In theory, the Oldsmobile Aurora started something great for the GM’s Rocket division. In reality, the car that re-invigorated this brand died by the system that created it. Though Oldsmobile saw the writing on the wall, they didn’t go down without a fight. As the first TV spot proclaimed, “See what happens when you demand better?”
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Category: Capsule Reviews
Living in Breckenridge, Colorado, you need some sort of All-Wheel Drive setup. Snow remains the small town’s primary reason to exist. This explains the multitudes of Subarus, Audis, Volvos, and SUVs all equipped with four wheel motivation. Most drive away blissfully unaware of how recent this feature came to market (as little as 27 years ago). In 1980, Audi introduced the first permanently engaged all-wheel drive system in the Audi Quattro. Prior to this, all vehicles had a part-time system where only two wheels were driven most of the time, requiring driver intervention should the going get slippery. Audi changed all this by putting one driveshaft inside the other, saving space and weight and making it possible for a complex, permanently engaged system to function on a small car. Vorsprung durch Technik, baby!
When a car salesman tells you an expensive model’s pointless, nine times out of ten, it’s pointless. If he proffers this opinion in the depths of a recession, with new car sales lower than Bernie Madoff’s morals, it’s a dead cert. I’ve experienced this vehicular vertigo twice in the last week. First, when contemplating a zero-mile Honda Civic Mugen Si gathering dust in an otherwise empty former Saturn showroom. Second, whilst sitting in an Acura RL, moments away from an extended test drive. The salesman told me flat out that the Acura TL is a better car than the RL, hinting that anyone who buys an RL is a sap. As I’ve rated the TL as a one-star car, where do you go from there?
Driving Lexus’ top-of-the-line luxobarge, I couldn’t figure out why I liked it. Seriously. The LS600h L is everything I don’t like about a car: huge, heavy, amorphous, numb, floaty-drifty and over-complicated. And yet… there was something subconsciously seductive about the big rig. I asked my step-daughter Sasha why she’d taken a shine to the world’s most expensive hybrid. “Because I can sleep in the back,” she replied. Three minutes later she was sheltering in the arms of Morpheus. Narcoleptic Lexus meme confirmed. So I amped-up the critical analysis and noticed a slightly crashy edge to the suspension and some wind noise on the driver’s window. Ha! The Big L isn’t even a perfect, four-wheeled slug of Ambien CR. To reality check my impressions, I floored it. And backed off. And pressed a couple of buttons. And floored it. And backed off. And then it hit me: the LS600h L has the world’s finest automobile engine.
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Our illustrious Editor-in-Chief predicts the death of the manual transmission. The “stick-shift is toast,” Farago says, in his own special way. I disagree. If you want to go fast, get a paddle shift automated manual, a la Nissan GT-R. Time and again, the little levers have proven to be the fastest way to get around a track. Want easy breezy beautiful Orange County commuting? Get a traditional automatic. But if you want to maximize the man machine interface, nothing beats a manual. Three pedals can enliven the most leaden of automobiles. To wit: the Mercedes-Benz C300 Sport.
See, this guy in Lexington, KY died of cancer around 1962, and he left a Maserati to his only remaining relative, an uncle in his ’80’s living in Louisville. Uncle hadn’t driven a stick shift in 30 years but had just bought a new Cadillac, so he goes back to the dealer and says, “Get rid of this thing for me, willya?” The Cadillac salesmen looks at the Maserati, they look at each other, and one of them says, “Hey, I bet Dr. Dean would be interested.” And that’s how my father picked up a Maserati 3500GT for about two grand.
Seven days and I’ll be back in the United States, having bid my farewell to the Middle East (but knowing I will return). As the countdown commences, I eagerly anticipate driving something without a Toyota badge on it, and possibly buying something interesting with all the money I have saved eating government food (and some sand). These past many months I have pored over eBay, Autotrader, and mobile.de (German used car site, check it out, forbidden gems!). After looking at the multitudes of steel out there, I wondered something… what could I get that would have oodles of character, the shades of a future classic, and not cost too much. So I present, Seven Future Classics for the Depressed Economy:
60 Minutes nearly killed Audi in North America. After “Unintended Acceleration in the Audi 5000” aired in 1986, Audi sales dropped from 74k sales a year in 1986 to less than 12k by 1991. Sales remained constant until 1996, when Audi debuted a car that would finally tackle the BMW 3-series and the Mercedes C-Class head on. With its still unusual all-wheel drive system, classic German styling and interiors that set the industry standard, the A4 single-handedly revived sales in North America. An Audi fan since birth (when I was driven home in an Audi Fox GTI), I viewed them from afar; Roswell’s nearest Audi dealer lay eight hours away in Dallas. So I rejoiced when I signed the paperwork to purchase the first of the 5-valve V6 powered A4 quattros. Little did I know the next year would be filled with Germanic Sturm und Drang.
