What a race. Ninety cars started the event. I have no idea how many cars finished the race, but it was a lot fewer than that. Due to inexperience and a poor game plan, we were in 47th position on Saturday when sadly and quite horribly, another driver — Cort Summerfield — died of a heart attack behind the wheel. The CHP determined there was no mechanical failure and that Cort was dead before he hit the wall. I know I speak for all the teams when I report that what followed was a very long, emotional and mostly sleepless night. We all wanted to race, but it was hard to see the point during the wee hours of Saturday night. After a touching memorial given by LeMons organizer Jay Lamm, we fired up our engines at 9:30 am Sunday morning after Cort's teammates assured us that's what he would have wanted. I was first up, 47 places down on brand new, cold tires. Gulp. After some not-too-shabby driving (if I do say so myself), I moved us from 47th to 35th. Then I lost the power steering belt and had to pit. The crew fixed the belt and Jack Baruth hopped in. For the next two hours and 42 minutes no one passed the V8olvo. And Jack passed everybody. He even managed to pop off the fourth fastest lap time of the day, bringing us to a respectable 20th place. My teammates John (Evil Genius of Evil Genius Racing), Wayne and Jesse managed to pick up the baton and hammer down just as hard. We finished in 15th place, climbing 29 positions on the day. You can expect both a full report from me, as well as Team Black Metal V8olvo finishing a bit higher in December at Thunderhill. Oh yes, we're doing it again.

Justin's got a job. A real job. Of course, TTAC's Managing Editor and myself excepted, everyone who writes for this website's got a real job. But props to Justin for landing a government gig. The position will pay-off his student loans, put a roof over his head, keep him off the streets and give him an opportunity to be glad-handed by President Bush. Although I fully expect this work to lead to a world-class whistle-blower moment (and, thus, a six-figure movie deal), I'm glad my tax dollars will soon be supporting Justin in the lifestyle to which his girlfriend is accustomed. Justin's a tireless worker with a sardonic sense of humor (regular listeners and readers will know that already). He'll be relocating to LA, and continuing to contribute news, reviews and blog items to this website on a need-to-know basis. Of course, the podcasting will have to cease (which is ironic, considering his Question of the Day). I'll be auditioning contributors for a suitable replacement. But Justin will be missed.

Sometimes I am astounded by how much content we generate on this site. Astounded in the sense of blurred vision, caffeine jitters and Daaaaaaddddyyyyyyy! Come NOW! Not to mention (although you know I'm about to) an inability to produce coherent thoughts. OK, a more-pronounced-than-usual inability to tap these keys in some kind of entertaining, informative, auto-oriented fashion. In my defense, I write plenty o' blogs, the odd editorial [sic] and edit every single word before it enters our little corner of cyberspace– other than our commentators' efforts. Whose entries I read without exception. Well, I take exception to a few, but you get my drift. Which is what I'm doing now, I suppose. Anyway, yesterday, I ran out of podcast posting time. This week, the news bear has been chasing us (Frank, me and the boys) like we're smothered in honey (as if). Even as I type, Frank's catching-up on the remainder of yesterday's posts– a tactic we normally leave to Autoblog. And I have miles to go before I sleep. But I wouldn't have it any other way. Front line web work is not for wimps. I salute the troops and resume command (in a completely non-arrogant but still alpha dog kind of way). That is all.  

When The Robb Report decided they didn't want to work with me anymore (surprise!), the Managing Editor cited my unauthorized off-road excursion in a Cayenne as one of the prime reasons I was persona non grata. Of all the shit I'd got up to, this was my cardinal sin. Huh? What red-blooded American doesn't harbor a deep-seated urge to not do what a bunch of heavily-accented Germans tell him to do? And what automotive journalist who's been on a meticulously-timed press launch doesn't understand the compulsion to leave the "designated route" for, somewhere, anywhere else? And it's not like I broke the thing– although, at the time, I thought I had. I'd simply embedded fist-sized rocks into the Cayenne's tires in my [ultimately successful] attempt to rock the SUV free of knee-deep mud, that I'd mistaken for a hard surface. Still, I genuinely liked Robert Ross, and miss working with him. I appreciate real talent, and understand the stresses that serving two masters can put on a man. I broke my Porsche IWC watch that day, clearing the mud away from the tire with my bare hands. Somehow, I can't bring myself to fix it. Go figure. 

