"Um, no; I sure don't officer."
"Well, it appears that last week you rolled through two stop signs, exceeded the speedlimit by 10 miles an hour on at least five occasions, and drove recklessly around corners. Here are your preprinted tickets, have a nice day."

Don't know how far we are from this type of scenario, but I can't imagine it's more than say...two years?

With the inescapable fate of progeny looming in my future, The Wife has occasionally prodded me to trade in my current vehicle, a 2000 Honda Prelude SH with which I have a long-standing and admittedly perverse love affair, for something with four doors.

Car shopping is probably the only kind of shopping I enjoy, or even tolerate. For someone like me, car shopping is a journey years in the making. I generally don't prefer brand new vehicles, as their high prices and immediate depreciation make my bunghole pucker. However, when I know I'm going to need a new car in the coming three years, I'll peruse the current new models so that I know what will be on the used lots when I'm finally ready to buy. If you drive it while it's new, you'll have a baseline to compare it to when it's used. Plus, there's the no-strings-attached test driving.

Lately, I really like the 2008 Acura TL Type-S
. Of course, for that to drop into the price range I'm comfortable with could easily be three years. The '07's are still in the high twenties.

I thought briefly about the BMW M3, but quickly dropped that idea for two reasons. One, I don't think they come with 4 doors; and two, I may be a prick, but I'm not nearly the prick it takes to drive an M3. Of course, there are still a variety of 3-series sedans which can be had for the mid twenties with low mileage. That I could go for, but there's something about a BMW that makes my reliability gauge waiver. I'm just not sure they've got what Toyota or Honda do.

Speaking of Toyota, there are some very nice IS models out there. I remember when these first started coming out about four years ago. They fall perfectly into the sporty sedan genre. I was very close to buying one when I bought my prelude, but they were a little outside my range. NOw they can be had for the low twenties all the way up to the high twenties depending on model year.

The spoiler for all of this, though, is that none of these cars are all-around better than my current vehicle. The Prelude handles better than all of these sedans do. It gets better mpg than all of these sedans do. The only two areas where it fails are power (175hp vs the mid-200's these sedans make) and space. Lack of space is a fairly weak argument, since the Prelude has four seatbelts, so I could put a child seat in the rear.

Of course, it also doesn't help that the Prelude is paid for with only 63,000 miles on it. Which means two things:
1) It's a 'free' vehicle
2) No one will ever pay me what I think it's worth.

The autophile and the miser inside me are muddying the waters. The issue has become far too nebulous for me to make a clear choice. I suppose I should take that as a sign that it's not buying time yet. Sigh. I suppose I'll just keep window shopping until an ultimatum surfaces.

Since the inception of the automobile, people have long pondered the innate connection between a man and his car. Which is stupid, because it's retardedly obvious.

Evolutionarily speaking, men crave simple logic-based reciprocal relationships. When we were hunter-gatherers, the men hunted and understood the dangerous but practical circumstance of such an activity. A primeval man understood that he must eat and feed his family; hence, he must hunt large animals with fangs/claws/husks. Ever since, men have always sought out roles that best-suited their overly pragmatic mindset.

The logic-based reciprocal relationship was that if you didn't get too loud, stand windward, or generally make an ass of yourself; you'd be bringing home dinner. Act outside of the common sense of hunting, and you'd be eating salad for a couple of weeks.

When we moved to an agrarian society, men took up the role of learning how to raise crops. Which plants had the highest yields, or had double-harvests. Support the crop and the environment they grew in, and you'd have a high yield.

When we moved to manufacturing, men took the lead. Of course, at about the same time, women and children began to take manufacturing jobs too. But it's no surprise that men lead the way. To provide for your family, whether it be hunting wild game, working a peice of land, digging a coal mine, or driving a desk; men were for the most part first into the work place. Work for a company for thirty years, and you got benefits, a pension, and a salary with which to raise your children.

These days, as men and women find themselve sharing the role of sole breadwinner, we guys have had to find things that make us more valuable. Providing for the family is no longer solely a man's domain.