Car haters love it. Car lovers hate it. The Geo Metro has come to represent the uncomplicated wet dreams of piss poor eco-weenies, and a bare bones deathtrap on wheels for the SUV faithful. It’s surprising that this car has elicited such strong reactions over the years given that it never rang up the sales charts in the first place. However, thanks to cheap gas and the return of the “tax gas out of the ass” brigade, I decided to drive one for a full week. And not just any one. A rare, non-optioned, rust free version that is as common in rural Georgia as an unsubsidized peanut farmer. To be perfectly honest folks, the Geo Metro wasn’t that good and it wasn’t that bad. It was… well…
I stood there with a look on my face as if I had been bitch-slapped by a Charlie’s Angel. What was this glorious ode to a time when spandex was the cutting edge of fashion and posters of Xanadu were still on theatre walls? I couldn’t get over the swoopy Mustang II knock-off lines, the flared nostril quad headlights, and the paint; the glorious, sparkling gold paint that arced through the black body, complete with matching gold rims. I had stumbled upon something most people have forgotten, a 1977 Buick Nighthawk, a special edition Skyhawk, parked beside Route 66, begging for someone to take her home.
Who really debuted the first ever mini-van? The title remains hotly contested, between Renault’s Espace, and ChryCo’s Caravan/Voyager twins (not to mention the VW Microbus). But to North Americans and Europeans, that’s a moot point; both were first in their respective markets. The 1984 off-spring of Lee Iacocca came from Chrysler’s S-Platform, a stretched version of the K-Car chassis. (Yes, the very chassis that saved the Pentastar brand with its first-ever federal bailout.) By rejecting the normal rear wheel-drive layout of the time, the Voyager came off as a modern marvel. It boasted a transverse-front wheel-drive layout, flexible seating, good fuel economy, a smooth ride and car-like handling– something that took the other two Detroiters several years to figure out.
Next time you’re driving, look around. Provided you’re one of TTAC’s North American readers, chances are you’ll see at least one third-gen Accord humming along happily– despite its tatty cosmetic condition. The late ’80’s Accords showcased perhaps the finest demonstration of Japanese manufacturing capability; Honda crafted a sedan rivaling the legendary Toyota Hilux’s affinity for destruction-resistance.
Although I am a long-time critic of long-term tests of hideously over-equipped press cars, raising as they do the questions about Motor Trend’s objectivity, I can see the value of knowing how well a vehicle performs over the long-haul. So, as TTAC’s refocusing its efforts on those four-wheeled thingamabobs known as “cars,” I thought I’d weigh-in with a little encapsulated commentary on the family Honda Odyssey. Before I do so, I want to take this opportunity to tell the world that I have hatred in my heart for Honda’s Majesterial Rhode Island dealer. Suffice it to say, I have sworn off the entire brand because of the treatment received. Ahem. Michelin PAX tires. They blow.
She beckoned me. She betrayed me. Like a transvestite with a svelte smooth body, exposed by ungodly rough stubble underneath her lip. The 1990 Mercury Sable had a perfect silhouette that was maligned by two hundred parking lot dings and scratches on her lower front bumper. An older lady had given her some brutal blows to that lower psyche of hers over the years and now it was my turn at the wheel… so to speak. Little did I know that this first encounter would be just the beginning of The Crying Game. This particular example of a Mercury Sable was as unique as it was dichotomous. 47,000 original miles in 18 years. But a base model with a fecal brown exterior. The equally repugnant plaid brown interior did the vehicle no favors. But Hell. For $600 I’d just be willing to cover her up in a paper bag and drive her around town for a while.
You already have Schadenfreude, Rucksack, Kindergarten, Fahrvergnügen. May I offer another useful German compound word? Verschlimmbesserung. Meaning: making something worse (in the process of trying to improve it). Car companies are good at Verschlimmbesserung, as proven by the Mitsubishi Colt.
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