Category: Love Letters

Dear Mr. President: Mama’s Economic Recovery Plan

Yesterday on Twitter, my friends at Jalopnik asked the intriguing question “Would you trade America’s Car Market for Europe’s?”  And my answer is– Yes, please. I’ll take both. That’s why I’m planning a European Invasion.  Who’s with me? Europe’s economy is in the toilet and we’ve got plenty of our own problems at home.  So I figure let’s take some of our good ole American...

Bitchin’ Camaro

It takes a strong woman to admit when you’re wrong. And Mr. Camaro, I’ve been wrong about you.  But you gotta understand–growing up, Camaros were driven by, well, Guidos and Dirtbags. (If you’re not from the East Coast, you may have to Google that action.) Anyway, for years it was impossible for me to appreciate the low purr of your v8 (not to mention the...

Vantastic!

For too long now, the van has been, well, mini. Or Scooby:         Or Barbie:               But a lot of us grew up with a van that did stuff like this: So, as SUVs get more expensive and more focused on cup holders than rock crawling, the van is emerging as our do-everything alternative.  It all...

In Defense of The Gas Guzzler

Smaller! Lighter! More fuel-efficient! Yay! I’m so sick of fuel-efficient cars, I could barf. I mean, I get it– smog blows, no one wants a hole in the ozone and gas is $5 a gallon. We gotta do something.  But there’s still a side of me that longs for a car with bench seats, 4 ash trays and a body with enough girth to fit...

How You Doin’, El Camino?

It’s happened to all of us.  Somewhere random, like a grocery store, restaurant or gym, you get confronted by someone– someone mysteriously attractive– claiming that they know you from high school. “It’s me, Danny! From the computer lab?” and you think to yourself ‘no way!’ that dude was such a dork in high school!  How did he turn into… a hottie? How did I miss...

The Diane Keaton of Cars

In this land of billionaires, Bugattis and Botox, looking for a flashy car is kinda like looking for fake boobs…throw a rock and you’ll hit one.  Like my friend Garrett told me before I moved here, “BMW is the Honda of LA.” No kidding. If you’re reading from some normal place like, well, anywhere else, think of it this way.  You know when you’re driving...