The Quiet American: My First Drive in a new Ford

In 2008, the American auto industry appeared on the verge of utter collapse. General Motors, once an icon of industry, and the largest automaker in the world had become a punch line to every joke about corporate hubris. (My favorite being “If we ever want to end the war on drugs we should just put GM in charge of selling them). Astonishingly, Chrysler as in even worse shape! Chrysler was the battered bride of a failed marriage with Daimler (Mercedez-Benz) which had left it with a gutted corporate office and a line up of cars which seem to have been designed with an active disdain for their buyers. (Honestly – have you ever been in a Neon? It gives you the impression that who ever planned it had an active hatred of any poor fucker unlucky enough to step inside.)

Then there was Ford. While the rest of the American Auto Industry was staying with the long held status quo and keeping their long time leaders, Ford was trying something new. The face of that new approach was Alan Mullaly. Famed for his accomplishments at Boeing Alan was initially viewed as a dark horse when he stepped into the Ford C suite. While Boeing was also a long standing American institution in need of strong leadership to bring new product and end a slump there are some big differences. Boeing relies on 5 products or less, with R&D times that can stretch for decades, a small pool of buyers and one real competitor Ford swims in different seas. Ford has dozens of competitors, five brands and a R&D pipeline based on the assumption that Americans would keep buying frame on ladder SUVs and pickups forever as long as they were comfortable and had a blue oval on the front. Alan thought different, and shortly after taking the helm reinvigorated R&D for Ford’s small car lineup taking the giant risk that Americans would move back to small American cars if they had some good ones to choose for. So far his risk appears to be paying off. Ford skirted bankruptcy.

And their new cars are fantastic.

On a trip this week to Minneapolis I was lucky enough to be the first driver of a 2011 Ford Fusion SE. On first inspection the Fusion is a striking car. It is appealingly shaped with chrome accents which hint at prestige, not rap video aspirations. Mine had eye catching optional projector fog lamps and was painted in a metallic gray/green (we’ll call it green marble) which nicely differentiated it from the anonymous silver hoards without hinting at my only child syndrome induced need for attention.

Stepping inside, it was well finished and spacious. The controls were intuitive and the interior plastics had a pleasant softness to them. During one outing I chauffeured three full sized Minnesotans on a 15 minute drive to lunch without any complaints from the back seat, even from a grain fed six footer. The Sirius radio worked well and the speakers capably supported late night jam sessions with the 90s pop radio station blaring.

Typically I drive a 2000 Integra manual coupe which has I love for its peppiness, driving dynamics and overall fun. While I would not describe the Fusion as fun per se, it is certainly fun capable. With a strong V6 and responsive transmission the Ford can feel down right sprightly on runs down on ramps. Perhaps more importantly excellent brakes paired with active (but not hyper active) traction control made the car feel in control even during snow driving and hard breaking. On several occasions while hitting unexpected ice, the traction control quickly eased the car back into full control without giving the disconcerting feeling that the car is in charge I have experienced in other cars. Good rubber sitting on eye catching 18 inch rims and well weighted steering give the car a planted feel on back featuring hard corners.

The Fusion fits in the Ford line up as a midsize sedan meant to compete with the Camry, Accord, the dreadful Malibu and the embarrassing Sebring. It rests snugly between the Taurus and Fiesta in size and price. I don’t think I will be giving up my sports car aspirations any time soon, but if the day ever comes that I have car seats in the back, the Fusion would absolutely make the list. 

Master of the Universe

Until the age of 11, my favorite thing in the world was to left alone at the beach or along a stream to build. What I built always depended on where I was. If I was by rocky stream, I would build dams and if I was on the beach I would  build sprawling sand castles with foot thick walls.

I would spend an hour pacing my construction site, thinking about how it could best be utilized. Next, it was time to gather provisions. I would walk the surrounding area filling my towel or sweatshirt with supplies. Interesting rocks, shells, water worn sticks... my mind racing to figure out exactly how they would fit into the big picture.

