I found myself skimming the discussion groups at one of the major online automotive review and information sites. On the forum dedicated to a smallish high-end import SUV I found the following:

First time poster, long time car enthusiast. My wife and I just leased a model name with option packages listed. Just drove it home yesterday. The reason why we purchased the model name was for several reasons:

1. Good compromise between a small SUV and Sports Car
2. My wife (5’7”) and I (6’) are slim and felt very comfortable
3. It looked like a car we could be seen in and loved the interior

a golden tool

Fish in a barrel

So much juicy meat in this for real enthusiasts I will leave it to you to pick apart as you wish. The handle of the poster, model name, and URL have been removed to protect this misguided soul.

The Promise

Our GGGP promise to you: No sentiment of this sort will ever be produced by GGGP staff. 

Now: Go! Go! Gas Pedal!

Three times larger than a traditional moonroof, the available Vista Roof allows you to have a good view no matter what seat you’re in. Learn more at fordvehicles.com.

Not sure why this part is in such small type—or if Ford actually surveyed the sizes of all vehicle moonroofs and calculated an average, qualifying this statement—but the ad’s focus was, no doubt, the Vista Roof. However, the image on the ad was a low angle front three-quarter shot showing off the car’s shiny Gillette triple-like grill and premium chrome wheels. The only visual indication of the car’s moonroof was the little plastic airfoil that pops up just behind the windscreen when the roof is open, which could be seen peeking out from behind the radio antenna.

I couldn’t understand, if the ad’s purpose was to spotlight the moonroof, why wasn’t it prominently displayed in the photo? Or even vaguely displayed? I went to fordvehicles.com to see if there were any photos that showed the Vista Roof, and I found two. The first photo wasn’t really print ad-worthy; it was a direct over-head shot with accompanying text that explained the feature. Essentially, it was an image of a big black square. The other photo was print ad-worthy, though, showing the vehicle cruising along a coastal highway with the roof open. But the accompanying text explained the standard tire pressure monitoring system. It became clear that Ford was playing a trick on me.

So I e-mailed Ford’s Sales and Advertising Department the following note:

I came across an ad on the back cover of a magazine for the Vista Roof on the new Edge, yet the picture doesn’t show the roof at all; the focus of the image seems to be the grill. I’m interested in learning more about this peculiar marketing strategy. Or did someone in the advertising department fall asleep at the wheel? Ha, ha. Anyway, I’m eagerly anticipating your response.

I am interested in finding out what the hell is going on, and will post the response from Ford.

1993 Saab 900s

Hej Hej Gamling

At the end of March I knew that it was time to say goodbye to my 1991 Saab 900S. I had spent way more than the Saab’s retail value in the weeks preceding the acknowledgement of the end. This led to confusion and pain. Every car lover must submit to the entropy of life and realize that the existence of their beloved ride relies on maintenance and repair. These expenses are often embraced and we allow ourselves to project a kind of affection upon our vehicles. We have pseudo-emotional relationships with the rolling hunks of rubber and steel and repairs seem a kind of care and feeding. But given the right rate of repair and increasingly deeper forays into reserve funds we sour an in turn feel as though we have been scorned by not just our beater/classic but by fate—Why all this money? Why right now? I began to contrast my plans for the 900 (every car lover has plans for their ride—no matter how humble) with the opportunity costs of supporting the ailing Swedish drama queen. I amortized schedules of repairs and compared them with hypothetical car payments. I found the numbers to be close. Plus, wasn’t the 900 pretty shabby to begin with? What is the sense of polishing a turd—even a turd that had served well for 20,000 tough miles in the last year and projected a vision of not just Scandinavian thriftiness, but adventure and design too. Had the Saab not earned its keep for a little while? Christ! It wasn’t even a turbo—just an S! The marginal paint. The cracked dash. Not all that characterful really. Was I the kind of car lover that could roll in a beater forever, never admitting that it was not a classic but still feeling pretty special? Like a deranged Fiero owner? Like anyone with a trailer queen? I am not that car owner. I have no affinity for a particular car. I’m not cosmically offended if you don’t keep up the shine on you Lambo. I don’t believe that the relationship between man and a car is a truly emotional one—there is no essence to it and no morality. The only relationship is one that we create of our own accord w/ourselves. What we allow the car to say about ourselves and what pleasure we derive from it. This is the existential crux of car ownership.

That old Swede can’t hold me back.