Cleaning a carburetor, on the other hand, is entirely a family man's business. Changing the oil? Dad. Brake pads? Dad. Anyone know the significance of blue exhaust or white exhaust? Dad does. Checking sparkplug gaps? Dad's job. Should i go with synthetic or conventional oil? I dunno, ask Dad. Hey, should I use 10-10-10 on my centipede or 5-5-10? You know, Dad told me...

Cars are machines. They work on the simple principle of "Good in, Good out; Bad in, Bad out". If a man takes care of the car, it will reward him with years and years of service. I've seen Pontiacs (yes, Pontiacs!) go 200,000 miles on basic preventive maintenace from the home garage. Granted, you invest a lot of time, but it beats buying a car every five years.

So get out there, read some shit, and try not to be such a prickish little pussy about getting your hands dirty and your mind full.

The old man and I have spent the past several months hemming, hawing, parsing, splitting hairs, and generally picking ourselves apart over what our new project car should be.

At first, we were thinking some classic muscle. You know, big displacement V8 with gobs of torque. As much fun as it would be, we just weren't that excited about it. It's hard to describe, but we both wanted something that was more of a driver's car.

Then we started reading about the '08 Nissan GT-R and it pretty much stopped us dead in our tracks. What a phenomenal car: twin turbo 480hp V6, all-wheel drive, 6-speed dual clutch transmission, 6-piston brakes, and a fully adjustable suspension; all mounted on a carbon fiber and aluminum midship platform. Absolutely breathtaking. As much as this car appealed to us; and I mean that in the powerful, primordial sense that only a true autophile understands; it presented a real problem for us. Why pay someone $70,000 to build you a car when:
1) It will only make you do things that are illegal and unsafe
2) It's so perfect that you're afraid of hurting it
3) You can build one yourself for less money, and still do all the same illegal and unsafe things.

Build one that's just as crazed and dangerous, for cheaper? Oh yes. You see, back in the early 60's, God blessed mankind with a tiny roadster that man named the MG. A few years later, in true human fashion, man corrupted God's vision of purity by chunking the underpowered four-cylinder engine God gave him with something directly from the bowels of hell: a good old American big block. Nothing screams "I want to die in a fiery wreck" like a 2,000lb car with a 300hp engine. Yee haw.

The more we think about it, the more we like this option. It's rear-wheel drive, which means it'll be fun to race. It's a conversion that's been done a million times; so there will be plenty of references, spare parts, and fully built cars to choose from. Most importantly, owning a classic car means not having to bother with lame shit like emissions, inspections, and seatbelts. Besides, seatbelts in a car like this would be a joke anyways.

On this day in 2003, the last old-style Beetle, the economy car produced by the German automaker Volkswagen, rolled off the assembly line in Puebla, Mexico. Why these German "Cars of the People" or "Vahgens uf da Volk" were being made in Mexico is anybodys' guess. One theory is that Adolf Eichmann opened his own Volkswagen factory in the Yucatan peninsula after he escaped from the Nuremberg trials of 1947-1964. Nobody noticed that an obviously German genocidal maniac had opened a car factory in Mexico because nobody cares about Mexico. It's a great place to go and blend in, whether you're a tourist or someone who has just participated in the slaughter of six million Jews.

But back to the car itself. There are so many things wrong with the Beetle I scarcely know where to begin. First off it's made by Germans, who I hate. Or Mexicans. Not crazy about them either. They may be great engineers but their language and accents are atrocious. A simple "have a nice day" in German sounds like you're being ordered to a gas chamber. Not a pretty language. Secondly, the vehicle looks like a bug. I for one do not want my car to look like an insect. Thirdly, I was in my first accident in a Volkwagen Beetle. We got hit by a Cadillac. A word of advice: If you are going to be hit by a Cadillac, don't be in a Volkswagen. Not surprisingly it looked like a squished bug and everyone in the car was badly injured. Safety was not the first priority of the engineers of the Volkswagen. It's the "car of the people" only if you really hate people and want them either maimed or dead. Which seems to describe the Germans.

