The Tesla battery swap project has been in the works for some time, with the Model S apparently having the capability for battery-swapping from the get-go. There are a few issues that come into question here; what kind of technology will be used to help swap a 1,200 pound battery in under 5 minutes? What level of automation will be used? How does this conflict (or complement) with the whole Supercharger network? We’ll have to wait until Thursday to find out.

Four wheel drive, all wheel drive, 4WD, AWD, full-time, part-time, 4Hi, 4Lo, 4×4. There are many names and just as many ways of motivating every wheel a vehicle has on the ground. What’s the difference between four-wheel-drive and all-wheel-drive? In one word: Marketing. Want to know more? Click past the jump as we dive in the most controversial topic since “Dodge vs Chevy.”

Motivating four wheels in a car isn’t new, we’ve been doing it for over 110 years. If you thought this was a recent affectation, you’re not crazy. Over the last 30 years there has been an explosion in the number of vehicles powering a quartet of tires. There has also been a similar explosion in the number of ways we power four wheels. At the same time the way systems are designed, marketed and used have converged and with them the terms AWD and 4WD have have practically merged. Of course, the SAE does have a definition “an all-wheel-drive vehicle is one that has an on-demand feature that occasionally sends power to the non-primary powered wheels.” But what that means has changed a great deal over time.

The Good Old Days

Let’s set the way-back-machine to 1970. Trucks and “Jeeps” had 4WD aka 4×4 systems. The system had to be engaged manually once you were on a loose surface because they “locked” the inputs of the front and rear differentials together making turning difficult on high traction surfaces. Engaging AWD on pavement could result in damage to the systems, or at the very least strange road manners. These systems were found on vehicles that would otherwise be RWD like trucks and truck-based “things.” Frequently the transfer case featured a reduction gear for more severe situations.

Then came the 1970 Land Rover Range Rover (above), the self-proclaimed “first mass-produced vehicle with full-time AWD.” (Note they didn’t call it 4WD until later.) The system used a lockable center differential that allowed the front and rear axles to spin at different rates on pavement allowing the system to be engaged at all times. The system was designed with off-roading in mind, so the transfer case had a low range like like the rugged truck based systems at the time in addition to the full-lock feature.

Then came the AMC Eagle. AMC jammed a new NP119 transfer case made by New Process Gear behind a Chrysler transmission. The unit featured a viscus coupling to the front axle that would allow power to flow to both axles simultaneously while still allowing them to turn at different rates. But this AMC wasn’t a truck, didn’t have a low-range and had an independent front suspension. Not knowing what to call it, AMC called it 4×4. So much for standards.

Then Audi released the Quattro in 1980, but despite featuring a manually lockable center differential, Audi chose to call it “all-wheel-drive” or AWD. (Later Quattros were automatic.) The AWD vs 4WD differentiation was born. Soon everyone was getting into the four-wheel-motivation game but nobody agreed what to call the systems. In 1982 Fiat introduced the world to the first four-wheel-motivated vehicle with a transverse engine layout and a transaxle (the Fiat Panda 4×4). It was the start of a revolution. Some car companies followed Audi’s suit and referred to car systems as AWD while the  Toyota Tercel, Dodge Colt and others sported 4WD or 4×4 labels. This was the start of the “that’s not four-wheel-drive, that’s all-wheel-drive” argument.

By the ’90s SUVs started to roam the land. The box-on-frame creatures borrowed their drivetrains from  truck parts bins and brought with them 4×4 and 4WD monikers. (And a bevy of full-time and part-time systems.) Meanwhile, the proliferation of AWD systems exploded and we soon started seeing them in everything from Chrysler minivans to the Porsche 993. Despite the proliferation, the industry had more-or-less settled on calling longitudinal “truck” systems 4WD/4×4 and “car” systems (especially transverse systems) AWD.

The 21st Century

Crossovers happened. In truth the crossover was born in the 20th century, but the era of the “modern crossover” dawned within the last 15 years. In 1995, crossovers were a microscopic segment composed of jacked-up station wagons. By 2005 the non-truck utility vehicles accounted for more than 50% of the segment. At the dawn of the 2014 model year there are few “traditional” SUVs left, especially in the volume mid-sized segment. Those that remain account for a minority of sales.

Back to the marketing. Now, more than ever, the lines between truck and car are being blurred by marketing speak. Ford calls their Explorer AWD while Nissan is claiming the Pathfinder had 4WD and Chrysler says the Jeep Patriot is a 4×4. The truth is all three drivetrains operate on the same general design as that 1982 Fiat Panda: the transverse AWD system. The system Fiat called “4×4″ in the 1980s is now thought of as “AWD” by Fiat in this decade. What gives?

The Current State of Affairs

This brings us to the present. Now that we know the AWD vs 4WD vs 4×4 battle is a war of marketing speak, and we have a bit of history under our belts. Let’s talk about how AWD systems work. Why? Because it’s more important to know how the systems work than what they are called. Let’s go over them one by one. Since I’m not a graphic artist I’ll toss in a rough power-flow diagram to show how each system works.

Part time locking systems with a longitudinal layout

In the picture above we have a traditional “truck” system, the one that some people will call a “real 4×4.” There is no center differential so the system shouldn’t be used on-pavement because the front and rear axles cannot spin at different speeds. The system has to be engaged by the user in some manner, either with a lever or a button. Most systems use a chain drive to connect the front and rear axles so power flow is (in theory) locked 50/50 front/rear. If one rear wheel is freely spinning, the front wheels will still have grip. If one front wheel and one rear wheel freely spin, the vehicle won’t move. To solve that problem the systems usually include some form of locking or limited slip differential in the rear or both rear and front axles. The systems are typically very rugged and if the system employs fully-locking axles on the front and rear power is exactly 25/25/25/25 percent wheel to wheel and if three wheels lost traction the remaining wheel can consume all 100% of available power. Some systems integrate a low-ratio reduction gear into the transfer case.

Full time systems with a longitudinal layout

Based on the part-time systems we just talked about, Land Rover was the first company to use an existing idea to improve their new luxury off-roader and added a center differential after the reduction gear. This system became all the rage after AMC brought it to the mainstream in 1979 for the 1980 Eagle. These systems can take a variety of different forms. The “center differential” can be a simple open unit, a limited slip, a Torsen that apportions power unequally (i.e. 75% rear, 25% front unless slip occurs) or a simple viscous coupling which isn’t technically a differential at all. Each type of stem has benefits and drawbacks depending on your application. Open diffs apportion power equally, but if the front or rear wheels loose traction the car can’t send power to the other axle. Limited slip systems (including manual or auto-locking units) can connect the front and rear together, thus operating like a part-time system when the unit is fully engaged. If the system engaged on pavement however you can get a “binding” feel in tight turns. Torsen units are primarily used in performance oriented systems like high-performance variants of SUVs where you want added traction but a decidedly RWD bias.

You’ll find full-time systems of some description in the current Audi Q7, Jeep Grand Cherokee/Wrangler, Mercedes ML/GL/GLK/G, BMW X1/X3/X5/X6, GM’s full-size SUVs, Dodge Durango, Infiniti EX/FX, Land Rover LR4/Range Rover/Range Rover Sport, Lexus GX/LX, Nissan Armada, Porsche Cayenne, Volkswagen Touareg, Subaru Forester/Tribeca/Outback/XV, Toyota FJ/Land Cruiser/4 Runner/Sequoia.

Is that a long list? Yes. However that a complete list (insofar as I know) of SUVs currently sold on our shores with this type of a system. Why did I bother to list them all? Because it shows how few of this type of system there really are in the utility vehicle segment. Just a few years ago this number was higher and the market share of this system was higher still.

Subaru and Audi you ask? Yes indeed. Audi’s longitudinal systems and Subaru’s AWD systems claim to be different or superior to the competition, but in reality the only difference is that they merge the center and front differentials into the transmission housing resulting in a space savings, but not necessarily a weight savings. (Mercedes claims 4Matic will take a scant 150lb toll in 2014, 50lbs lighter than Quattro.) This also means that the Subaru systems share design elements with traditional rugged body-on-frame SUVs, something that Subaru owners seem to rarely know but might want to brag about.

