So I get an email from my Mercedes dealer, one of those “throw a bunch of marketing stuff together and call it a newsletter” deals. Fair enough. Times are tough, even for the upmarket marque. And like many a pistonhead, I like to treat my vee hickle to something nice every now and then. Hmmm. Rubber floor mats. Mercedes-branded, tailored to my GL. As this will be the Guzzler’s first New England winter, yes, please! I know they’ll cost a fortune. But I don’t want to buy them from you-know-who and support Car and Driver more than I have to (which is not at all). And I’m too busy ethical to sleaze some for a review (which I would have to write). So I make the 25-minute trip to Inskip. The parts department’s Mercedes-branded product area is a mess. The shelves are mostly empty and thoroughly uninteresting. There’s a whole case of M-B caps—obscured by their plastic wrappers. The parts guy is on the phone. No eye contact. And I wait. And I wait. And I wonder why a car dealer can treat people like shit and neglect a potential profit center and then blame the economy for lousy business.
Category: Whiskey Tango Foxtrot
GM’s “May The Best Car Win” campaign is beginning to take shape, and it’s turning out to be every bit as gimmicky as you might guess. In a conference call with the motoring press, GM’s Bob Lutz challenged all comers to beat him around the Mazda Raceway at Laguna Seca. Lutz will be driving a Cadillac CTS-V, and he promises to beat any production four-door sedan as a way of proving that Cadillac does build world-beating cars. Jalopnik‘s Wes Siler has taken up the challenge, and will be facing Lutz in a Mercedes C63 AMG. So we’re curious: what unmodified sports sedan would you mount up in to send Lutz back to the RenCen with his tail between his legs? Myself? I believe water skis are the traditional conveyance for shark-jumping competitions. Meanwhile, TTAC would like to take this opportunity to pit our own Jack Baruth in this competition for the ages. Do we have a deal, GM?
What’s happened to MINI’s advertising? The car company that defined clever TV commercials, highly effective viral marketing and rockin’ real-world signage has dropped their cute ’n‘ quirky post-modern arched eyebrow cock-a-snook-at-SUVs play up the handling and performance in a “less is more” kinda way branding message—most recently exemplified by their MINI Cabrio campaign. Now MINI’s going for simple shock tactics. Note to BMW: a brand is a terrible thing to waste. Note to MINI girls: fuck you, too. [Thanks to Seth L for the link.]
I recently clocked a billboard offering passersby a Mercedes E-Class for $599 a month. I called the Mercedes dealer in question. Sorry, can’t find the paper, I have to call you back. I’ll wait. Oh, here it is! Here what is? A rear-wheel-drive E-Class luxury car. Which one? A rear-wheel drive E-Class luxury car. Yes, which model? E350. Options? A choice of metallic paint (as long as it’s white or black) and heated front seats. How much down? $5,509. How many months? It’s a 39-month lease, 10k miles per year. $599 a month all in? Plus tax. How much tax? $42 a month. Do you have one in stock? I’m sure we do but we can get one. Uh-huh. It’s not a the worst deal I’ve ever seen but . . . I wonder how much it would cost me to lease that Maybach that’s been in their showroom since 1909. Meanwhile, where the hell is Darwin? By now, anyone stupid enough to fall for a low low monthly payment come-on should be in debtor’s prison. Which would force the dealers perpetuating the sales technique into receivership, where the bank could re-fi their biz. I mean, $1 mil would only be $1666 a month over 50 years. Plus interest, of course. And handling fees.
GM’s new ad campaign, featuring Chairman Ed Whitacre, centers around the catchphrase “may the best car win.” According to the New York Times, the lure to new buyers will be a 60-day refund on any new GM product. In short, the perfect way to remind shoppers that buyer’s remorse comes standard on most GM vehicles. But that’s not even the craziest part of GM’s latest bid for consideration. To find out more, let’s just surf over to maythebestcarwin.com . . .
A little elevator music and voiceover by a heavily sedated airport announcer tell you everything you need to know about Toyota’s bid to bring excitement to its staid brand. Er, as long as you don’t fall asleep first.
Holy frijoles! I can say that, right? Frijoles aren’t a religion, are they? I mean, they could be; isn’t there a religion based on a talking salamander? Anyway, I guess that expression could be construed as racist, in a Frito Bandito kinda way. Whatever happened to the cartoon character who inspired Gerald Rivers’ trademark ‘stache? Political correctness, I suppose. Or it could be that Fritos suck. After being outgassed by a banana in my lunch bag, the corn snack tasted like the inside of a garbage can lid, only crunchy. So, where was I? Oh yes, trying to think of a clever way to segue from racist blasphemy to the fact that McLaren may think that less is more when it comes to supercars—or did with the F1—but they clearly believe that more is more when it comes to press releases. Hang on; mission accomplished. Well, minus the “clever” part. Make the jump for 10k+ words on the McLaren MP4-12C (a.k.a. 12C).
Fritz has been asked, but Fritz has yet to answer. The smart money says LaNeve is next to ride the Ray Young Express right out of the RenCen.
Allah. I live in a state where turning left in the face of oncoming traffic is such a routine occurrence that drivers on the opposite side of the intersection actually wait to be cut off. Seriously, if someone is stupid or timid or conscientious enough to obey the rules of the road, the driver who didn’t get cut off acts like deer caught in headlights. WHAT DO I DO NOW? You want me to go FIRST? Me, I don’t mind getting cut off when I’m driving. That would be like worrying about the denomination of the bill an attractive woman uses to snort a line of cocaine off your/one’s penis. What’s the point? Besides, the left-turning cutoff gives you a chance to lean on your horn, which is always good fun. But I get furious when someone cuts me off and gives me “the wave.” Who gave YOU permission to cut ME off? Not ME. And they NEVER make eye contact. The “thanks for letting me cuckold you automotively” wave has to be the most arrogant yet po-faced gesture known to man/woman. If I ever shout “ramming speed” down to my right foot, refer the arresting officer to this blog. Or, on second thought, don’t.
Now there’s a question… and here’s part one of DocumentaryHD’s video attempt at answering it.
Jesus Christ. Isn’t it enough that car dealers rape you on finance charges and extended warranties and paint sealant and God knows what? Oh NO—they have to put an ugly ass sticker or cheap chrome applique badge or hideous license plate frame on the back of your car that ADVERTISES THE FACT THAT YOU’VE BEEN SCREWED BY A DEALER. [Note: I’m not saying that Mr. Barrett was anything but open, honest and above board. May the Bricklin owner rest in peace.] If you want to advertise on TTAC, you have to pay for it. ’Cause that’s how advertising works. But if a car dealer wants to plaster his or her name on the butt of YOUR car YOU have to pay for it. And even if you accept this ass-backwards idea, why for FS can’t these guys at least TRY to match the manufacturer’s typeface and style? I’d recommend CarMax to all my friends who chew gum. But I had them pull that sticker off my GL before I ever rolled out of the customer handover area. Not on MY gas-sucking SUV you don’t.
Give that man an Oscar. Or a dark-colored Burberry polo shirt.
Check it out at 1:00 in.
Thanks to TTAC contributor Stu Sidoti for the photographs.
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