I would put endless time and attention into these small feats of engineering, and I could not be pulled away by any means or for any reason until the creek was stopped, the fleet was fully outfitted or the castle stood impervious above the tide. My parents would try to coax me away with food or trips to other places -- but nothing in the world could be as important as realizing my vision for that particular spot.

As the sun was going down, and it was time to go home I would survey my creation. 500 lbs of rock bringing nature to a stop. Mountains of sand surveying miles of beach. The moment of seeing my dream realized was sometimes almost too much to handle. With my hands raw from sand and rock, my muscles sore and my face sun burned I wound stand for a moment knowing I was the master of the universe.

Then the surge of pain would come. 

The water might get around the damn. 

The older kids might wreck my castle. 

I feared the monuments I had built to me and my ability would never stand the test of time.

With that knowledge I would destroy what I had built until there was nothing.

Overarching Life Updates in 4 Shitty Photos (or how I spent my summer)

It has come to my attention, that while I have done my damndest to ramble about cars and shitty movies, I have done a admittedly piss poor job of having anything particularly personal here lately. The solution? I've decided to throw up some pictures from the past few months with a week bit of context. All of the pictures are from my phone so they look a little crappy.

This is Shinlei, Meg's old boss and her morbidly obese but much loved cat named Bao Dee. Despite his size, Bao Dee is remarkably capable. He can open cabiniets and terrify the shit out of small children. Meg and I were over at Shinlei's for a house warming party which came to a sudden end when one guest managed to fall through the top of a glass table. Amazingly no one was hurt, but the cat was upset and asked the guests to leave.

The here is a picture of a truck in Maine with a freshly caught coon in it. Alternately it may be an unhappy Mainer attempting political satire by implying that Gubernatorial candidate LePage is a raccoon. Either way, this picture was taken on a father son trip up into the Maine woods. We did a lot of hiking including a 14 mile day hike up and around Katahdin. It was great to spend a week with my dad and encounter many strange incidents like the one portrayed above.

This is the new front to my house! After 15 years of living there and wanting the door moved, my mother has finally gotten her way. While I was pretty skeptical of the investment required to move the door 8 feet (about $15k) my mom is so happy about it, and the other changes made so good (new entry to basement, new closet space, new front to the house, new lighting) that I must say it was money well spent.

I've spent a few weekends in Vermont this summer, usually taking time to see my parents and hang out with the home team. My friend Jade (A man despite the name) has opened a gym in the last few weeks which focuses on crossfit. About half of my friends have put down roots in Burlington now that they are out of school The other half of my friends seem to be getting scattered to the wind with a surprising number ending up in Boston.

Lastly, this is my Yerba Mate tea glass that Manasi got me for my 25th birthday. It replaces the french press mug visible in the backgroumd. The new mug is both more functional and better at giving the impression that I am doing exotic drugs at work.

My 25th was pretty amazing. I spent the weekend itself with friends at a camp in Connecticut on a sail boat and in the sauna. While this party was not for me in any way, it was great to be rowdy with old friends. Hannah made me a cake. The following weekend I had people over for a party at my place. There was a strong turnout and wizard sticks abounded. It was a little weird to grapple with the reality that many of my friends do not know each other, and at least some do not like each other. Lastly, I spent the following week in Amsterdam with Meg. It was amazingly low key with a concert and museum trips interspersed between endless hours hanging out in parks and cafes.

Crank II: High Voltage

I was 13 my parents left town for the weekend. As surrogate parents, my parents left an intern and her boyfriend to check in on me. Being Americorp volunteers they had literally no money or fun earthly possessions the young couple decided to take the opportunity to watch a DVD of an odd film that had recently bombed out of theaters.

That film was Fight Club, and it was a game changer for me. For recently pubescent Stephan, it was a revelation. Suddenly I had a template for anti-conformity, taste in film, hatred of corporations, sexual deviance and a Palahniuk fueled sense of superiority. In that one night I became a teenager.