When I was growing up, my father constantly reminded us that his customers put food on our table– both literally and figuratively (he had a weakness for Mercedes). The man who was THE alpha in my life was no such thing in front of his customers. He was polite, attentive, deferential and charming. At the tender age of 48, I think I've mastered attentive. But I learned the general lesson well. I never forget that you, dear readers, don't have to spend your time or talents here. I work hard every day to earn your patronage. I never take it for granted, or assume I know better than you– about anything. I fully consider all your criticisms and do my level best to fix bugs as and when they're brought to my attention. I'm never too busy to answer your emails. OK, I am. But I do it anyway. Because without you, nothing. And whenever I'm at a bookstore, I introduce myself to buff book readers and discuss their literary and internet habits. I'm constantly asking car owners I meet on the street what they think of their "ownership experience." If Chrysler thinks that they're going to be a better company if 300 execs talk to one customer each per day, they deserve to go out of business. And will. It's as simple as that. 

Settle down people. Autoextremist Peter DeLorenzo isn't creating original content for TTAC. The no-holds-barred Motown pundit has agreed to double post (DP?) on his recently redesigned website and the soon-to-be-redesigned TTAC. DeLorenzo's latest rant will go live on AE and TTAC every Wednesday morning. As TTAC's Best and Brightest surely realize, this arrangement provides our readers with a unique opportunity to bat around DeLorenzo's combative ideas in a forum-like thingie. To get the ball rolling, I submit the following podcast. I apologize for the abrupt intro (guess the subject). My high-tech digital recorder suffered a loose connection; Frank had to lop off the first minute or so. And the levels are over the place. Still, it's worth it. Welcome to Sweet Pete! 

Sorry about that. But I spent a good part of today listening to two of my young daughters singing songs carefully selected to rattle around my brain like a marble in a glass jar. It left me with a strange desire to infect others with any piece of music with more hooks than a bridge full of anglers. It's a world of laughter, a world of… Oops! And that TV ad really bothers me– not just because a Vegas-class hypnotist would have trouble extracting the tune from my subconscious. Or the fact that there's no such thing as a free anything. But what really annoys me: the ad's anti-hero bemoans the fact that his failure to check his credit report means that instead of "a cool convertible or an S-U-V," he ends up "driving off the lot in a used sub-compact." I'm thinking this ad is WAY out of whack with the times, as plenty of SUV drivers would dearly love to ditch their gas-guzzlers for a compact car. Unfortunately, depreciation means it's harder to get out of an SUV loan than stop hearing that damn song. 

It's kinda hard for me to get my head 'round the fact that anybody reads TTAC. I know that sounds strange. But you've got to remember I started this website with exactly no readers. And for the first couple of years, there wasn't a comments section. These days, I still read every comment. Yup, all of them. So I kinda sorta know TTAC's Best and Brightest are out there, somewhere. But it still freaks me out when the people we write about, like Business Week's David Kiley, comment on our coverage on the site. Our server stats tell me automakers and their camp (and not in the original Batman TV series sense of the word) followers are reading us. But it's different to get actual online under-the-post feedback from the horse's… mouth (sorry David; I couldn't resist). Which reminds me. Will someone, anyone from GM please respond to our [collective] work? The Truth really does set you free. Ask someone who owns one. 

I received a dozen emails today inviting me to check out Jalopnik's new sponsor. Sure enough, the words "Presented by Acura TSX" are now prominently displayed next to the site's name. While searching for the footnote "no definite article need apply," I noticed that Jalopnik is festooned with ads for the Acura TSX. So I called Gawker's main man, Ray Wert. I asked if the new deal is a New Deal for the site's editorial independence. Ray assured me the Acura gravy train would have "no effect whatsoever" on his ability to run "positive or negative coverage" of the manufacturer in general, or the model in specific. Ray pointed-out that "presented by" is not the same as "sponsored by." And Jalopnik launched with Audi's sponsorship (the TT reflected in the logo lollypop sucker's sunglasses). He said Audi never yanked Spinelli's chain. Only they did. And, eventually, after a negative review, bailed. Ray's got integrity all day. But it's not enough to BE independent. You have to avoid the APPEARANCE of being Acura's bitch. Those of you who know Ray will know that the aforementioned comment will assure the man's fierce examination of everything we do to sniff out the slightest whiff of hypocrisy. We welcome the scrutiny.  

TTAC is a content machine. Our [barely paid] team of writers is as prolific as it is talented. Our [unpaid] commentators are the autoblogosphere's Best and Brightest, and they're not shy about coming forward. And whatever you think about my literary skills, my OCD makes me one keyboard tapping fool. Of one thing I am especially proud: although TTAC was late to the blogging game and don't have a tenth of the resources of the big sites, we kick ass. We blog the big ones, and blog them according to our branding remit. It occasionally annoys me that my competition doesn't. Just the other day, Justin took a shot at Autoblog for being a "press release funnel." I thought it was a bit OTT. And then I read AB's blog about Subaru's new ad campaign, which (not-so-coincidentally) we covered here. AB republished the entire Subaru press release. No biggie, I thought. Fills the space. And then I rethinked. Why would AB hand deliver its audience to Subaru like that, without any filtration? Its antithetical to my idea of what blogging is all about: added perspective. Exercising editorial judgment. Less poetically, or perhaps more, it's about NOT kissing ass. I remain committed to this vision. So, how are we doing?