So, the decision was made. And after the fact it seemed like an even worse idea than it had before I’d sorted out the lingering emotional ghosts and busted them off into Sartre-land. How could I spend all the fix-up money and then dump it? Should I not have just planned and saved? Really stupid. Right? Well it took a while, but then I thought of F.A. Hayek. Hayek believed that the real heart of the economy (and thus the massive web of decisions made everyday and everywhere) was information and knowledge. Prices are signals. And these signals allow diverse individuals to coordinate their plans. And the simple truth is: before getting the signal that the old 900 was getting quite long in the tooth by way of repair bills, I simply couldn’t know that it was time. The prices were the signal. But they didn’t exist a priori. They needed to happen in order for the realization to happen. In The Use of Knowledge in Society Hayek was speaking about groups of individuals but surely we all have to coordinate our lives in this piecemeal way: the knowledge of the circumstances of which we must make use never exists in concentrated or integrated form but solely as the dispersed bits of incomplete and frequently contradictory knowledge which all the separate individuals possess. A little heavy for GGGP but it’s a deep insight. I came to understand that it is OK to make mistakes. We do not always have the facilities to make perfect decisions on the first attempt. Sometimes the perfect car is not the one we have right now. Maybe the next car will reveal itself as such. But will we know that while the car is with us? Ask Christopher about the Alfa. 

Here at GGGP there is an opinion that technology has replaced good old, physics-based engineering, which we feel is a step in the wrong direction. Cars, like Americans, have become grossly overweight and, at least in the automotive industry, the silicon-based transistor has had to step in to compensate, making it all unnecessarily complex. Instead of using composite materials like carbon fiber reinforced plastic to lighten a car and lower its center of gravity to improve breaking, handling, and acceleration, it is instead applied to the dashboard trim of BMW M5s that now weigh two tons (600 pounds over the first generation model) and require ten-cylinder engines and a Drivelogic sequential gearbox with 11 settings to get it from 0-60 in 4.5 seconds (a mere two seconds quicker than the original M5 and only two tenths of a second quicker than the Alpina variant of that era) and, more importantly, to overcome Newton’s three laws of motion to keep it stuck on the road round corners.  

But the over-saturation of technology in cars goes beyond keeping fat things light on their feet, which you can at least argue has a purpose-consumers like to go fast and they like gigantic automobiles to transport their wide loads, and technology is the only way to really offer both safely. There’s built-in navigation, back-up cameras (because roof pillars are now too fat to see around with side-view mirrors), headrest-mounted DVD players, back-up chimes (that people never seem to take advice from), electronic steering, electronic brakes, and hybrid drives that are less efficient and no cleaner than diesels. My Mini has an air pressure tire sensor that randomly lights up. When I bought the car the dealer pointed it out and said, “This light will turn on arbitrarily. Ignore it as this feature doesn’t actually work. Your tires are fine.” Then he showed me the trick to reset it-a trick that is even published in the owner’s manual. If the technology doesn’t work, then why is it there? If it’s there because the law requires it to exist, but not work reliably, why don’t they just put a light bulb on the center console that is wired directly to the battery to make production easier…and reduce weight?  

So much to break and so expensive to repair. And so much of it isn’t really needed for driving. It’s not that I want the industry to take a step backwards, or that I think technology hasn’t improved many aspects of the automobile. Traction control and variable valve timing are very good things. And if I knew exactly what my ECU was up to all of the time I might think that the car is better for it. But I didn’t think it when it died after less than 5,000 miles on the odometer, causing every system in my Mini to fail. But the focus on applying technology to automobiles continues, in my opinion, to be applied in many of the wrong places. Cars are like mobile phones; manufacturers can do very little to improve your signal, so they distract you with functions like cameras and video players, which have nothing to do with making the actual telephone function better.  

Where did it all start, though? The 90’s wasn’t just a decade of sloppy fashion and socially conscious rock music. It was the decade when airbags became standard across the industry, traction control and anti-lock brakes started showing up on reasonably priced cars, seatbelts were automated (briefly), rear wheels turned with the front ones to narrow your turning radius, and ECUs began running the show. However, after exhaustive research (no foolin’), I found the 90’s wasn’t where it all began, but where it metastasized. In fact, I think it began in the mid 1970’s with a company called b+b, founded by Rainer Buchmann, which specialized in customizing Porsches. He also worked with Eberhard Schulz in developing the first incarnation of the epic Isdera Imperator, the b+b CW311.  