Transverse engine based systems

British Motor Corporation popularized transverse engine front-wheel-drive systems in 1959 with the launch of the original Mini. The drivetrain layout has been so popular that the same basic design is used by 16 of the top 20 best-selling vehicles in America. (Everything but the full-size pickups on the top-20 list.) This drivetrain layout represented a challenge to AWD development, so it wasn’t until 1982 that Steyr-Daimler-Puch produced a four-wheel motivation system based on a transaxle. (For that Fiat Panda.)

What’s a transaxle? Excellent question. A transaxle is a transmission that integrates a front differential into its casing. That’s an important thing to keep in mind because the transaxle is why FWD layouts are preferred for fuel economy. In a transverse transaxle the power doesn’t have to “turn” 90 degrees to spin the front wheels. HOWEVER, in a transverse transaxle based AWD system, the power has to make two 90 degree turns on its way to the rear wheels. First power leaves the transmission, then heads to an angle gear which sends it to the back. Then power flows to the rear differential which turns power 90 degrees to the wheels. This is part of the reason that transverse full-time systems that always send power to the rear are [in general] just as efficient as longitudinal “RWD based” AWD systems. (This is why most of them disconnect the rear wheels whenever possible.)

While there are exceptions to this rule, 99% of transverse FWD systems have a fundamental difference from longitudinal systems because of the integrated front differential. Instead of creating a purpose built AWD transaxle, what car makers do is just extend the power output of the transmission (before the differential) out of the transmission case and into the angle gear that sends power to the back. (See the diagram above.) This means that the input to the front and rear differentials are tied, just like a part-time locking system that we discussed above. To keep the system from binding and improve fuel economy a clutch pack or a viscus coupling is placed between the angle gear and the rear differential. This allows the rear wheels to be uncoupled, but does nothing about the front wheels. Systems like this are incapable of sending more than 50% of the power to the rear unless the front wheels have zero traction. Acura’s SH-AWD system takes things one step further and uses an “acceleration device” aft of the clutch pack to make the rear wheels spin faster than the front wheels thereby giving the vehicle a slight rear “bias” even when the front wheels have traction.

Transverse systems come in many different flavors so it’s important to know what you’re buying before you sign on the line. Some systems on the market are “slip-and-grip” systems like the Honda CR-V which won’t lock the center clutch pack unless front wheel slip occurs. Then we have systems like the Ford Explorer which usually sends some power to the rear, locks the coupling during hard acceleration and varies it depending on vehicle dynamics. The Honda Ridgeline allows the center coupling to be locked in first gear while Jeep’s Patriot allows the center coupling to be almost fully locked at all speeds.

2014 Jeep Cherokee Trailhawk

Perhaps the ultimate hybrid and head scratcher will be the 2014 Jeep Cherokee. Chrysler has yet to release complete details about the system, but what we can glean from the spec sheets and interviews is a system that meets all the criteria of a “traditional” 4×4/4WD system but has a functional layout similar to the systems “real” off-roaders would laugh and point at. We have a 9-speed automatic, nothing unusual there, but next we get something new for a transverse vehicle: a 56:1 (I4) or 47:1 (V6) reduction gear positioned after the transmission but infront of the differentials. (That’s lower than the Grand Cherokee and not too far off the 71:1 in the Wrangler.) Like the other systems, inputs for the front and rear diffs are mechanically tied and a clutch pack is used to connect or disconnect the rear axle from the transmission. Unlike many of the systems however, the 2014 Cherokee can fully lock the center coupling and Jeep tossed in an electronic locking rear differential.

I’ll close by posing a question: If my 2001 GMC Envoy (GMT360 SUV) with its two-speed transfer case and locking center differential can be considered a 4WD/4×4 vehicle. What is the Cherokee? AWD or 4WD? With 4-Low range and a locking rear differential it meets all the traditional requirements, but under the hood you’ll find a four-cylinder or V6 engine sitting sideways. This author’s humble opinion is that the name doesn’t matter if the vehicle does what you expect of it. That Cherokee? We’ll have to wait and see but I suspect it will be as capable as a Grand Cherokee mostly thanks to a substantially lighter curb weight.

Cops? I see no cops.

TTAC is owned by Verticalscope, a company that quietly owns hundreds of car sites. This allows for an interesting division of labor. Colum Wood of Autoguide can drive “13 Porsches in 8 hours,” while yours truly has time to visit the Tokyo Toy Show.  At work, Mr. Wood “wound up hitting 0-60 mph in three seconds in a 911 Turbo S, sliding sideways in the 2014 Cayman S and winding up on three wheels in a Cayenne… all in the span of just a few hours,” while yours truly wound up in a Tokyo jail for attempted grand theft toy auto. Not just any toy auto. I was caught stealing a prototype that costs somewhere in the neighborhood of the grand total of Colum’s 13 Porsches.

And here is the story.

Camatte’s proud parents

Kota Nezu and Kenji Tsuji remind me of my spent youth. They look like “Art Director meets Product Manager,” casted for a Japanese version of Mad Men.

The designer

Nezu’s hair is dyed red, there are jewelry implants in his teeth, he has two piercings in the ear, and who knows how many elsewhere. TTAC’s cross-cultural adviser, Frau Schmitto-san, says: “He would be a big hit at certain Tokyo parties I used to go to before I met you.”

Chief Designer and Chief Engineer

Tsuji is prim, proper, and he would vanish in the sea of  millions of salary men that squeeze each morning into the Tokyo subway. The redhead and the salary man fathered a child together.

Camatte, semi-nude

The child is the Camatte, and it is one of the biggest toy cars I have ever seen. It is nearly 10 feet long, and a little bit less than 5 feet wide. Right now, it has a top speed of just 25 mph, but switch the engine, and it “could go much faster” grins Nezu, and the diamond in his choppers blinks furiously.

You can buy a truly bespoke Camatte – if you could buy it

The two fathered the Camatte when Toyota was invited to show something at last year’s Tokyo Toy Show. Tsuji is a Project Manager at Toyota’s Product Planning Department, a title and a function that are as nondescript as the millions of salary men. Tsuji develops cars. Nezu-san, the man with the red mop, designed cars for Toyota before he went out on his own to start Znug Design, an industrial design company that does everything from $100,000 motorbikes to thermos cans. Tsuji and Nezu have done other projects together before, and the Camatte is a joint brainchild.

Take ‘em off!

The brainchild was illegitimate for a while, a skunk works project, until then Toyota R&D Chief Takeshi Uchiyamada put his hanko of  approval under the matter. The first generation Camatte was shown at last year’s toy show. Akio Toyoda made an appearance, loved what he saw, and Tsuji is now full-time toy car development chief.

Or rather the conventional “We made that car” pose?

The backbones of the car are provided by a structure made from welded aluminum tubes and profiles. A lot in the car is exchangeable. The car I am looking at has an electric motor, powered by a mere mortal 48 volt lead acid battery. The engine can easily be swapped for an internal combustion engine. All four wheels are on double wishbones, for added soup-upability.

Tsk, TTAC – no manners

When I hear that the car is drivable, I immediately ask for a test drive. I am given the “are you out of your expletive deleted mind, Schmitto-san?” look.

Panel-opticum

The skin of the car is made from 57 small lightweight panels. That’s why the Gen II camatte is called Camatte57s.

“Camatte” can mean “pay attention,” in Japanese, or “take care.” The “s” stands for the Japanese word sawaru, which means “to touch,” I’m told. I need to remember that word.

Even the vicarious racer will remember this

The swapping of the 57 panels is fast and easy: They attach with quick-release pins, no tools, fingers do it.

Touch me, twist me, tweak me

The quick-release pins have a green ring. On the Camatte, the color green signals that something can be changed or adjusted. The toy car is dotted with many, many green rings.

What are little girls made of?

Without tools, the car can one minute be a vehicle that projects an air of kawaii sugar and spice.

What are little boys made of?

Then, pull a few snaps, attach new panels, plug a few pins, and the thing morphs into a brutish GI-Joe military-mobile, for the snails and puppy-dogs’ tails contingent.

Seat and pedals adapt to person

Driver seat and pedals adjust to accommodate both kid and grown-up. Pull a lever, and the seat slides back, and the pedals move forward: Room for a mature driver.  Pull a lever again, the seat comes forward and up, and the pedals touch the tootsies of the tyke. Sugoi!

