At 9:30am this morning, a group of lawyers representing bankrupt auto parts supplier Delphi will appear in front of Federal Bankruptcy Judge Robert Drain. The lawyers will file legal motions for Sections 1113 and 1114. It's a legal request to void Delphi's current collective bargaining agreements with the United Auto Workers (UAW). The moment the judge says the word "granted," he will terminate the wage structure, post-retirement health care and life insurance plans for the company's 33k US hourly workers. The UAW will respond with a strike against Delphi. Starved of its former subsidiary's parts, GM's assembly lines will fall silent. The General will begin its final slide into Chapter 11.

There will be a gap between Delphi's filing, the judge's final ruling (May 9th) and industrial action. During this highly fraught interregnum, Delphi President Steve 'Quotation Marks' Miller may make a fourth wage and benefits offer to the UAW. The proposal would fall somewhere between the workers' current compensation ($27 per hour) and Miller's last last stand ($16.50 per hour). As we've said before, the UAW will accept nothing less than the status quo, and that's somewhere where Miller won't go– at least not without GM footing the bill. Common sense says if GM CEO Rick Wagoner was going to ride to Delphi's rescue, he would have done so already. Chances are he can't.

Grizzly Pete owned a Jeep. My college roommate's idea of a relaxing weekend: drive into Death Valley with a handgun and a knife and forage for food and water. Pete didn't need GPS; he could navigate via stars reflected off tortoise shells. Heated seats? He'd rub two Gila monsters together until they burst and spread their warm innards on his chair. Parking radar? Pete was the master of the dry lake reverse bootlegger's turn. And if Pete gouged his truck on the razor sharp spines of a Joshua tree, so much the better. A Jeep looked more like Jeep with trail damage. Amen.

Flash forward (mumble) years. I've spent a week putting (15 MPG) and blasting (8 MPG) around Los Angeles in a Jeep Grand Cherokee Limited. Yeah, it's got a HEMI, complete with cylinder deactivation/vasectomy. It was also equipped with a six-disk in-dash changer, Sirius satellite radio, a rear seat DVD player, adjustable pedals, heated leather seats, dual-climate zones, auto brights, a GPS navigation thingy, ParkSense (backup beeping), traction control, a manu-matic gear grabber and blingy chrome rims. I'd no sooner take this luxochariot off-road than I'd take Pete's battered Jeep down Rodeo Drive.

Remember when the words 'luxury' and 'pickup' went together like "reality" and "television?" Well neither does Ford. These days, Ford offers the F150 in three levels of lavishness. There's the understated luxury Lariat, the b-b-b-bad to the bone Harley-Davidson and the steakhouse on wheels known as the King Ranch. So when Lincoln charged its badge engineers with creating a replacement for the ill-conceived, ill-fated Blackwood pickup based on a pre-swanked F150, they figured– sensibly enough– that the road to success was paved with bricks of bling.

To distance the Mark LT from its genetic twin, Lincoln's retrofitters substituted a gigantic version of their "waterfall' grill for the F150's demure nose. The end result is bold– in the same sense that a sledgehammer slamming through a plate glass window is aggressive. Just in case you missed the big Lincoln's spizzarkleprow, the LT also rolls with half-chromed side mirrors and chrome appliqués running from the front bumper along the entire length of the lower body sides. Ditto the oversized badges on the grille, fenders and tailgate. If you're a pickup driving homie who thinks that too much of a good thing is a good start, you can option-up 18' chrome wheels, shiny bed rails and dazzling step bars. It's OEM pimpery, Lincoln style.

Testing a Gallardo SE in Miami is like sipping Chateau Lafite Rothschild in a public urinal. The little Lambo was born to annihilate the twisting mountain roads surrounding Italy's supercar valley, or flirt with V3 on a derestricted German autobahn. Miami's geometric streets and traffic-choked highways offer the Gallardo driver nothing more than a sinuous onramp and an occasional half-mile sprint– which is plenty damn exciting but about as satisfying as red wine slammers. So, whilst fending-off a frantic flackmeister preoccupied with the definition of the words "driving impression," I guided the baby bull towards the nearest race track.

As I quick-quick-slowed through the cars clogging I-95 North, I was taken aback by the lack of stare and attention given the Gallardo. With its strange combination of diminutive footprint, cab forward stance, drop snout, near horizontal windshield and unrelenting angularity, the Gallardo lacks what native S-Class owners call "uberholprestige": that indefinable yet unmistakable car-isma that convinces fellow road users to move the Hell over. Either that or Floridians are fed-up with the automotive tastes of Bolivian drug lords. In any case, we now know what happens when a Belgian designs a supercar for a legendary Italian nameplate under the wary eye of a German conglomerate; and it ain't what I'd call pretty.