Since then, there have been other movies which, upon first viewing brought about similar personal upheaval. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Pulp Fiction. There's Something about McConkey.

Now comes this. After watching this movie I was left in a heap of elated confusion. It was like a brain liquefying concussion rendered via marshmellow.

The movie starts exactly where the last one left off (you saw the last one right?) with Jason Stathem landing on a car after a fall from a helicopter. He is abducted and whisked off to a secret warehouse. His health is restored for just long enough for his captors pull out his heart and replace it with electric powered unit. This scene features what I believe is the only instance of a cigarette being ashed a body cavity.

He soon finds out that the baddies who wanted to kill him in the first movie are so taken with his ability to stay alive that they are giving his heart to their leader. Stathem seems pretty OK with this until he realizes that they also are planning on taking his penis, at which point he begins an escape plan that culminates with anally violating a man with a shotgun.

After the shotgun raping Stathem heads out to find his heart and kick asses. In an early ass kicking scene, Stathem inadvertently rescues a meth addicted Korean hooker named Ria (or Kia?) from a fat man who wants to kill her. Ria falls instantly in love with him and spends the rest of the movie following him with no apparent purpose.

As in the first movie, Stathem must keep his heart beating at all times. However, since it is an electric heart, he must do this my zapping himself in various ways. These include using a car battery (above), electric cables, and in a well played scene, sex in the middle of a horse race (duh, friction!). Another inspired scene pits Stathem against his nemesis but portrays the battle with 70’s Godzilla style costumes storming through a model town.

It’s hard to explain what makes this movie so great, but since I’ve gotten this far I may as well try. In an age were everything feels derivative purveyors of shitty action movies usually take one of two routes –

First, the sly winking self conscious route which go out of their way to mock themselves subtly. These movies appear on casual viewing to serve up standard action movie fare, but include little moments where the fourth wall is broken and savvy viewers can detect that the director is almost apologizing for the shit they have created. The grammar of these films usually feature a moment where an actor looks knowingly into the camera as they deliver a stupid line, comically large guns and abuse of slow motion. Watching these movies is like hanging out with a self deprecating alcoholic uncle. The fact that they know they are an asshole and are humble about being an asshole really doesn’t get them through the un-pleasantness of them being an asshole.

Most of the time when I watch these movies I can’t help but think that the director is very embarrassed and is hoping that the friends he made in film school will not mock him too much for being a sell out.

Secondly, there is the more dominant action movie played straight. Michael Bay owns this genre. These movies pander shamelessly to the young, the stupid and cinematically uninitiated. At their worst, they try to insert a heavy handed moral. While these movies can be pretty funny to watch with the right group of friends and the right outlook, I can’t help but feeling that Michael Bay hates his viewers.

In fact I know he does.

Actual transcript of a Michael Bay pre-production Meeting.

Studio Head: Michael, we need to pitch an idea this afternoon and we don’t have anything!

MB: Let’s see…  explosions… firm jail bait titties… uhhhh… cars… hmmmm… military vehicles swooshing!

Studio Head: MiBae (his real nick name) that isn’t a movie… you’re just mumbling.

MB:  No goddamnit! These people read fucking MAXIM magazine! The most exciting things in their lives is Keystone and bottle rockets. It may be shit, but if we can entice these fucktards with some PG-13 tits and violence enough to quit touching themselves for 90 minutes, we just might take some of their money.

This literally happens before every Michael Bay Movie.

What makes Crank II enjoyable is a simple, simple thing called fun. It know it’s dumb, but it doesn’t hit you over the head with it. There is no moral. There isn’t even really a good guy. There is only unrestrained ass kicking strung along with a simple plot.

Bonus Question: Does anyone think Jason will ever lose it and due like a three year stint starring in off Broadway plays? 

Market analysis and Mostly benign rambling on the launch of the Chevrolet Volt

Tuesday marked the announcement for pricing on the long awaited Chevy Volt. See, a long time ago in 2007 a corporation called GM showed a concept car in the remote corner of it's green section through the auto show season. It was a much applauded concept but few took it seriously.