This Middle-Eastern gentleman tried to order a whole fleet of Camatte for his children. The order was denied

The car is strictly a design study, a concept car with no plans for commercialization. In the strictly hypothetical case of the car ever going on sale, it could be driven by a grown-up through traffic, and, with the tuck of the two levers, by a child. The latter on a closed course, of course. When we discuss where kids could drive the Camatte, its fathers admit that that’s a problem in Japan. Very few people have a fenced-in yard, and if they have one, it is barely wide enough to accommodate a wheel barrow. Muzukashi desu nee – that’ll be difficult.

Survey says: He will soon lose his appetite for cars

The car in search of a place to be driven is born from a concern that kids are no longer interested in cars. “We have done studies that show young kids actually like cars very much,” says Kenji Tsuji, and his research is confirmed by rows of pre-schoolers that line up for a minute behind the wheel of a stationary Camatte while Mom or Dad whip out the iPhone to snap a few pics, for immediate upload to Facebook. “Once children go to elementary school, they rapidly lose interest,” says Tsuji, and he frowns, while Nezu mimes throw-smartphone-out-of-the-window.

Elementary school marks the onset of vehicular attention deficit syndrome

There are two theories for the sudden vehicular attention deficit syndrome. One theory blames the smartphone. I have heard that many times. The other theory is new, and it is surprising to hear it from the developer of contemporary cars.

Surveys measure the Camatte’s impact on show goers

“Modern cars are communication killers,” says Tsuji with a worried face. “Toddlers are strapped into a child seat in the back. No communication. In the olden days, father and mother would at least argue about the temperature being too high or too low. Now it’s all automatic, and there is no need to communicate.” Our discussion is – chotto matte kudasai – interrupted by an incoming call on Tsuji’s Smartphone on vibrating manner mode.

We need to talk: A car designed for communication

Nezu and Tsuji see the Camatte as a conversation starter, as a car parents and children can build, change, and rebuild together. They can do that undisturbed by modern frills. A regular car reviewer would decry a dash made from hard plastic in the Camatte, and a lack of both Bluetooth and USB. It doesn’t even have a radio.

Car made from 100% unobtainium

No price of the car is known, or even contemplated. Knowing what drivable prototypes cost to build, I throw out that a few millions of dollars must have been sunk into the project. Nobody rises to say my assertion is way off. Currently, no amount of money can buy the Camatte. I get a firm “No!” when I ask whether Toyota would listen if, say, a big toymaker would walk into the booth, with an offer to license the design. Not even on an OEM basis? “No!”

He has the right idea: That’s the starter button

I have driven many cars in my life, they came with the job. Usually, cars stir emotions in me similar to what the sight of a sausage does to a butcher: We watch car and wurst with professional detachment.

That little Camatte however, the machine that is made to make parents and children talk to each other, speaks to me. The more I look at it, the more I want to take it home, the lack of a yard be damned.

They thought I had lost it

I try to talk my handler from Toyota into a long-term loaner, he says I am very funny. I ask Tsuji-san whether he would take a check, and how much should I make it out for. He agrees with my handler that I am a very humorous guy.

So I decide to steal the thing…

Those aren’t miles. And it exaggerates, as usual

On Sunday afternoon, before the show ends, I come back sans chaperone. The crew is busy taking down the booth, nobody watches me. I adjust the seat, and sit behind the wheel of the baby blue Camatte.

How do I start that thing?

I turn the black knob to ON. Nothing happens.

Nezu and Tsuji left with the other Camatte, the sportier version. I am alone with baby blue. I move the white lever that sits next to the “ON” switch. The car has two gears: One forward, one reverse. I release the hand brake. I tap the accelerator lightly, I hear a faint whirr, and the Camatte starts to roll out of Toyota’s booth. It does so silently, and nobody notices.

Which way is out? Watch the wishbones …

I invite two kids to sit in the back. If I get arrested for grand theft toy car, I might as well go for kidnapping. But then, who would stop an aging foreigner with two lolly-sucking adorable natives in the back? Nobody does. The kids think it’s a hoot.

I hope it doesn’t have Lojack

We roll past people busy taking booths down. Brown cardboard boxes are being filled with toys.

How do I get off the 4th floor?

We are on the fourth floor of Tokyo’s Big Sight. On foot, you have a choice of a very long escalator, or an elevator. But how do I get away by car? Mondai nai! No problem!

Where there is a will, there is a door

The Big Sight is where the bi-annual Tokyo Motor Show takes place, and it will do so again in November. If cars get in, they must get out. I know the place. There is a ramp behind that roll-up door. Let’s roll.

Which way to Roppongi? Does this have GPS?

The Camatte is well-behaved. It accelerates effortlessly, well above walking speed. I don’t dare going faster, my male passenger is not strapped-in.

Explain that heel and toe thing to me, kids, don’t you have Gran Turismo at home?

I forgot the lap timer anyway, so please don’t ask.

Drive it like you stole it

Does the Camatte understeer? Oversteer? No idea. It pretty much goes into the intended direction, I’d say.

Where did the girl go?

It’s all downhill from here. My male passenger decides to buckle-up for safety.

Ah, she’s back. That car is a girl magnet

Only two more floors to go. For a satellite-view of the ramp structure and the Camatte improvised test course, click here.

Let’s go!

Terra firma! One more turn, and we will vanish into Tokyo’s afternoon traffic, in a baby blue baby roadster and with two lolly-popping kids. What’s their names anyway?

Don’t taze me!

Ooops! I am intercepted by Tsuji-san, and a redhead with a diamond in his teeth. Baton-wielding law enforcement is walking up. Hontoni gomen nasai! I am very sorry. This is all a big misunderstanding, and I will explain, given the chance. Please?

There goes my baby blue

Two Camatte are being rolled on a truck. There is a metallic click behind me, and my wrists are touched by a metallic cool. They have free Wifi at the Odaiba jail. I’m sure Verticalscope will bail me out.

Bye!

Or will they?

Fisker is at its last gasp. After burning through $1.4 billion, “the company is out of cash,” writes Reuters, “for months, key investors have been footing the car maker’s day-to-day expenses to keep it alive in diminished form.” Reuters has an in-depth report on what went wrong at Fisker. Reuters also has the one sentence version:

 

“Executives simply couldn’t orchestrate the complex dance that leads from a design sketch to the production and sale of a profitable car.”

Read the Reuters in-depth report by their Detroit reporters Deepa Seetharaman and Paul Lienert.

And if you want to know how Fisker even bungled a rescue by China’s Geely, a deal cut by Joel Ewanick, working as a consultant, then Reuters has another report for you. Read how Ewanick already had convinced Geely Chairman Li Shufu to put $250 million into Fisker, which would also have provided Geely with U.S. production for Volvo and Geely as part of the bargain. Read how wires were crossed with another team scouring China for money.

Should you ever think of putting money into a startup carmaker, read these reports first.

(Note: This story is not for the TL;NR crowd. If you need it in one short sentence: If your car company isn’t working on a kit architecture, kiss them good-bye.)

Call it coincidence, but immediately after TTAC flogged GM for having missed the kit architecture train, and for being chained to the antique platform model well into the next decade and possibly beyond, GM launched operation pushback. It could not be tolerated that the supposedly “New GM” was painted as a company with out-of-touch technology, so Selim Bingol rallied his troops.

The first skirmishes were fought by GM partisans dropped behind the lines of the story. Their comments seemingly were taken from a common sheet of talking points:

(This story intentionally appears on a weekend. This type of partisan usually works 9-5.)

• Standardization bad, because when you screw up, you screw up big.
• Ain’t this simply Badge Engineering again?
• What’s that “kit” stuff anyway, isn’t it just a short word for “platform?”
• If it comes from biassed TTAC, it can’t be believed anyway, so move on, nothing to see. Must be a slow newsday.

Later in the newsday, bigger guns were rolled out. Bloomberg checked its notes taken during a March video interview with GM’s product development chief Mary Barra, and ran a lengthy story , heavy on women’s issues and glass ceilings, but also on platforms other than platform heels:

“That means building cars using “platforms”—industry-speak for the basic structure and parts that can be tweaked and repurposed for multiple vehicles. The idea is to use as few platforms as possible, which speeds up development and lowers costs. VW is pushing to reduce its 15 platforms to five by 2019, with more than 55 percent of its vehicles based on just one of those platforms. VW says this will cut its costs by 20 percent.