A few years after surviving that accident, I, being the genius that I am, bought a Volkswagen Beetle. It ran like shit, had no power steering or air conditioning, always smelled like gasoline so I always wondered when I would explode and the worst part was the engine was in the trunk. Who thought that up? I was always throwing shit into the engine. Groceries, luggage, you name it. Which is probably why it ran like shit. And I avoided Cadillacs like the plague.

So I'm glad that the old style Beetle has been retired. Unfortunately, they've brought it back. And it's still as small, round and ugly as ever. And just as popular. With fucking hippies. It's always been a hippy car but now it's the car of the neo-hippies. I hold anyone in a Beetle with absolute contempt. The people who drive them are either hippy college kids who want you to believe they care about the environment, or it's 50-60 year old boomers who are reliving their college days. I don't know who's worse. Eh, I hate them both equally.

In conclusion, I hate the Volkswagen Beetle. And hippies. Also, I'd like everyone to leave a comment about your experiences with the Beetle. Or your experiences with anal bleeding. Hell, I don't care what you leave a comment about, just leave a comment. I'd like to break my previous Today in History record of 4 lousy comments. God, is anybody even reading this? I just want a little adoration. Is that so much to ask? Do you people have any idea how much thought and sweat and time I put into this website? Any idea? A good 20-25 minutes a week, you bastards. Type my fingers to the bone. Fucking ungrateful fucks. I hate you all.

Don't forget to comment! Thanks!!!

So the Old Man and I scoured some more classic cars today. Decided that what we want is a pre-'70's Nova or Camaro that runs and has a decent body.

Found a '69 Camaro today with new paint, side pipes, roll cage, and a 10-bolt rear; price? Insanely cheap. Only thing is, it needs a new carb. So if we want to drive it away, we need to either bring a trailer with us, or a new carb and install it before we leave.

Let me tell you something about classic cars that come with roll cages: they've been raced. A LOT. Yeah, it's never a car that's going to be on a Barrett-Jackson TV whore-fest, but it'll defintely be a car that moves faster than any car that's ever been on a Barrett-Jackson whorefest.

I mean, what's the point of owning a car that moves that fast, if you don't move it that fast on a regular basis?

Ever since Mom died, Dad hasn't been the same. He's getting better, but he's definitely got a muted affect. He's got a group of guys from work that he shoots pool and plays poker with a couple times a week, and they've been talking about going deep sea fishing recently; but you can tell he's lonely. It's pretty sad, so I generally try not to think about him all by himself in that empty house.

Then I got an idea: I like cars, the old man likes cars; therefore we should get an old car and restore it. Sounds like a hell of a lot of fun, and I think it'd be cathartic in a number of ways. Thus began the search.

Originally, we looked at old MGB's; late 60's to early 70's; mainly because Dad had one back in the day. I was surprised at the prices they were going for. It's a game that you can get into for cheap; for less than $5k you can get a functioning model. We also looked at Ford pickups from the 50's, a few muscle cars, other classic sedans, etc. I think we've decided we want to buy something for less than five grand, and be able to spend less than five grand on it over the course of the next year getting it back in shape. The total cap would be 10 g's, so whatever we saved on the price of the car we'd just put into the restoration. We'd do all the engine and mechanical work ourselves, and either get something with a good body or hire someone to do touch up work for us.

We both started getting pretty excited this past week. After scouring the web for classic junk for sale, I'm optomistic that we'll be able to find something that fits our budget constraints, but's still fun to drive. I'd love to get something that's got a little of that American muscle under the hood, but those kinds of cars are so sought after that it's getting hard to find something that runs and doesn't have a weighty price tag or isn't ate up with a terminal case of Michigan Cancer.

So, if you live in the South East and you've got something you're willing to part with or know someone who does, holler at me.