Buchmann Porsches were tricked out 911s, 930 Turbos, and 928s, many of which converted to t-tops. Yes! A notch-back 928 with a t-top. Sounds like science fiction? Well, it wasn’t. These cars included performance modifications, body kits, ultra-plush interiors (both metallic and pearlescent leather were available), gold-leafed instrumentation, heavy use of rainbow-colored stripes in both paint and fabrics, and the coolest wheels ever mounted to any automobile. They were also well-appointed with technology falling into two categories: gadgets to create the most comfortable and convenient environment available on the road and gadgets to create the most unsafe environment on the road. Comfort/convenience features included a CB radio, 16-way power seats, and…well, that’s about it. Technology features falling into the latter—more akin to today’s cars—included a dash-mounted television, integrated telephone (mounted on the t-bar in the 928, which required the removal of the rear view mirror), concealed champagne cooler, and a t-bar mounted Clarion stereo component system, requiring the driver to blindly reach over his head to operate. Apparently, the stereo was so powerful that if you turned the volume up all the way the headlights would flicker off, so when you got drunk and insisted on driving with the t-tops off and your favorite Ricthie Blackmore cassette cranked up in the middle of the night, karma didn’t have to work so hard at putting you in your place.  

Setting the stage for the future, Buchmann Porsches also came with “Dinfos”, or Digital Information System, the first electronic dashboard, which displayed through LEDs the car’s speed and RPMs, among other data. Designed by physicist Peter Roggendorf, Dinfos included microcomputer that calculated and stored average speed, fuel consumption, and mileage. It was the first trip computer and Buchmann, seeing the potential in the system, was adamant about it being available to the broader public. In fact, he even began installing them in Volkswagen Golfs, which demonstrates quite a bit of foresight. This guy was like DeLorean but without the addiction and market miscalculation. Looking back on b+b’s contribution to the automotive industry, it’s clear to me that this was the genesis for the heavy integration of unnecessary technology into automobiles. Although it did take some time to trickle down into mass production cars. If there are earlier examples, I couldn’t find them…nor do I want to hear about them if someone else knows what they are. But you can’t blame Buchmann; his intentions were good. Blame the flannel wearing, homeless people hugging, Frasier watching 90’s, when all of those glorious ideas were distorted and incorrectly applied to every junker on the road. Why? Because consumerism was skyrocketing and the public needed to be quickly distracted from the fact that the automobile hadn’t really changed in a hundred years.  

be prepared.

THE BASICS:

The Transit is an oddball vehicle. Ford designed it to serve as an automotive mule for tradesman and couriers - also, Ford needed to compete with Renault’s Kangoo. The design of the truck with regards to the first objective, muledom, is predictable: boxiness and little decoration. Regarding its competition: the Transit has some of the goofiness of the Kangoo face and appears, at least on first impression, to have a similar level of european tidiness to the design. Within its intended market the Transit seems to have a great opportunity. It offers better cargo capacity than the ersatz xB, HHR, and Squid Overlords forbid, PT Cruiser vanlets that have been pushed into urban and suburban usage across the country. At the same time it offers easier and more configurable customization within the cargo area than those vehicles which were never designed for that purpose. Essentially, the Ford Transit will be a smaller version of the successful Sprinter. Cheaper, too.   

THE IMPORTANTS:

This vehicle is way more than a pedestrian snorefest. Simply: If you’re concerned about freedom and/or zombies and/or self-expression then the Transit is coming for you. From here in the GGGP fringes of car culture I can see the real, hidden market. Plenty of people in particular demographic blobs and sub-cultures are drawn to utilitarian cars of the Transit type for personal use. The current wave of these people—I am admittedly one at heart but not in ownership—drive the Scion xB or Honda Element or brick-like classic Volvo wagons, or even, at the fringe of this fringe, compact pickups with caps. I think that much of this is due to the demise of the wagon in the U.S., but it also represents a rejection of SUV hegemony.  What are the characteristics that this group looks for? 

FIRST:

A utilitarian vehicle with a large covered cargo area addresses an important fantasy. That fantasy involves the possibility that you may have to take refuge inside your vehicle. I suppose that for some this represents a worst-case scenario. But to this band of brothers and sisters, taking refuge in your car epitomizes the freedom that comes from automobiles. Surely, there is the car freedom of teenage adventures in your neighborhood or town as there is the freedom to escape cross-country and travel thousands of miles w/o regard to airline destinations or bus routes. Take that kind of freedom and inject a shot of ‘Into the Wild’ or ‘On the Road’, and now you can not only drive anywhere but stop and sleep just about anywhere too. Admittedly, there are numerous limitations to this fantasy. Police. The family from TCM. Lack of toilets. But it is a fantasy, and a Transit-type vehicle gives it life w/o saying, “I am retired and this is my camper.”