In 2010, GM had 30 platforms. Barra says the company is on track to reduce that to fewer than 10 by 2020, which should help reduce development costs by $1 billion a year.”

Platforms? Uh-uh. Talking points at work. Message: GM and VW both reduce their platforms, so what’s the point? The story ignores, intentionally or recklessly, that modular architectures are no platforms.

10 platforms by 2020? Uh-uh. GM’s slides, shown during the Global Business Conference Call on June 12, show a target of 17 platforms by 2018, and I doubt that number will suddenly shrink to 10 platforms only two years later. Trust me, if 10 platforms by 2020 would indeed be the target, it would have been on the slides in big bold letters.

As far as Volkswagen’s allegedly 15 existing platforms are concerned (that count appears to come from Wikipedia), they won’t be replaced by five new platforms. As far as Volkswagen is concerned, platforms are dead. Future Volkswagen Group cars will be built based on four, not five, kits, not platforms. Said Volkswagen last year:

“Within the Group, the MQB developed under the auspices of the Volkswagen brand is supplemented by the Modular Longitudinal System (MLB) from Audi, the Modular Standard System (MSB) with Porsche as the competence center and finally the ‘New Small Family’ – the most compact vehicle model series with the Volkswagen up!, SEAT Mii and ŠKODA Citigo.”

These four kits cover everything from a tiny up! to a big Bentley. There even are whispers of a huge universal kit that builds on the four available now. Porsche cleverly claimed the logical name “Modularer Standardbaukasten” (Modular Standard Kit) as theirs, even if it is used to build the definitely non-standard exotic parts of Volkswagen’s empire, Porsches, Bentleys, possibly Bugattis and Lamborghinis, and the more esoteric nameplates of Volkswagen and Audi.

On the same June 13^th our platform story ran, Bloomberg activated its Tokyo crew to check on Toyota. Toyota currently is a bit buttoned-up when it comes to its modular architecture, but it definitely is in the works. If you ask them, you receive, polite as they are, a “we are still working on it.” With nothing new from Toyota, Bloomberg’s reporters Ma Jie and Masatsugu Horie recalled that they were invited to an eyes-only, no cameras, on-background session in March with Toyota’s Mitsuhisa Kato. Kato is Toyota’s Hackenberg. He is the Chief of all Chief Engineers, he heads Toyota’s R&D Group, and is known to share Hackenberg’s love for modules.

During the March session, when journalists were sufficiently dozing after hearing about organizational changes, 9 meter wide wind tunnels, and the need to produce to local tastes, Toyota had talked about new “car manufacturing technologies.” Tentatively named “Toyota New Global Architecture,” TNGA for short, Toyota did set their system in the same context as Volkswagen’s MQB/MLB, Nissan’s upcoming CMF Common Module Family, and Mazda’s SKYACTIV architecture.

Reminded of what they heard in March, Bloomberg now condensed the off the record session to the message that Toyota is reducing the number of parts. Lede of the story: “Toyota Motor Corp. has decided it no longer needs 50 kinds of airbags to protect drivers’ knees. Ten, the company says, ought to suffice.”

Both Bloomberg stories ran a day later in Automotive News, sadly unchanged. AN could have added a bit more professionalism.

First MQB car: Audi A3

Folks at Toyota feel misunderstood, but they are currently unwilling to lift the kimono. Privately, they say that a reduction of the total parts count is one of the many consequences of a modular approach, but this definitely is not the approach in itself.

On the same 13^th, publicity-wise a dark Thursday for modular systems, even Reuters joined the fray  and warned:

“VW’s modular platforms, allowing for a greater proportion of parts to be shared among different brands and models, help as the company sets out to become the world’s top automaker by 2018.

Yet, they also make VW more vulnerable if one part turns out to be flawed.”

MQB explained

So what are those kits and modular concepts anyway?

And why are they definitely not a platform with a new fancy name?

Simply put, you build on a platform, but you build with a kit.

Any questions? Alright, in that case:

A common platform usually means what the name says: Common underbody, suspensions, steering, and engine placement. On that, a multitude of different cars can be built, or a multitude of similar cars – a platform does not protect from a lack of creativity.

Nissan CMF schematic

A kit architecture on the other hand breaks the car down further into functional building blocks. There is no more common underbody. Different building blocks can be mated together, in theory allowing the creation of a nearly unlimited number of different cars. Nissan’s CMF  does this quite literally. They divide the car into four sections – engine compartment, cockpit, front underbody and rear underbody and a common architecture for electronic components.  Then, they make different modules to account for weight etc. Others probably will have more, and more esoteric modules.

But won’t that stifle creativity and lead to even more appliances? Just like the kit architectures, the English alphabet uses just a small box of modules, called the 26 characters. With them, and a few punctuation marks, anything can be written, from the bible to porn, from a summons to a love letter, from Jalopnik to TTAC.

The most important part of these kits are their interfaces. What sets Lego blocks apart from the wooden blocks of centuries past is a common interconnection standard that allows them to snap together without tools, or effort.

From what I have seen so far of the kit architectures of Volkswagen, Nissan, and Toyota, the common interconnection standard is the key concept of all three. For a fourteen year old kid who grew up with object oriented languages and who thinks in methods and properties, these kit architectures and their difference from platforms of old will come naturally. Old dinosaurs will believe they are “just another computer language,” a mistake Bernstein Research made when they called MQB just another PQ35.

Don’t expect revolutionary, super elegant solutions. Modular systems evolve, sacrificing “pure” solutions on the altar of efficiency, just like C++  or VB.NET evolved from the dark ages of Gosub lore, and just like Smalltalk remained just talk – to stay within the allegory of algorithms.

Object oriented programming has changed the landscape of computer programming, and has led to rapid development of gadgets that pervade our lives. Similarly, the object oriented kit architectures already change how cars are designed, and made. A modern assembly line long has been able to produce many different cars on the same line, necessary for the build-to-order mass customization popular in Japan and Europe. The batch-oriented way in which cars are made and sold in America has not forced this object-oriented thinking.

“Claims that VW can save up to 20% of the cost of producing a car are simply nonsensical,” says the Bernstein report. Funnily enough, the people I talked to at Nissan and Toyota use a similar, even higher number. Both talked of savings potentials “between 20 and 30 percent.” The savings will not just be “a bit on R&D,” and “a bit on supplier relationship management,” and a few other bits as Bernstein thinks.

Modular architectures will bring huge savings in terms of time to market, engineering, testing, regulatory compliance, manufacturing, and even marketing. To go from PQ35 to MQB involves a major change for a Volkswagen plant, it basically has to be rebuilt. Subsequent interruptions during model changes however will be hardly noticeable. Modular approaches allow addressing small niches in a profitable way – you never know whether a fringe craze will turn into a seminal trend.

As a result of the criticism, automakers with modular architectures in the field or in development have become a bit gun shy when it comes to savings, not because they don’t believe that all the work invested will bring nice pay-offs, most likely more because they don’t want to be caught making those forward-looking statements and answer irate stockholders in class action suits.

When I talked to Volkswagen on Friday about the topic, I had not even raised the question of savings when Volkswagen spokesman Petro Zollino already asked me to understand that “as he is responsible for research and development, Dr. Hackenberg will not comment on key financial data.” Nonetheless, Zollino said Volkswagen is “convinced that we have built an excellent foundation for our future with these kits.”

I have seen a lot of hype at Volkswagen, and over the years, I helped to produce a good deal myself. On the job, I developed a pretty good nose for it. My nose says: MQB is no hype.  In German, “MQB” stands for “Modularer Querbaukasten,” which simply means “modular crosswise  construction kit”  – Meccano, or rather Fischertechnik to build cars with a transverse engine. If there is hype, then in the highfalutin English translation of MQB into “Modular Transverse Matrix.”

The kit architectures could influence car making at least as much as object-oriented languages influenced modern computing. Perhaps, the kits could revolutionize car making more than the assembly line. Hey, you never know.