The ridiculousness of what Glenn Reynolds has called the 'hairshirt' approach to environmentalism has turned a new corner. According to the article at Bloomberg, some nutter wants to outlaw cars that exceed 100mph:

"Fast, powerful cars within a few years may be outlawed in Europe, an idea that has been raised ostensibly because Ferraris and Porsches produce too much carbon dioxide. For those who abhor sports cars as vulgar symbols of affluence (along with vacation homes, furs and fancy jewelry), such a ban could be a two-fer: Saving the planet while cutting economic inequality."
(emphasis mine)

Firstly, taking someone's Ferrari away is most certainly not going to do a damn thing to cut economic inequality; and such an insinuation is either an attempt incite the class warriors or just petty pot-stirring. What banning these cars would most certainly mean is these people will spend their disposable income on something else. Maybe an exclusive vacation to Fiji - flying in a private jet, no doubt. Or maybe a few extra thousand square feet in their vacation home - that's soaking up gobs of energy all year round.

Secondly, this is an immature attempt at solving a problem, and maybe even a complete misdiagnosis of the problem itself. The problem is not sports cars, it's consumption. That being said, outlawing the relatively small number of exotics in the world would do little to curb consumption. We're talking about the smallest market (per capita) of car buyers, and the cars that are probably driven the least number of miles a year.

A funny little note - just about anything this side of a '73 Civic will hit 100mph. But we'll leave the absurdity of this guideline out, simple out of respect for the member of Parliament who's responsible for this brain fart.

A more viable solution would be to start bumping up our fuel efficiency standards. Via RFK Jr. in Outside Magazine, 11/2004 (one of my favorite quotes):

"Here's how you do it. If we raise fuel-efficiency standards by just one mile per gallon, we save two ANWR's full of oil over the projected 50-year life of the fields. If we raise them 2.7 mpg, that's more than all the oil we import from Iraq and Kuwait combined. If we raise standards by 8 mpg, we don't have to import one drop of Persian Gulf oil into this country. Fuel efficiency is an untapped resource. It's cheap oil."

The good thing about a progressive increase in fuel efficiency standards is that it would pull the automotive industry in conjunction with the recent push from consumers for more efficient vehicles. Give the industry time to learn what consumers want, and to innovate those wants into a quality product. Hell, Lotus has been making fuel efficient, relatively affordable (and immensely fun to drive, might I add) sports cars for years.

As an aside, I just used the words RFK Jr. and progressive in the same breath. Hey, a guy's allowed to dabble, right?

Well, after having the new motor in the car for a few weeks now, I figure it's time to put 'er on the dyno and see what kind of power the setup is putting down on the pavement. Have an appointment today at noon with a local shop. I'm hoping to get 170 or so. I'm planning to tune the entire setup in a few weeks or so, but I just don't have the time right now to go spend a couple hundred bucks and half a day. We've got too much other crap to take care of pre-wedding. After tuning though, I'd be interested to see if we can hit 190 or somewhere in that area.

Also, today's a big day for many ACC fans like myself. Duke and Carolina play tonight...at coach K's house. Now, I understand that Duke is a top ranked team this year. However, the Heels came on this season with a bunch of damn 18 year old's and they've mopped the floor with the veteran competition on many occasions. Granted, they're highly inconsistent, but right now they're looking strong. I'm not going to sit here and say Carolina's gonna beat the crap out of Duke - I'd be (happily) lucky to get a win tonight. But if the game is even close, I'd still be proud of the team. They've surprised a lot of people this year, but I don't know if they have what it takes to surprise the Dukie's at home.

Also, Thursday I leave for Vegas. I'll be there that night on my own, as the folks I'm meeting won't arrive until the next afternoon. I'll be staying on the strip, but I've only ever been there once, and I've never been there alone. What should I check out Thursay night and Friday? Are there any cool little dives I should check out on the strip? I won't have a car, but I'm not opposed to walking, especially if the drink specials are good. Any tips are appreciated!

You don't want to read this.

I feel Oorgo's pain. I jumped in the car to drive back home from class, and the clutch pedal had all the stiffness of a soggy Saltine cracker. Shit. Couldn't even get the car into gear. Probably the master cylinder. Shit. I had to leave my car in the school lot and bum a ride to the bar where the finacee was working. She gets off at three, at which time I will have to pick her up, come home, and get up for work at seven. Shit. Hey, it's not like I was going to use that $800 dollars for anything else right?