FIRST (b):

Zombies and crackheads. They are related to the above. Within the travel-entirely-within-your-vehicle fantasy is the possibility of attack/crap weather. When the zombies or roving midwest meth-heads show up to plunder/eat it is far preferable to have steel between you and them than to have your fancy nylon tent. The weather part is equally obvious.

SECOND:

This class of vehicle projects a strong aura of frugality. Whereas an SUV will consume lots of gas and rubber these vehicles are relatively miserly in comparison. The running costs are low and the utility is high. There is no SUV pretense of trails to be trod. There is a kind of punk-rock anti-aesthetic to the design. If a Camry demonstrates a complete lack of driver concern about design then the Transit demonstrates that same lack of concern but critically offers utility in exchange. Therefore, the Transit sends the message: I am all purpose. I am what I am.

THIRD:

The Transit avails itself to customization. This factor puts it substantially above other similar vehicles. Sure, you can add some TRD geegaws to your xB but can you convert the cargo area into a photo studio or computer tech mini-shop? The interior possibilities are endless and are appealing to DIY hippies and offer no real downsides to the oldster crowd (xB lovers for sure).  Surfers and adventurers of all stripe are served by the possibilities. Keep your gear safe and make a space for it. But the best part is that huge slab of an exterior. Learn to airbrush or find one of the few that still do and paint that steel canvas!

THE END:

One of our principles at GGGP is that your car choice says something about you. The Transit unites purpose and design—driving a Transit projects your understanding of the beauty of purpose/design integration. At this test alone lots of vehicles fail; that a goofy panel van from europe accomplishes this is fantastic. Sell well little Transit. I can’t wait for the first techno-disco-hippie, mural-painted, one to drive cross country.  

Career Fair

I found all of this extremely appealing and, while the home study course itself no longer exists, certainly the van customization industry—as well as many well-preserved examples—still does. However, a quick search on ebay Motors returned only two custom vans out of 850, and only one of those had minor airbrushing on the spare tire cover. (I didn’t even bother searching for dune buggies, knowing that would have been an even greater disappointment.) Google offered images of a few more examples, but nearly all of those were for advertising purposes.

Heartbroken, my mind drifted back to a time—somewhere during the early 1980’s—where I had dreamed of a not-so-distant future where the skies were littered with flying cars covered in hand-painted murals of snowy white wolves howling at full, blue moons, or busty mermaids floating in deep space, holding crystal balls high above their heads, their fiery hair blowing in the void. Alas, that hope has become as much a fantasy as the images that inspired it. Not to mention the unfulfilled promise of the flying car. 

While you still see it on motorcycles, airbrushing in the world of car customization appears to be a dead art, and I have a few theories about that: For starters, wizards aren’t cool anymore. And Harry Potter did nothing to return these fictional characters to the hearts of the American public. Neither are silhouettes of cowboys against sunsets, for which I blame the public outcry against cigarette advertising over the last 20 years.

Secondly, the full sized van is nearly extinct; unless you need one for industrial purposes, you’re going to buy a minivan or SUV. And if you buy one of those you’re not going to customize it with the airbrushed image of an Amazon woman taming a black panther; you’ve got to know that, deep down, whatever visual improvements you try to make to either one of these cars, you’ll never look cool. Also, unlike the full sized vans of yesteryear, minivans and SUVs have windows all the way around, taking up the surface area that would otherwise be available for airbrushing, which is completely pointless since SUV and minivan drivers don’t seem to use their windows any more than their side mirrors or turn signals. 

Thirdly, most people just don’t have class anymore—a statement which I feel does not need to be justified. And I don’t see any of this changing. While there doesn’t seem to be any hope for the art of airbrushing in making a comeback, a few examples still do exist. You just have to be in the right place. Spend a Saturday or Sunday afternoon in Los Angeles’s Griffith Park and you’ll find a small handful of low riders with some impressive custom paint work; if anyone still has class it’s the hombres (which I think is the same as calling a black man a “brother”). Then there are Charlie’s Angels reruns. Also, while I’m not sure it’s on the road anymore, around D.C. I used to see frequently this pickup truck on the road covered in airbrushed portraits of the singer Selena, which just screams classy. (That owner was also an hombre, as I recall.) Actually, I guess I take back my original statement: if Hispanics are the fastest growing minority in America—and they seem to be the only ones still practicing the art of airbrushing—maybe it will make a comeback.