The video above is the closest we’ll ever have to enjoying a World’s Wildest Police Chases segment featuring the Carbon Motors E7. Somewhat lost in the breaking news of March regarding the bankruptcy of Fisker Automotive and Coda was the demise of the nation’s other other startup vehicle manufacturer, the Carbon Motors Corporation. Although Bertel correctly predicted Carbon’s death shortly after they failed to qualify for a DOE loan last year, the company maintained a brave public face and soldiered on defiantly until the end of March. As late as mid March they were announcing the introduction of two new vehicles: an armored truck called the TX 7 and a skateboard shaped drone called the CT 7.  Two weeks later they would be slipping out of their Indiana state taxpayer funded digs  without so much as a “Dear John” letter to the desperate Hoosiers who needed the jobs they’d promised

I’d been watching and waiting for an official announcement that the company had liqudated before poking the body with a stick. That moment finally came on June 7 with a Chapter 7 filing in Indianapolis. The bankruptcy filing shows that Carbon Motors had assets of less than $19,000 and outstanding liabilities of over $21 million. It seems that the dream of a purpose-built police car is dead.

In the post-mortem analysis, there are three questions that I think need to be answered. The first, which this piece will attempt to address is “Was there really ever a market for a dedicated police vehicle?” The second question is “Was Carbon Motors all just a big scam to suck at the government teat?” The third question is “Did the Big 3 learn anything from Carbon Motors that will benefit police and emergency vehicles in the future?’ Those opinion pieces will be forthcoming, but for now I just want to focus on the first question of whether it was ever a good idea.

To narrow the scope of this piece even further, I’m also going to limit my analysis to the fiscal case against Carbon Motors. There were other bad ideas, such as using a BMW powertrain combo that would be difficult to get serviced in wide swaths of flyover America, but I believe what would have really killed the Carbon E7 was it’s projected cost. Yes, I know many of you will laugh when I say that fiscal austerity matters to government, but the truth is that at the state and local level it does. State, county, and local governments buy the vast majority of patrol cars, not the Federal government. Unlike the Feds, they can’t print money.

The E7 concept struck me as the answer to a question that nobody asked. While readers will no doubt recall my documentation of and endless bitching about the shortcomings of the Ford Police Interceptor Sedan and the Dodge Charger, I just didn’t see the need for a dedicated patrol vehicle, particularly for one at the price point that the Carbon E7 was rumored to cost. The price point was a moving target and never officially disclosed by Carbon. Their representatives were always cagey, claiming that their car would come straight from the factory at a price that was “competitive” to a “completely equipped” patrol car.

“Completely equipped” in Carbon’s viewpoint meant a car loaded down with every crime fighting tool and toy ever invented, from the necessary and mundane stuff like lights and a siren to the fantastic yet probably not necessary such as their biological and chemical agent detectors. The first estimate that I can remember hearing was $70,000. A search of articles about the E7 archived through the Wayback Machine gave me estimates ranging from $50K in a 2009 cnet.com article to a statement in 2008 by Carbon Motors officials that the average cost of a fully equipped police car was $80,000.

That’s an insane amount of money for a patrol car. I spoke with the technicians at my department’s fleet services unit and asked how much extra it costs to completely outfit a new cruiser. The reply was “About $10,000.” That sounds like a lot of money, but through the magic of the public bid process, it’s actually not. The taxpayers get a lot of stuff for ten large that really is necessary to turn a Taurus with blacked out trim and a cheap interior into a functional patrol unit. The Carbon Motors’ estimate of $80K per completed unit is way off. It raises the question of whether or not you could even spend that much money on a patrol car if you tried, so I did.

Using the fleet pricing information I got when I wrote my article on the Dodge Charger, I started off with a basic V-8 powered RWD Charger Pursuit for $23,585. I added $1,460 worth of factory options (wheel covers, Bluetooth, a few other odds and ends) for a total price of $25,045 for the basic car delivered from Dodge.

I then used retail pricing from Gall’s and other emergency equipment vendors to add everything else I could dream of to a patrol car. Whenever there was a choice in a piece of equipment, I picked the mid- range/ mid- priced option. I “spent” $2,375 on lights, which included a full light bar as well as a UFO’s worth of extra strobes hidden in the foglights, grille, and other places on the car. A mid- level RADAR unit went for $2,300, while a video recording system costs $3,200. A Panasonic Toughbook, which is one of the most popular choices for use as a Mobile Data Computer, was $3,500.

By the time all was said and done I came up with a total of $14,440 worth of additional pieces and parts. Add that to the base price of the car and you get $39,485 for a complete patrol car, less than half of what Carbon Motors claimed a fully equipped patrol car would cost in 2008.

No, a cash strapped police department (and there isn’t any other kind these days) could have two fully equipped patrol cars for $80,000 and that’s only if the person in charge of purchasing was stupid enough to pay retail for everything and the agency insisted on adding every bell and whistle invented to every car. The vast majority of department’s don’t add half of the stuff I added to my dream cruiser and none of them add everything to every car.

Carbon Motors appeared to operate on the theory that police departments do. One of the innovations that Carbon claimed was the establishment of their “Carbon Council,” which did manage to achieve some acclaim as an early example of crowd sourcing. While Carbon’s website makes the “Carbon Council” sound like a highly screened and elite panel of law enforcement experts selected to give valuable input into the police car of the future, in practice the group appears to have served up the law enforcement equivalent of The Car Built For Homer.

As a low-level cog in the Big Blue Machine of an urban police department I’m always more than happy to grumble about the condition of various pieces of my equipment to my fellow low-level cogs, but I don’t want the high level cogs to spend $80,000 on a single super cruiser. One of the (many) hats I wear is that of union goon Grievance Committee Chairperson for Bluegrass Lodge #4 of the Fraternal Order of Police. Our fleet has been neglected over the last couple of budget cycles and we’ve got some pretty ancient Crown Vics on the road. It appears we’re finally going to be getting a decent number of new cars this coming fiscal year. If the powers that be were going to buy only half the number of cars to replace some of our more ragged out units because they wanted to buy Carbon E7s instead of Ford Police Interceptors, I can assure you that the union would throw a very public fit. Municipal financing is a zero sum game.

The fiscal case for Carbon Motors never made sense, which explains why the company was never able to attract private investment. If a simple union goon with an Associate’s Degree in Police Studies gets that, than obviously people who are paid to make and manage money for other people would get it too. The only entity silly enough to invest in Carbon Motors appears to have been the state of Indiana. Part two will examine how that happened.

Everybody was betting big on electric cars in China. Everybody thought China will be the world’s biggest market for EVs. It was a bluff. At the Shanghai Auto Show in April, the smart money suddenly was on hybrids. Insiders expect that the Chinese government will extend bigger subsidies to buyers of hybrid cars, after the big electric car revolution in China turned out to be a bust. This is good for Japanese carmakers – for some at least.

Honda will delay Chinese production of hybrids for up to three years while it develops local sources for cheaper components, Affordability is critical,” a Honda spokeswoman told Reuters

The wire thinks the sudden retrenchment is because “Toyota Motor Corp said last month it was trying to source key hybrid components in China to make hybrids more affordable. Toyota said it was planning a joint venture in China with a local supplier to produce batteries for gas-electric hybrid cars.”

Reuters confirms again that “Toyota – and other automakers in China, both indigenous Chinese and foreign – gear up to try to kick-start sales of “conventional” hybrid cars in China in anticipation of policy changes aimed at boosting sales of hybrid vehicles.”

Under the old policy, China offers generous subsidies for EVs and plug-ins, but finds few takers. A change of mind towards hybrids is widely expected. Says Reuters:

“A growing number of industry insiders and experts believe Beijing will boost purchase subsidies significantly for conventional hybrids as early as this year.”

The Chinese car market tilts heavily towards cars that don’t use much gas (or “oil,” as the Chinese like to say,) but the Chinese also like a deal. Incentives on hybrids would blow that segment wide open. However, the government won’t incentivize imports from Japan, hence the race for local sources.

After viewing Murilee’s succession of Volvo features, I was tempted to throw my hat in the ring with a very cool continuation on that theme…and I will…but maybe for the entry after this one. In the meantime, I’ve got a bit of a Bodacious kind of theme going myself, and consequently an appointment with destiny that must be addressed immediately…

The eagle-eyed sleuther types might have noticed what was in the background of one of the photos for my last entry “CHEVY II FADED”.

It didn’t, however, appear that any such viewers/readers were “in the house” during the comment-posting period for that entry—as they most assuredly would have commented.