When I catch the son of a bitch who used the hood of my car as a pommel horse or to practice his 'Dukes of Hazard' hoodslide or whatever the fuck he thought he was doing - I'm going to string him up by his thumbs and beat him with a spiked bat like some horror show pinata.

Then I'm going to ask him for $70 bucks to pay the paintless dent repair guy. It's just fucking annoying really.

I went to get my car inspected about four months ago because I was due for one like last March right. The dingleberries at the shop failed my car because the turn signals are apparently not the right color.

Not the right color?
Yeah, they gotta be amber, yours are white.
But they flash right? When I push the turn signal lever?
Oh yeah man, it all works. Just need the amber bulbs.
But. But it works. If I was sitting in traffic with my turn signal blinking, no one would miss it, or assume since it's not amber that maybe I was just putting on some kind of low-tech light show. I mean, why fail me right?
-Blank Stare-
That was the way I bought it from the dealer.
Well, if you have the amber bulbs, all you have to do is put them in. You can take them out as soon as the inspection's over for all I care.
So wait. You don't care if it's correct, and even if you know it's going to be incorrect as soon as it gets on the road, you'll still pass me?
Uh, yep.
So why don't you just pass me now, save me the time and effort of having to dismantle and assemble the damn turn signals twice, and we'll just go with that?
Becuase if you get pulled over it's my ass.
But you just said you'd pass me even if you knew it was going to be incorrect as soon as I got the sticker.
How do I know you're not a cop?
Mostly because I don't have a shiny fucking badge on my shirt, but also because if I had a baton I would have beat you retarded with it already. -Walks out-

I look funny in my car. I'm a taller guy, but I drive a smaller car.

So when I wear my helmet, I can't really turn my head all that much. But I'm really just trying to illustrate for you how gangly, gawkily large I am in relation to my car.

As you might have assumed, or already know, I like to work on and in my car. I enjoy it, I'm not neccesarily quick or extensively practiced at it, I just know enough to cause some damage.

Today I replaced the rear speakers in the car since they were getting older and starting to sound like ass. I like music almost as much as I like cars, and I love nothing more than listening to it. It's got to be perfect sounding, not neccesarily always in that new crisp digital way though. If I'm listening to something older, maybe recorded live in a jazz club somewhere, I want to hear the place it's being recorded in. Sometimes that means it's not all ones and zeroes, scrubbed clean, or in sharp focus; and a really good system will bring all the important texture out.

So there I am, backseat folded all the way down, front seats pushed all the way up; shoehorned into an area with the cubic footage of a shopping cart. Spacious hey? I mean, I've got big stupid hands with thick knuckled fingers; and I'm in the lotus position or some shit trying to unscrew bolts the size of hairpins. I'm sweating, I got my damn knees up in my face because that's the only way I can get in the car, and I can only turn the fucking socket wrench like 130 degrees at a time because of the angle of the rear glass. At one point, I had to put my feet through the sunroof and lay back with my head reaching into the trunk to just so I could see what the hell I was doing.

Then it struck me. The breeze (remnant of the recent storm) blew my goddamn trunk down, and one of the spindles struck me right in the nose. I let out a yowl, blinded by the sharp poke. It felt like a damn tazer to the shnoz; it was bringing tears to my eyes. I immediatley try to sit up, succeeding only in thumping my head soundly on the bottom of the rear deck. I groan and hit the floor of the trunk, completely hemmed up by the submission hold my car was inflicting on me.

My old boxing coach used to say, "Sometimes you just take a defeat and learn from it. Pain is the best form of negative reinforcement." I say, I bet 10 to 1 that crotchety fuck never got poked in the nose.

Next time, I'm going to find a skilled midget to do this kind of shit. Those tiny bastards have no idea what a blessing that is. Imagine all the shit I could fix if I was their size! And it wouldn't stop at car repairs either. I bet those fuckers can crawl up in a dishwasher and replace shit without ever having to slide the big bastard out from under the counter. I guess it's just all about perspective.