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David E. Davis Jr.: Spring Arrives and Weird Stuff Shows up Along the Roadside

Photo credit: GETTY IMAGES , THE MANUFACTURER
Photo credit: GETTY IMAGES , THE MANUFACTURER

From Car and Driver

Photo credit: GETTY IMAGES , THE MANUFACTURER
Photo credit: GETTY IMAGES , THE MANUFACTURER
Photo credit: GETTY IMAGES , THE MANUFACTURER
Photo credit: GETTY IMAGES , THE MANUFACTURER

Once Keith Had a Secret Love...

Automotive News is the bible of the automobile industry. Not only does it make that claim for itself, but it is generally accepted as fact by most of the people in all the far corners of the automotive universe. I once testified to that effect in a court of law, at the invitation of Mr. Keith Crain, owner and ­editor-in-chief, who was suing some snapper-wrapper newspaper that was foolishly using the words “Automotive News” to head a column of car stuff gleaned from press releases and Internet gossip. I am much too modest to suggest that my testimony carried the day for Mr. Crain, but that is the case. He thanked me, gave me a plaque commemorating the event, then went back to cordially disliking me.

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Now Mr. Crain has appeared in larger-than-life splendor on page three of his own Automotive News [February 1, 2010], singing the praises of Mr. Ralph Nader and presenting him with the 2010 Keith Crain/Automotive News Lifetime Achievement Award at the Washington, D.C., automobile show. Old Ralph, who appears to be dead but is evidently still breathing, was honored for his dedication to consumer safety. Mr. Nader’s faithful accomplice, Ms. Joan Claybrook—the greatest pest since Princess Diana—was there to bask in the brilliant light of all those good intentions.

Truth is, if anybody deserves credit for improved auto safety, I would respectfully suggest that Daimler-Benz, Saab, Volvo, Consumer Reports, J.D. Power and Associates, and a dozen major automotive suppliers should have preference over Mr. Nader and his pudgy acolyte, Ms. Claybrook.

Strongly worded letter follows.

Doing 1 g With a Coffee in One Hand and a Cell Phone in the Other

Last spring, a traffic circle replaced a somewhat tricky back-road intersection on my daily drive to work. The state of Michigan, in its infinite wisdom, has chosen to call this traffic circle a “roundabout,” which is surprisingly appropriate considering that “roundabout” is the term in use in Great Britain, where they mercilessly abuse the language they invented. Car enthusiasts, of which I am one, prefer to call them “skidpads for the poor.”

Americans are not very good at traffic circles, especially the Americans who share my drive to work and back every day. There have been several accidents. These seem to be mainly side-to-side impacts about two car lengths beyond the “YIELD” signs. There is also a tendency among short, ­middle-aged women to accelerate two-thirds of the way into the circle, then nail the brakes. Woe betide the elderly retired storm-window salesman who is immediately behind her in the Prius his daughter made him buy.

Photo credit: GETTY IMAGES , THE MANUFACTURER
Photo credit: GETTY IMAGES , THE MANUFACTURER

Nobody is comfortable with the European idea that the car in the circle has right of way over cars entering the circle. The solution that I’ve found is to enter the circle absolutely as fast you can go, do one complete lap, then start watching for your exit (and any short women of a certain age who may have wandered into your orbit). As you pass stragglers and they make known their disapproval, smile warmly and raise your hand in a half-wave, half-salute, being careful to keep all four fingers tightly together so that your gesture of highway companionship will not be misinterpreted.

Pickups Rule!

Senator Scott Brown of Massachusetts has taken the Senate seat that was thought to be owned in perpetuity by the Kennedy family of Hyannis Port. This political upset has been interpreted in many ways, but most pundits and political enemies have overlooked the importance of the new senator’s 2005 GMC Canyon pickup truck. The pickup has 200,000 miles on its clock and appears to have performed actual work during the accumulation of those miles.

President Obama was contemptuous of the official campaign pickup and jovially suggested that “everybody can buy a truck.” Meaning, I guess, that only lesser persons would be reduced to running for high office in something less imposing than an armor-plated Cadillac SUV. Those political candidates who piously claim to be “green” have been furiously shopping for little cars with zero emissions and breathtaking fuel economy that will also hold the required number of lawyers, strategists, PR people, and mistresses. Too bad for them. A pickup is in-your-face political theater.

America’s wealthier suburbs are peppered with people who are frightened by pickups, just as they worry that their precious standing in the community will be damaged if they’re seen in a minivan. I predict that all sorts of incumbent weenies will stop trying to be Al Gore and will make the switch to the P.J. O’Rourke of personal transportation, the used pickup truck.

I just sold my gorgeous 2003 Chevy Silverado 4x4 pickup with the special paint job and the melodious Borla cat-back exhaust. Too soon! Too soon! Had I kept it a while longer, I might have won the race for Wash­te­naw County road commissioner.

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