So here it is, in all its oxidized purple glory: an earlier, non-Super Sport Wagon version of last week’s model!

I can’t remember the last time I’d seen a real-life II Wagon in serviceable shape and on the road “in the flesh”—and just across the street from an equally rare SS coupe, no less! There’s a good chance that this was not a complete coincidence; as this more “beach-appropriate” Nova predecessor stands a good chance of having the same owner. In the rather apartment and condo-biased section of Redondo Beach—where these photos were taken, and where garage-type parking is at a premium—it’s not uncommon to see storage-challenged car collector folks getting creative when it comes to parking their vehicles.

If that hunch is true, I’d guess the SS was probably the most recent addition, as it is fairly devoid of the kind of “decalage” seen on the Wagon—which the present owner has likely owned for some time, based on their genres and apparent aging.

Which is really the next logical thing to discuss. Just LOOK at ‘em! I’m reasonably sure I could pick the owner out of a lineup, based on the nature of those “stickies”! I’m thinking old-school male surfer dude, trying to keep the bushy hair—and the dream—alive. I’ll leave speculation on the exact description specifics up to you viewers/ readers, though; as I find this to be a lot more entertaining, from my point of view!

There are a couple of other identifying features worth commenting on, for sure. The rust on the front wheels gives away the fact that this II has had a front disc brake conversion (and he’s running semi-metallic pads). Even on the lighter six-cylinder versions—which I believe this one is equipped with—the original four-wheel drum systems never did cut it; unless high drama during deceleration is what the driver is in to.

Speaking of rust, about the only really noticeable rust on this particular unit seemed to be that of the oxidized brake dust on the front wheels. Very little body rust could be found, otherwise. Pretty amazing for a beach vehicle!

Another unique feature is the missing tailgate glass manual crank. My guess as to the reason for its absence is more about availability than cost; although having not checked the market on such specifics, I may be mistaken in making this statement.

At any rate, these “Two II’s” certainly qualify as a “Certifiably Bodacious Set”, in my book.

Hopefully, in yours, II.

Phil has written features and columns for a number of automotive periodicals and web-based information companies. He has run a successful Auto Repair Business in the past for many years (See “Memoirs of an Independent Repair Shop Owner” on this ttac site). He can be contacted through this very site, or http://www.linkedin.com/

 

My son Harley, raised with a love for everything on wheels.

As I paused in the driveway and waited for the garage door to open, I felt an unexpected presence by my side. Unbeknownst to me, my six year old son had slipped the confines of his booster seat in the rearmost row and made his way forward past his sisters with surprising stealth. Now he stood between my wife and I as we prepared to travel the last few feet of our journey.

My first thought was annoyance. Little kids are supposed to remain in their seats with their hands and arms in the vehicle at all times. Yet for some reason here he was walking around inside our van in bold defiance of everything that he had been taught since we first strapped him into a car seat as a squalling, red faced infant. Didn’t he know most car accidents happen close to home?

Caught off guard I opened my mouth to say something harsh, but before I could an old memory clawed its way to the surface. Reaching around behind my son, I swept him onto my lap, “Take us in.” I told him. My wife gave me a surprised look but said nothing as my son gripped the wheel with eager anticipation. While I handled the pedal work and gave the wheel an occasional assisting nudge, my little guy brought us into the garage with amazing skill. He was absolutely delighted with himself, and in that moment my life came full circle.

The clan Kreutzer circa 1972. I’m the youngest, my father, Harley, is on the right.

Almost 40 years earlier, at around the same age, I too had been between my mother and father in the front seat when I also tested the bounds of good sense in the last few feet of a family journey when I innocently asked if I could drive. My own father, not one to brook any back-talk from any of his 5 kids looked at me hard, but instead of a quick rebuke responded with the unexpected. Setting me in his lap, he let me guide the our car, an Oldsmobile Dynamic 88, into our garage.

It was a moment for the ages. I can still feel the Oldsmobile’s thin plastic wheel in my hands, the back side scalloped to fit my fingers and the vibration from the mighty V8 under the hood, as we slipped smoothly into the garage. The experience changed my life and from that day forward, no matter how far we traveled, those last few feet were always spent on my father’s lap the two of us bonding over the joy of driving.

As car enthusiasts, we’ve all heard talk about how the new generation of kids lack a real interest in our hobby. We’ve all read about hot the cell phone and social networks have usurped the role of the car in the transition to adulthood, too, but I see other reasons for this generation’s attitude towards cars. Belted in the back seat with a DVD player to occupy their time, most little kids view the car as a sort of mobile living room. Prohibited by law from the front seat until they become “tweens,” kids don’t get the opportunity to see what is happening up front and, as a result, they never fantasize about what it must be like to slide over one spot and actually sit behind the wheel. Without the fantasy, the seed doesn’t take root.

My daughter Maiko in the big seat.

Not on my watch. I love everything about cars and, much to my wife’s dismay, I have been programming all three of my children to be motor heads from the day they were born. Due to my efforts, my son Harley wants to be a race car driver and my oldest daughter, Maiko, wants to be a doctor-princess.

I won’t give up on her though. I want all my kids to feel same the joy I get from driving and, as much as I hate little footprints all over my nice leather seats, I let my children play in my car whenever I am cleaning it. I let them crawl behind the wheel, roll down the windows, open the sunroof and crank up the tunes. I let them sit in the big chair with the wheel in their hands and the gearshift under their right hand and I let them imagine what it must be like to be in control. Then I tell them that it isn’t a fantasy, it’s a preview. It’s only a matter of time until the seed takes root.

The circle complete, my son Harley and I pose for a picture with the last Oldsmobile my father, also Harley, ever bought. A 1984 Cutlass Supreme.

Thomas Kreutzer currently lives in Buffalo, New York with his wife and three children but has spent most of his adult life overseas. He has lived in Japan for 9 years, Jamaica for 2 and spent almost 5 years as a US Merchant Mariner serving primarily in the Pacific. A long time auto and motorcycle enthusiast he has pursued his hobbies whenever possible. He writes for any car website that will have him and enjoys public speaking. According to his wife, his favorite subject is himself.

So I was looking for a photograph or diagram of the “friction drive“, an early continuously variable transmission used in the 1906 Orient Buckboard made by Waltham Mfg and I came across this period advertisement, selling an accessory child’s seat for the Buckboard. The Buckboard was exactly that, a buckboard horse cart with a one cylinder gasoline engine. Like many early runabouts the Orient Buckboard was a two-seater. There was no room for the rest of the family. Some companies, like Ford, offered a third “mother in law” seat out back, but Waltham decided to go in the other direction.

The detachable child’s seat for the Orient Buckboard cost an additional $25, a not insignificant sum in light of the fact that the cheapest version of the Buckboard was $375 (without headlamps and a folding roof), but as the ad,  from the trade journal Motor Age and aimed at car agencies (i.e. dealers) pointed out, it made the rather primitive motor car a bit more marketable.

“Mother-in-law” seat on a Model T runabout, Piquette Ave Model T Factory

The child’s seat mounted in the front of the Buckboard got me thinking. I babysit my year old grandson once a week. Under state law here in Michigan, I’m not even allowed to put his car seat in the front passenger compartment of the car, let alone drive around with him exposed on the hood of the car. Never mind the fact that sitting in his rear-facing car seat he wouldn’t be endangered by an activated airbag in the event of an accident, the law is the law.

Sometimes I wonder how those of us who are here today got here without the safety nannies telling our parents how to keep their kids alive long enough to reach adulthood. Heck, I would never have graduated from grade school because some days in the carpool there were 10 kids in a six passenger sedan. “There’s a policeman. Hide under the dashboard!” Yes, I made my kids wear bicycle helmets and nobody can ride in a car that I’m driving without being belted in but like I said, sometimes I wonder how we made it here without the do-gooders.

Parents have always been concerned about safety. I’m sure the parents 109 years ago that opted for that optional child’s seat on their Orient Buckboard figured that was safer than holding the kid in Mom’s lap. At the Henry Ford Museum’s Driving America exhibit, there’s a display about auto safety, including a selection of car seats that date back to the 1950s or earlier. From our perspective some of them are clearly death traps. The landmark General Motors Infant Love Seat seat that I used for my two oldest kids (who now have kids of their own) would probably not meet the government safety standards of today.

Discuss amongst yourselves.

