It's clear that GM's new powertrain warranty– 5 years, 100k miles– has set TTAC tongues wagging. To get on top of the story, I phoned Philip Reed, Consumer Advice Editor at Edmunds.com. Reed has written a book called Strategies for Smart Car Buyers, which covers the entire car buying process: selling, leasing, buying, used cars, certified cars, the whole schmeer. Reed knows what's what when it comes to warranties and, equally important, their value to both customer and manufacturer. According to Reed, GM's announcement could well be a great landing at the wrong airport.  

I've been podcasting with Mike Spinelli of Jalopnik on a daily basis for quite some time. I hesitate to say exactly how long because then I'd have to think about the precise meaning of "hobby trading" and I've always found that term more than a bit humiliating. Anyway, Mike has graciously allowed me to air these podcasts on TTAC. So I'm going to posting them for a week or so. If they prove popular, the kid stays in the picture. If not, well, Tamora is another TVR. Or something like that.  

Something, anything, is worth exactly what someone will pay for it, no more and no less. Human beings being what they are, that "willingness" has a strong emotional contingent. When it comes to cars and car collectors, all sorts of strange commercial transactions can occur. For example, the muscle car market is red hot; proper GTO's, 'Cudas and Shelby Cobras are regularly fetching triple digit prices. This despite the fact that the majority of these machines are foul-handling beasts whose power-to-weight ratio seems carefully designed to kill its driver dead. Still, you can understand aging baby boomers' desire to own the car or cars they couldn't afford back in the day. Does that mean a carefully preserved Honda Integra Type R will someday fetch serious money at auction? Or a Chrysler 300C SRT-8? I turned to RM Auctions' Terry Lobzun for the skinny on future classics.  

Our West Coast Bureau Chief is one persistent son of a bitch. Every day I get emails or phone calls from Jonny Lieberman asking me to pimp him a ride, preferably a Porsche Turbo or Audi RS4. Since we've cut a deal with The Aston Lawrence Group re: sourcing press cars for our troops, he's… still on my case. But I respect that. Cars are my drug too. If I wasn't so busy answering JL's emails and other equally vital administrative tasks, I'd be sending myself emails asking why I haven't found a ride for… me. Anyway, Jonny rang me up to discuss his MX-5 review, his forthcoming F150 King Ranch review and Frank's ad article. At least it kept him away from his computer for 10 minutes… 

My Space's success has not gone unnoticed. No, I'm not talking about pedophiles. I'm referring to the Lords and Lordettes of the "new media," who are busy trying to make your space their space so they can make advertisers' money into their money. It didn't take a great leap of imagination for entrepreneurial e-pistonheads to imagine a My Space for cars, where owners throw down pics and stats of their wheels to engage in the guilty pleasures of automotive exhibitionism. Boompa.com is one of the more interesting examples of this new genre, combining the usual "rate-a-ride" meters with some genuinely useful features with relatively clean (if cartoonish) design. I rang up co-founder Ethan Lance to find out if a lack of taste makes waste, or, eventually, a cyber fortune. 

You've got to feel sorry for the Brits. Once home to some of the world's best– er, most charismatic vehicles, the country has seen their automotive crown jewels sold off to Johnny Foreigner and/or fade into the mists of time. With the disappearence of the once-proud MG Rover Group, it's no wonder that British automotive analyst Michael Wynn-Williams doesn't like the idea of Ford selling off Jaguar and Land Rover. In a recent white paper "Jaguar’s part in rescuing Ford," Trend Tracker's trend tracker said "Whoa! Slow down there Billy Boy! Why sell the family silver when you may want to throw a dinner party or two when things settle down a bit." OK, I'm paraphrasing. But Wynn-Williams' main point is there for the taking. So, I called-up WW and took it like a man.  

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. 

We have a rule in my house: no sugar cereal until you eat your "good" cereal.  By the time the girls have inhaled a bowl of non-sweetened Cheerios, Weetabix or Rice Krispies, their appetite for kiddy crack is destroyed or diminished.  Of course, that doesn't stop the bun fight over any promotional toy that dares hide at the bottom of the box. I reckon a Ford marketing maven saw his kids ripping apart a box of Sky High Blood Sugar Flakes to get at a wind-up plastic spaceship and thought "Why can't adults display the same animal enthusiasm for a Ford Fusion?"  A promotion was born.  On Sunday, parents who buy their Fruit Loops, Apple Jacks, Frosted Flakes or Cocoa Krispies from Target will find a free Ford Fusion Hot Wheels model inside.  I rang up FoMoCo's point man Monte Doran to get the skinny on childhood obesity– I mean whether Ford will slap cash on the hood if the models don't move by September.  No seriously, I wanted to know if this was the beginning of a shift away from traditional marketing.  Hey, if you don't ask…

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. 

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. 

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. 

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 Strongbad-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.    

As a kid, I instantly "got" James Bond: look cool, kill the bad guys and the girl's yours.  I was a little vague about what you did with her afterwards, but the British secret agent still made perfect sense.  Dean Martin's riff on 007, Matt Helm, was a different story.  As far as my crew was concerned, the American booze hound super spy lech didn't even qualify as a junk Bond.  In fact, I got the same feeling watching Matt Helm movies as I did I seeing local Catholic boys dress up like girls for their "father."  And while Bond's Aston was the business, I didn't know until this morning which wheels Matt Helm graced with his cinematic presence.  Well, here it is: a George Barris modified 1966 Mercury station wagon.  Figures.  A station wagon is about as cool as The Carpenters, maybe, no, definitely, less.  My mom drove a station wagon.  (There's that icky thing again.)  Turns out the Volo museum snagged this formica and plexiglass shag palace for their collection.  Lucky them.  I rang up the museum and spoke to their Director about Dino's Sex Wagon and the museum's more, um, salubrious whips.  

Frank Williams came to TTAC's attention after he cc'ed us on an email to Car & Driver.  The long time C&D reader was all het up about Brock Yate's summary execution– I mean, dismissal.  Reading Williams' take-no-prisoners diatribe against the banal buff book, I immediately recognized Frank as a kindred spirit: a car guy with fire in his belly and an itchy keyboard.  Since his TTAC debut, Frank's gone on to become one of our most prolific and entertaining talents. Today's anti-nostalgic deconstruction of a 70's icon offers yet more proof that the net is giving voice to a whole new generation of automotive writing talent– even if it's not exactly a younger generation.  And speaking of voice, here's Frank's…

I’m not a big fan of segregation.  Obviously, US car culture splits into distinct niches: hot rodders, low-riders, urban gangstas, tuners, etc.  Equally obvious, these niches attract adherents from specific ethnic groups.  But just as communities throughout my home state meet down at the markets as they root around for fresh ingredients for their ethnic cuisine, there is an element of respect and inter-mingling between these petrol-powered fraternities.  Anyway, I don’t get the male – female automotive divide.  I seriously doubt that there’s a female automotive perspective– even when it comes to child safety and minivanning.  So when I saw a press release about a new female-oriented automotive website, I decided to do what it said on the tin: ask Patty.  Turns out “Patty” is a male invention and the company producing the website makes its money sensitizing dealers to “women’s needs.”  I quizzed Jody Devere, President of www.askpatty.com, about the statistical justification for the segregation.