountains where mag chloride is used on the roads. The local dealer at least let me buy replacement parts at his cost. I replaced the grill with a painted one but none of the other parts are available in paint grade.
Ronman writes:
My issue is those front plastic headlight covers that go yellow. Is there an easy way DIY to polish them back to near-original state. I didn’t mention my car for the reason that I see them on a lot of different makes and models, and what annoys me even more than the inherent safety issue, is that how much would it cost manufacturers to use a good grade plastic that won’t go yellow after three years?
Shouldn’t there be a law enforcing lights that will stay clear, or are they going to start making earth saving bio-degradable seat belts that become outdated after about three years?
Saad writes:
Mr. Mehta, how do you measure the octane rating of fuel? I have a 2008 base-model Honda Civic, with the i-VTEC 1.8L 4-cyl. It is the India-Pakistan-spec Honda Civic and is similar to the one in the US. Although it does not require premium fuel, it is recommended and I’m worried we might not find good quality petrol in the rural countryside.
Where we are going, the only signs of civilization are bombed ruins from a war in ’71. And I am weary of regular already. In the Pakistan summers, it gets really hot over here (being a Desi yourself, surely you must know, and you’re in Texas!). If regular is used while the air conditioning is on the engine timing retards terribly and it sounds as if the pistons are colliding with the valves at nearly every sudden throttle tip-in.
John R writes:
My car has TPMS (Tire Pressure Monitoring System). I have a set of wheels with fresh summer Sumitomos from a previous car that will fit my Sonata, but they don’t have the radio doodad in the rim. These tires barely have 500 miles on them and they are just sitting around. I want to wear them out and be done with them. Is it okay to mount them if they fit?
The KitchenAid Espresso Pro Line—delivering 15 bars of pressure with a separate steam unit pump. Just holding it in my hands at the store convinced me. Solid weight, no rattle. Cast iron and proper machining, no plastic cheats anywhere. I was tempted to take the lid off and peek inside but didn’t. Given what would follow I should have pulled out an Umbraco-set and given it a go.
The steamer didn’t steam. Didn’t matter what setting I used. Water came out of the nozzle, but nothing you’d call steam. Dreams of frothy Cappuccinos were postponed, and I returned the unit. Got a phone call the same day telling me to come by and pick up a new one. Apparently, the problem was a well known one, and dismantling my Pro Line to fix it was too much bother.
I didn’t mind. Have never had the misfortune to get a true lemon from a car dealer, but as I understand it, you have to threaten them with abducting their closest relatives before they’ll even dream of letting you have a new replacement.
The Pro Line now delivered a fine jet of steam, and I was shooting Cappuccinos with the dexterity of a Milanese barista.
Until a few weeks in when the 15-bar pressure dropped to a trickle. I checked the metallic filter but it wasn’t clogged nor were the five feeder tubes. But the pressure wouldn’t have kept Costeau alive in the kids-only end of a pool.
I returned to the store. This time, the phone call came after a week. KitchenAid were pleased to offer me a replacement unit, “would I like the same color?” By now I had developed buyer’s remorse. When first wondering about which espresso-maker to buy, I had checked out a few. The exterior design of the KitchenAid, as well as the build, had lured me—but I had been thisclose to buying an Italian one. I knew that if I requested a switch they’d go along . . .
Couldn’t possibly be so unlucky that I’d get a third red lemon?
You bet I could. This one also developed a leak. A different symptom this time around. 15 atmospheres builds pressure, and if the hoses and tubing are not doing what they’re supposed to, liquid under pressure finds ways of escaping. The two dials fogged up from the excess moisture. I kept on making espressos that weekend. By Sunday evening the leak had developed into a spill, with water seeping out onto the kitchen bench. When I lifted the Pro Line the seep became a splash. Submerged electrics. Great.
I returned the unit. And got a new one. If you check Amazon and other sellers, you’ll find there are “remanufactured” Pro Line Espresso makers. These have been returned to Kitchenaid for a bionic redo. Bad initial design has its cost, and for Kitchenaid it must have been substantial. Someone had screwed up when spec’ing this espresso maker.
At this point I knew I’d never buy anything from KitchenAid again, another side effect of bad design. Disappoint a customer once too often, and you’ll find bagging them again just about impossible.
The fourth unit lasted six months before it blew a gasket, literally. This time it was the steamer unit, bringing me full cycle. Turned out that the seal of the top entry valve would burn off when the steam heater was left on. By now I was really longing for that Italian espresso maker—I knew it could be left on from now until 2012 without any trouble. A friend had one at work and always had it ready to go.
I didn’t return the clunker. Took it apart. What the heck. Even if they offered me another replacement it was just too much pain. I wanted an espresso maker that heated quickly (check), that had the proper pressure (check) and that was reliable (uncheck). The Pro Line was not it.
Disassembling was fun, though I can understand why they’re offering customers new ones. Fixing this unit is at least a day’s job, even with replacement parts handy. I’ve located the cause of the pressure loss, why leaks develop, and why the design makes the steamer moody. They haven’t been on a GM cost-cutting binge when putting it together. The parts are good, but the pressure and the heat build up is overwhelming the tubing and seals, which can’t keep up with repeated use.
I feel like the owner of a 2001 Land Rover Freelander, who finds out that LR effed up a whole engine design and that your only hope is a new engine under warranty.
Building a consumer product requires experience-based initial design, good prototyping, and some proper testing before you release it. KitchenAid, like quite a few car makers, are doing their testing in the field. Not recommended.
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