Ronnie Schreiber edits Cars In Depth, a realistic perspective on cars & car culture and the original 3D car site. If you found this post worthwhile, you can get a parallax view at Cars In Depth. If the 3D thing freaks you out, don’t worry, all the photo and video players in use at the site have mono options. Thanks for reading – RJS

Diego Rivera mural, Detroit Institute of Arts

I was at the Eleanor and Edsel Ford estate today for the media preview for the Eyes On Design car show coming up on Father’s Day this Sunday. The grounds of the Ford home are where the show is held every year – in honor of Edsel’s seminal role in the history of automotive styling. Eyes On Design is a unique car show. The cars are concours level (many Eyes On Design cars get shown at the Concours of America (formerly Meadow Brook)) but they’re not judged on build quality or meticulous authenticity. The show is pretty much run by car designers and the cars are judged on their design, not whether or not the air cleaner is factory or aftermarket. After the press event I walked around the 87 acre site, checking out the outside of the home and the other buildings, which were (no surprise here) Albert Kahn designs. Henry Ford’s greatest asset was his sheer indomitable nature. His second greatest talent was surrounding himself with talented people like Kahn.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Ford surrounded himself with people who not only had great talent but had the ability to get Henry to agree with them – most likely by getting him to think it was his idea in the first place. James Couzens, Horace Rackham, Charlie Sorensen, Peter Martin, Eugene Farkas, Joe Galamb and Walter Flanders were arguably as instrumental in the success of FoMoCo as Henry was. Henry was also lucky with his son. Edsel was a very capable business manager as well as a pretty refined person – certainly compared to his farmboy father.

Clara and Edsel Ford c. 1997

There is one of those Detroit stories, thought by some to be apocryphal, but documented in Richard Bak’s Henry and Edsel, about a prototype Model T that was built at Edsel’s direction fairly late in the T’s production run, in 1924. The Dodge brothers had decided to start selling their own cars in 1914 rather than continue supplying Ford with components and rolling chassis because they were good engineers and wanted to build modern cars. If technology and style had outstripped the Model T by 1914, imagine how obsolete it was a decade later.

Edsel was a good businessman and knew how much market share Ford Motor Co. had lost to Chevrolet and Dodge. Henry, rich as Croesus, didn’t care, he thought the Model T was the perfect car, forever.

Click here to view the embedded video.

While Henry was in Europe, Edsel had a revised Model T prototype built to try out his ideas. The prototype was sitting in a Ford garage at the Highland Park plant when Henry happened upon it after his return from the continent. It was less boxy than a standard Model T and it was painted bright red. Though the Model T was available in different colors early on, by 1924, “any color you want as long as it’s black” was part of Ford’s productivity model so I’m sure the red car was a shock to Henry.

Henry and Edsel in a Ford Model F, 1905

According to the account of George Brown, the FoMoCo purchasing agent who had worked on the project for Edsel, Ford asked him, “What’s over there?”

“Well, Mr. Ford, that’s the new car.”

“Ford car?”

“Yes, sir.”

“He walked around the car three or four times, looking at it very closely. Finally, he got to the left side of the car, and he gets hold of the door, and BANG! One jerk, and he had it off the hinges! He ripped the door right off! God, how the man done it, I don’t know! He jumped in, and BANG! goes the other door! BANG! goes the windshield! He jumped over the back sat and started pounding on the top. He wrecked the car as much as he could.”

A 13 year old Edsel Ford takes some friends sledding in a Ford Model N

In time, Edsel would bring Bob Gregorie to Ford to start a styling department at the Dearborn automaker. Unlike his father, Edsel had an art patron’s eye and understood how fashions and tastes change.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Edsel and Eleanor’s home shows that they had great taste. It’s a magnificent property and Eleanor lived there until her death in 1976. When Edsel died in 1943, he had been running the company. Henry was, of course, in charge, but he wasn’t involved on a day to day basis, that was Edsel’s job.

Henry and Clara Ford leaving Edsel Ford’s funeral, 1943

When Edsel died, Henry reasserted operational control of FoMoCo, by then one of the major suppliers to the U.S. and British war efforts in WWII. There were rumors that Henry wanted to put the Model T back into production. The U.S. government could not afford for the company making Jeeps and B-24s to be run by a man who was always a bit of a crackpot but now was also senile.

Edsel had some training as an artist. Here’s a charcoal sketch he did as a teenager.

Henry was a megalomaniac who had lost control of the Henry Ford Company in 1902 to his financial backers (that brought in Henry Leland who then talked them into using the assets to start Cadillac). He hated the idea of partners and once he could afford it after the huge success of the Model T, he paid investors like Rackham and the Dodges (who had taken stock in lieu of payment in the early days) $12.5 million for every $5,000 they had invested in FoMoCo. Couzens, who was FoMoCo’s business manager and a very early investor, got over $29 million for a $2,500 investment.

Those prices were paid after Henry first tried depressing the value of their Ford stock by publicly announcing that he was going to start a new car company that would compete with Ford Motor Company. Once he controlled 100% of Ford stock, Henry kept 49% for himself, gave Edsel a minority stake at 48%, and gave Clara, Mrs. Henry Ford, the remaining 3% of the stock.

Another sketch of Edsel Ford’s, this one presages his role in automotive styling

After Edsel died, the U.S. Army discharged Henry Ford II from officer’s training school so he could return to Dearborn and run the company. Henry balked until Eleanor and Clara explained that they owned 51% of Ford Motor Company stock and that if he didn’t turn over operational control of the company to his grandson, they would sell their shares. Clara, who had tolerated Henry taking Evangeline Dahlinger as a mistress, had her limits.

One of a series of custom roadsters Edsel had built for his personal use. C. 1911

I couldn’t help but wonder, in an alternate history sense, how different things would have been if it was Henry who died in middle age instead of Edsel. Edsel was 49 when he died of stomach cancer – the family felt it was brought on by the ulcers he got from his father’s regular humiliations (Henry didn’t want Edsel to be the soft son of a rich man, so he’d berate him in front of others).

Edsel and Eleanor Ford. Edsel liked fast boats as well as fast cars. He’d sometimes commute to Dearborn via the Detroit River.

Henry Ford would have been 49 in 1912. He was already a very rich man as the Model T was a huge success (actually, he was already rich before the Model T, since unlike his first two automotive ventures, Ford Motor Company had thrived). What would Ford Motor Company and automotive history had been like if Edsel had taken over in 1912?

Ronnie Schreiber edits Cars In Depth, a realistic perspective on cars & car culture and the original 3D car site. If you found this post worthwhile, you can get a parallax view at Cars In Depth. If the 3D thing freaks you out, don’t worry, all the photo and video players in use at the site have mono options. Thanks for reading – RJS

I still remember them. Tall and clear eyed, their square jaws clenched tightly as a sign of their strict discipline and inherent resolve, they dressed in perfectly pressed brown shirts and marched in straight, ordered ranks before the camera. For them there was only duty and their duty was their honor. Nothing would sway them from their purpose. As they marched they sang, and their song was a call to action. “We’re the Minit Lube Minutemen, trained to do the job and do it right.” God help us, we loved them for it.

They are gone now – so gone that not even their commercials exist anymore. Other companies purchased their shops and changed their names, but they helped start it all and, like some other things started by some resolute men in pressed brown shirts, the reality ended up being somewhat different than the idealized image that appeared on film. It was hot, sweaty and more than a little greasy. Still, I was proud to be among them, selected to be a leader and made a “Management Trainee” by the powers that be, and I was determined to lead from the front. Despite the fact that I had been hired primarily because of my sales experience, something that should have had me close to the register, working with customers and encouraging them to buy add-on services like air filters and optional fluid changes, I knew that as a leader I must earn their respect and so I too did my time in the trenches.

Anyone who has ever taken their car to a Quick Lube has a pretty good idea of what happens. Part of that is by design, the bays are open and the waiting areas are often simple alcoves where a customer can enjoy a cup of coffee while they watch the show. The techs call out their every movement to one another, partially because safety (no one wants to be under a car when oil gets spilled) and partially because the more activity and noise the generate the more it seems like something important is going on. It gives the customer confidence in the work being done and to also allows them to feel that they are getting value for their money. And, like it is for every business that sells a service, money is what this is really all about.