O.K., after we recorded this daily podcast, Jonny Lieberman and I figured-out who's who in terms of brand positioning in the U.S. market these days– if only to make Matt Hardigree jealous. (Pay no attention to my branding statement in the actual 'cast.) We reckon… Lexus is the new Mercedes. BMW is the new Audi. Audi is the new BMW. Mazda is the new Honda. Hyundai is the new Ford. VW is the old Hyundai. Kia is the new Mercury. Toyota is the new GM. Chrysler is the new Studebaker. As for the rest, I need one. Feel free to complete the picture, argue the points or just listen to us schmooze.

Did you know that Martha Stewart has a horse farm? Well, duh. A wealthy WASP without a Connecticut horse farm is like a Detroit executive without a Gulfstream. To her credit, Suzy Homemaker on Steroids takes that old "I had a farm in the Constitution State" thing to the next level. According to Vanity Fair, the animals inhabiting Stewart's antebellum mansion equivalent are all black. Goats, sheep, dogs, cats, horses– all black, all the time. Get this: because black horses' coats can turn auburn in the summer sun, Princess Tippy Toes II has instructed her horse people (as opposed to horsey people) to keep the equines in their stables until dark. Now that's something with which this OCD automotive website editor can identify. So when I saw Martha Stewart vintage chardonnay at the package store, I just had to quaff. It was/is immaculate. And bland. Boring. As fundamentally characterless as a Toyota, Lexus and, yes, Scion product. Which got me thinking. If Detroit has anything left to add to America's automotive scene, it's soul. The Chrysler 300C had soul. The Ford GT had soul. Other than that, what? Mustang? Nitro? Malibu? And if American soul isn't a gas-guzzling V8, as it can no longer be, what it it? While you're contemplating that conundrum, Justin and I discuss the day's car news. 

TTAC is an industry watchdog. We balance the cheerleading and spinmongery performed by the majority of the automotive media. As publisher, I don't feel an obligation to temper "bad" news with "good." That said, since we began this cybernetic journey, readers have upbraided us for failing to run the occasional positive story (as in any). While I don't consider fulfilling this request part of our core remit, a particularly testy email from Ford flackmeister Alan Hall got me thinking. Perhaps it is time to feature the odd ray of sunshine– other than positive car reviews (which come when they come). So when I received a press release about, of all things, Ford seats, I decided to dig a little deeper. Sure enough, FoMoCo has ditched the complexity chronicled by Bob Elton in Ford Death Watch 23, moving from 28 seat assemblies to two, from "here ya go" subcontracting to a partnership. So I called Jerry Brown, Ford's Chief Engineer for Seats and Restraints, to explore the possibility of a sea change behind the scenes. Better seats and reduced engineering complexity won't save Ford, but let's call it Reasons to Be Cheerful Part 1. 

A Brown University business professor once told me that one of America's greatest strengths is its ability to assimilate anything. While Bill O'Reilly rants on and on about our capitalistic society's moral degradation– like one of those nose hair-infested codgers who starts every sentence with "Back in MY day"– our profit-driven culture is actually extremely healthy. It takes the worst possible elements, sanitizes them and sells them into the mainstream. White suburban teens listen to gangsta rap while studying for their SATs. The gangstas end-up on Cribs, showing the world what's in their closet-sized Sub-Zero. SUVs are following a similar pattern. These planet-killas are gradually being domesticated into CUVs. The new Honda Pilot's obvious visual reference to its "no gallon of gas left unguzzled" SUV ancestors is just window dressing. I'm sure it's suitably frugal and considerably cleaner than Bill O'Reilly's phone calls. Of course, that opens a hole in the market for something "real;" a car that appeals to the street cred set. SUVs are done. Muscle cars are Avenged. What's next? Combat-styled EVs? Whatever it is, TTAC will be here to share the love. Whatever love is.

Cammy Corrigan had me all a dither yesterday. The TTAC commentator sent an email asserting that “I like TTAC, I really do, but I think it’s starting to lose its way.” God I hope not. Sure, we may have lost a bit of edge here and there. Maintaining our current output AND editorial quality is a daily make that hourly challenge. But it’s kind of hard to “lose your way” when the name of your website is The Truth About Cars. I never have to wonder, hmmm, what should we cover today? And whenever we write about something– from a story about the auto industry to a used car review– there’s never any doubt how to play it. We stick our tongue in our cheek, speak from the heart, call it like we see it and let the chips fall where they may. The Truth About Cars is who we are AND what we do. In addition, I promise you this: we will never take ourselves too seriously or take your concerns lightly. If you’ve got a beef with us, follow Katie’s lead and let us know. Your vigilance and passion makes us stronger, and there is always room for improvement.