Then, the bottom fell out. 18 months later GM and Chrysler were bankrupt wards of the state and the Obama administration was their boss. Suddenly the slow track Volt was GMs top R&D priority. Batteries were abused. Frames were abused. One billion dollars disappeared into a project which was widely seen as GMs most defining moment since it's meteoric rise after WWII.

For many GM embodies the pinnacle of corporate mismanagement. In the last thirty years GM has managed to lose market share in most years. It's business model has been almost entirely on large and high powered SUVs and boat sized sedans. It was once quipped that if you want to end the war on drugs, you could simply put GM in charge of selling them.

But now the Volt is here. If it lives up to its promise, it could remake GM and blow open a whole new market segment. It goes 40 on electricity which costs two to seven cents a mile. After that a gas powered generator kicks on, allowing it to travel another 300 miles. After that the car can be filled, gas, or both to continue on. The interior is well appointed with leather and all types of electronics optional.

Sound good? There is a catch in the from of a $41000-44000 price tag. With the $7500 tax break, the Volt comes in at $33500. This price puts it in competition with the BMW 3, Acura TL and TSX, the Lexus IS, Cadillac CTS, the Audi A4 and the Corvette.

So can they do it? The luxury car market has been soft and the Volt lacks in performance... I think that's ok. At a time when Camrys come with 260 ponies and Mustangs get 30mpg there is room in every niche.

There will be just 10,000 volts in the first year, most of which will be accounted for long before the first one makes it to show rooms. Depending on initial quality and consumer reaction it seems likely that at very least GM will have a small market success on it's hand. A feather in its cap to show that GM can do innovative and environmentally sound things.

The true make or break will come down to what gas prices do. Peak oil has arrived, and if the economy picks up rapidly we will see $4 gas return, in which case the Volt would justify its premium price to a much larger audience.

Verdict

After some writing something about deliberation, I have decided not to post it.

As much as I wish I could be objective, the truth is that I still have some strong feelings about what went on in the Jury room, and I don't think I can give everyone a fair shake.

I will say that all present in the room brought strong perspectives and processes to coming to a consensus, and that I am very proud of what we accomplished.

Getting 12 people to agree unanimously on what to have for lunch is near impossible. Getting twelve people to agree on the fate of two young men who participated in an incident which resulted in a death is nothing short of a miracle.

I would like to specifically point out the contribution of Kurt Miller. Kurt is a teacher and served as the Jury foreman. His ability to keep a cool head and a sense of humor kept the powder keg of 12 people locked in a room from ever going off.

Our verdict was that Eugene Teixeira was guilty of manslaughter. We came to this unanimous decision based on the criteria that he killed Shadide Wiggins during physical fight during which he sustained injuries. There was no evidence presented which proved beyond a reasonable doubt that Eugene provoked the conflict or had the intent to cause grievous bodily harm prior to the beginning of the fight. Eugene will face 13 years in prison. He will be 36 when he gets out. He has been in jail since he was 21, and in and out of the system prior to that for several other lesser crimes.

Our verdict was that Aasim Smith was not guilty of aiding and abetting in the unlawful killing of Shadide Wiggins. While small amounts Shadide's of blood were present on Aasim's pant leg, we found this evidence did not conclusively link Aasim to any actual contact Shadide given the amount of blood in the apartment. All testimony, and the 911 tape also suggests that Chris Burnell was successful in restraining Aasim during the conflict.

Splice or "Why you shouldn't have sex with your genetically altered freak baby"

Howdy folks - as you may have noticed I am getting pretty close to the end of writing about the trial. I hope that it's been insightful (or at least readable) and am hoping to finish up by the end of the week. It's been a lot of fun to write about although it takes a lot of energy for reasons I don't entirely understand. For that reason, I've decided to take a break again and write about something fun.

SPLICE!

I'm writing this with spoilers. So maybe you should go see this fine film before you read it.