German filmmaking giant Werner Herzog speaks often about our culture suffering from a 'lack of adequate imagery.' This means that you walk into the dentist's office and there's that same damn picture of the Grand Canyon or a Moulin Rouge poster. Since Herzog now lives where I do, I'll take his theory a step further and proclaim that we are really suffering from a lack of adequate sound imagery. If I ever hear the Beatles again, I'll slit my throat. Gwen Stefani? Your throat. Thankfully, Steve Jobs solved this problem by developing the iPod.

As predicted, the American Family Association (AFA) has renewed its boycott of the Ford Motor Company. The move comes after The Blue Oval reneged on a private pledge to the AFA to stop advertising in gay and lesbian media, and end direct financial support to gay and lesbian events and organizations. When the story broke back in December, Ford denied the AFA deal. They claimed the decision to pull Jag and Land Rover ads from gay-oriented publications was "strictly business." When that didn't fly with the gay, bisexual, lesbian and transgender (GBLT) community, Ford reversed itself and kept the cash flowing. Thus the AFA's retaliation for their alleged betrayal. Now what?

This time 'round, Ford has taken a sensible line on the AFA's boycott: ignore it and hope it goes away. Yesterday, Blue Oval Spinmeister Kathleen Vokes issued a written statement more generic than store brand soap. 'Ford is proud of its tradition of treating all with respect, and we remain focused on what we do best — building and selling the most innovative cars and trucks.' Ignoring Henry Ford's vicious anti-Semitism and the brand's spurious claim to technological supremacy, the official pronouncement left little doubt about Ford's current perspective on the AFA's goals. Not to put too fine a point on it, Vokes' words were multi-national corporate PR speak for "fuck off and die."

I've been formally instructed never to put numbers into a lead paragraph. So let's just say I've been lucky enough to own roughly as many cars as there are basic cable channels. While I've enjoyed every single one of my motors for at least a month, I can state without a moment's hesitation that I didn't enjoy buying any of them. I find the car buying process only slightly more enjoyable than colonoscopy, yet remarkably similar. (No anesthetic, though.) In fact, I'm hoping this car reviewing thing will wean me off my ownership addiction. 'Cause if you haven't figured it out by now, let me tell it to you straight: buying cars is a beeyatch. And I swear it's getting worse.

For starters, there's been a wholesale change in the decision timeline. What once was a late summer/early fall dramatic new-model reveal has become one dazzling, continuous roll-out of new steel. Los Angeles, Detroit, Chicago, Frankfurt, Geneva, New York, Tokyo… it's one damn car show after another, all instantly available on-line. Once upon a time, Harley Earl fans had nearly a year to settle in with their purchase decision. Nowadays enthusiasts experience buyer's remorse before they buy. You just know that whatever you settle on today will be superseded by something better within days. And if you actually buy a car it's gonna be… If only I'd waited just a little longer… I wonder what it would cost to trade…

When Chrysler unveiled its PT Cruiser in 2001, it was hailed as a fun, versatile retro-mobile. While sales have remained relatively robust, virtually every automaker in the Cruiserweight class has introduced a new or reworked small wagon: the Toyota Matrix/ Pontiac Vibe twins, Mazda 3 and Chevrolet HHR (a.k.a. 'Me-Too Cruiser') among them. Even the [...]

Ward's Automotive recently profiled Pete Gerosa, GM's former Vice President for Field Sales, Service and Parts. Although Gerosa's heading for retirement, he's still on the road, selling the company line to GM's dealer network. Reporter Steve Finlay painted the 42-year industry veteran as a living link between GM's past and professed future: selling the vehicle, not the deal. While Finlay pressed Gerosa on GM's so-called value pricing, the scribe failed to confront the exec about GM's recent sales incentives or The General's March Madness campaign. In any case, Finlay's feature contained a telling tale.

At a dealer conference, David Latshaw, finance director at Shaver Pontiac in Thousand Oaks, CA, asked Gerosa why GM can't build enough Solstii to meet demand. "Our dealership had 600 initial orders and only got thirteen cars,' Latshaw said. "What is the right number?' Gerosa answered. 'Too many, and you discount. Too few, and there are waits. But thirteen is too low." Ya think? Latshaw: 'We put a sold Solstice in the showroom just to display it, and people were saying, 'I want to buy that car!' They got mad when we told them they couldn't. They were freaking out. We had to hide the car in back." Before we file that one under defeat, from the jaws of victory snatched, note Gerosa's inability to accept responsibility for the company's screw-up or promise any kind of resolution to an ongoing problem.

Brian Wilson is a genius. Back in the day, he'd craft a pop song that etched itself deep into your brain, change a few chords, alter the harmonies and… brainwash you again. Bryan Nesbitt was the chief designer of Chrysler's phenomenally successful P.T. Cruiser. After switching to the Chevrolet label, Nesbitt has picked up his [...]