Where to begin? For starters I'd like to point out this movie crosses at least four genres. First, it is a fine Sci-Fi as allegory for the human condition movie like 2001, Sunshine, Moon, Children of Men or Event Horizon. Next, it has horror element which comes in during the third act. Additionally, the beginning has an undeniable family drama component about the challenges of having a child and balancing work with life. Finally there is a level of dark comedy that holds all the pieces together.


The film opens with power couple Elsa and Clive having just created a pair of synthetic creatures that look like slugs. These nasty little critters have been created as a way to produce chemicals to be used as medicine for livestock. Elsa and Clive are the managers of NERD, an autonomous lab which is art of a mega medical company run by an evil French looking women.

Despite their status and successes, we soon learn that all is not well. They need to deliver actual drugs from their freaky little critters, which means less time having fun. They dream of creating a human spliced critter, but the evil French looking women puts the kybosh on it as being too costly. There are troubles at home too - Clive wants babies, but his controlling but lovable wife doesn't want to deal with a pregnancy and child changing the power structure of their marriage.

These troubles seem to have a simple resolution as they try to prove that a human can be included in a spliced critter. They successfully splice the genes, and Clive is happy letting it rest at that, but Elsa wants to see if the DNA can actually be used. Clive grudgingly agrees.

Of course, things go wrong, and what was supposed to be a proof of concept that they kill has soon turned into this cute little squirrel thing.

Elsa is taken with the little critter and refuses to let Clive kill it. Soon she is taking care of it and dressing it like a child.

During this side experiment, things in the lab have gone to shit. No progress is being made isolating the needed chemical from their previous experiment, and so the parent corporation starts to take over. With their backs against the wall, Elsa and Clive take their creature to an old farm which belonged to Elsa's bat shit crazy mother.

The creature (named Dren or nerd backwards) has developed rapidly with powerful cognitive abilities  and a kicking bod. Kind of hard to explain, but by ditching CGI in favor of crazy make up, Dren is given an oddly sexy presence as a hairless hottie with a tail.

The movie shifts gears at the farm where Elsa stays home during the day giving the girly attention to Dren that she never received and Clive works long hours to keep the project going at work. Dren takes quickly to being a teenage girl, acting out, clutching a cat as her only friend and developing a crush on Clive.

Elsa realizes Dren's crush on her husband and loses her shit. She take Dren's cat which results in Dren attacking her. Elsa cuts off a piece of Dren which she then takes to the lab while Clive has his turn to babysit. Dren seduces Clive and the the audience bares witness to the second of three very uncomfortable sex scenes.

Elsa walks in on them and runs away with Clive chasing shirtless behind her. They reconvene at their old apartment where Elsa conveys her pain and dismay at the fact that Clive has cheated on her after 7 years with a teenage mutant alien love child. They agree that Dren belongs as an experiment, not as part of their life.

They return to find that Dren is dead, and they proceed to bury her and start to burn her stuff. They are sad, but there is a feeling that things will finally go back to normal between them. As they are cleaning, an employee of the company arrives with Clive's brother who knew about Dren. They have come to claim Dren as property of the company.

Dren quickly kills him (She's a he now and he has wings) and drags away Clive's brother. Elsa and Clive chase after him into the woods but become separated. Dren then stalks Elsa, finally crushing her to the ground - then in the most uncomfortable sex scene I have ever seen -  rapes her. Clive comes in time to stab Dren in the heart, but he is killed in the process. Elsa finishes the injured Dren with a rock to the head.

The film closes with a shot of pregnant Elsa in the office of the evil French lady. She has agreed to have the mutant rape incest baby for a large amount of money.

"Why is this odd movie so good?", you might be wondering. It's certainly not the sex scenes. What makes this movie really good in my eyes in the pacing and patience with character development. Elsa and Clive own 90% of the screen time, and almost all of it contributes to the viewers understanding of them as a character. Even when you hate them, it is hard not to empathize with them. This is achieved with out making the movie too slow or compromise it's message.