The experience always begins outside of the shop when the customer pulls up and a customer service representative rushes out to speak to them about the kind of service they want. The truth is many customers don’t really know what they want, so this person’s job is simply to help them along but suggesting products or services here is a part of the game and often a simple phrase like, “Would you like synthetic oil?” can add real dollars to the company’s bottom line.

Once the customer signs the consent form, the car goes into the bay and over the pit where the action begins in earnest. Since most cars look a lot alike from the bottom, the customer service rep will tell the pit man the type and year of the car as well as the kind of service requested. The pit man always repeats this back in a loud voice, looks-up and stages the oil filter and begins to drain the oil. While the oil is draining, he will move back along the car, checking the various gear boxes he has access to and putting small samples of their oils on a plate that he will eventually pass to the customer service rep. If needed, he will lube the chassis and once the oil has fully drained he will change the filter, being careful to wipe the engine plate to ensure the gasket comes off with the old filter and re-install the drain plug.

The pit man’s job It is a simple job, really, but it is also one of the most important. It is hot, dirty and more than a little dangerous working around extremely hot exhaust parts. Also, out of sight of the supervisor, the pit man is the most independently working guy in the shop, his attention to detail is critical and any mistakes he make can get really expensive really quickly. Personally, I liked this job best, but bouncing from car to car kept me busy and the truth is that my mechanical skills were not as good as my selling skills. The manager knew this and left me down there long enough to get the hang of it, but pulled me up on top where I could help make the shop money.

Up on top the hood man will begin by checking the automatic transmission fluid before the driver shuts off the engine. Then he will then move around the car, checking lights asking for signals to be switched on and off etc and finally make a big show of working under the engine. For the most part, with the exception of windshield washer fluid, only tiny amounts of any fluid are actually required if the car doesn’t have some type of real mechanical problem. The hood man will also pull the air filter and, unless it is brand new, will pass it to the customer service rep who, by this time, has also gathered the sample plate from the pit man.

A smart customer service rep will pull a new air filter and have samples of clean fluids with him when he approaches a customer. He will find them in the waiting room and explain what the condition of the filter and fluids are and, hopefully, up-sell the customer on an additional part or service and add even more to the company’s bottom line. My own approach here, total honesty, actually worked well. There are always several customers waiting in the room and they are all watching as you make your sales pitch. If you tell a customer that his obviously clean looking fluids look fine, you have just made a dozen friends. When you come back later and tell others that their dirty fluids are “border line” or worse, you will get their buy-in almost every time.

Back out at the car, the customer service rep will tell the service techs what additional services, if any, are required and the service will start to approach completion. The hood man will verify verbally with the pit man that the oil plug is in and that it is OK to add oil. That completed, he will verify the engine oil is in and that it is OK to start the car. While he does so, the pit man will stand by to make sure there are no leaks on the bottom side. That done, the hood man will shut off the engine and go to the front of the car where he will physically get down on his knees and watch while the pit man verifies that every drain plug is tight with a pull of his wrench. The service is completed, the hood goes down and the customer settles up.

For the most part the technicians who work at Quick Lubes are young people at the beginning of their working lives. Most are not professional mechanics, but everyone I worked with went through a fairly rigorous in-house training program and all were skilled at what they did. Each of us, of course, had varying degrees of experience and ability but for the most part the way the shop was run, with a constant communication between the techs and actual cross checks prior to the completion of a car’s service ensured that the work was done to an acceptable standard.

It was the 80s and this was the kind of thing we worked on.

I won’t lie and say we never had a problem. Sometimes things got broken under the hood and our company paid to have them fixed. One time a drain plug on a differential wasn’t tightened sufficiently and our company replaced it and agreed to handle any problems when the customer brought it to our attention. The vast majority of our customers, however, came in, received their service without any problems and went on happily with their lives. That’s a good thing.

Looking back today I can see that the work we were doing was not terribly difficult and despite the searing pain of burned hands and wrists, the constant grit and grime under our fingernails, our oil stained uniforms and the constant smell of Dexron that wafted about us, we had an enjoyable job. Today when I roll into a Quick Lube I spend as much time watching the people as I do watching their performance and for the most part they are like I was back then, young, hardworking people who are trying to get ahead. I hope they go on to as much success in life as I have.

Thomas Kreutzer currently lives in Buffalo, New York with his wife and three children but has spent most of his adult life overseas. He has lived in Japan for 9 years, Jamaica for 2 and spent almost 5 years as a US Merchant Mariner serving primarily in the Pacific. A long time auto and motorcycle enthusiast he has pursued his hobbies whenever possible. He writes for any car website that will have him and enjoys public speaking. According to his wife, his favorite subject is himself.

Cooper tires is becoming another victim of President Obama’s much too cozy relationship with the union machine. Cooper Tires was bought by an Indian company.

After President Obama sent a thank you to the Steelworkers Union and slapped an absolutely brain-dead punitive tariff of tires coming from China, a few things happened:

• Imports of low-cost tires did not stop. They came from other countries, at tariffs even lower than the old ones on Chinese tires.
• Not a single new job was created in America, but more than a few jobs at tire importers were destroyed.
• Americans paid more for tires.
• A trade war erupted. Retaliatory tariffs did hurt exports of big displacement cars made by Chrysler, Ford and General Motors.
• American companies that had tire production in China were hurt, most of all Cooper tires.

Today, “Indian tire manufacturer Apollo Tyres Ltd said it would buy Cooper Tire & Rubber Co for about $2.5 billion,” Reuters writes.

Currently, Apollo does not operate in the United States. “The acquisition of Cooper, the world’s 11th biggest tire company by sales, will give Apollo access to the U.S. market for replacement tires for cars and light and medium trucks,” Reuters writes.

Cheap Chinese tires are being replaced by cheap Indian tires. And another American company is being outsourced.

In a bout of severe wishful thinking,  Daimler CEO Dieter Zetsche told Reuters  that “Daimler does not expect the current spat between the European Union and China will escalate to include cars,”

Last week, news from China said  the Middle Kingdom could slap punitive tariffs on luxury cars imported from the EU, after the  EU slapped punitive tariffs on solar panels imported from China.

Today, China specialist Michael Dunne writes in the Wall Street Journal:

“China, already angry about new EU tariffs on solar panels, will no doubt counter punch with an investigation into Europe’s lucrative luxury car exports to China.”

The fifth installment in the “Fast and Furious” franchise was a nearly perfect wrap-up for the series; deeply satisfying, thoroughly enjoyable, visually stunning. Your humble author gave it the equivalent of two thumbs up and recommended it without reservation. Most importantly, I noted that the central themes — fatherhood, family, young men searching for role models — were enduring enough to carry all the twenty-ton-safe gingerbread. These themes, which have underpinned three of the five movies we’ve seen so far, differentiate the series from, say, Redline. They’re important.

There was no way Fast and Furious 6 was going to measure up to its predecessor. Not only would that violate the odd-numbered-movies-rock-even-numbered-movies-suck pattern established up to this point, the way Fast Five had ended didn’t leave much room in the plot for those enduring themes mentioned above. It’s a relief to see, therefore, that instead of trying to be a better movie, it settles for being different. And in the course of being different, the franchise sets a strong course for what it was always going to become, if it could stay alive long enough: fantasy.

Spoilers, both contextual and carbon fiber, ahead.

In retrospect, it’s rather amazing to see the escalation in stakes from the very first movie to this one. Twelve years ago, the problem faced by undercover cop Brian O’Conner was the possibility that somebody might get shot by a truck driver. The death of Han in “Tokyo Drift” marked a new level of seriousness in the films, after which the bodies were permitted to hit the floor without reservation. (Or did you think all those “corrupt” cops in Five lived through their accidents?)

Now, however, we’ve progressed all the way up to nuclear weapons. That’s right, the bad guy in this one (played with a complete lack of energy or interest by Luke Evans) is trying to build an EMP bomb that could “cripple an entire country”. To defeat him, The Rock, er, Hobbs, has to reassemble Dominic Toretto’s “team” and face him on the streets of various European countries.

If “Fast Five” was a sort of “Ocean’s Eleven” ripoff, this is a James Bond film in all but name. The villain has the same omnipotence as Javier Bardem’s character in “Skyfall”, orchestrating horribly complex events for the sole purpose of double-and-triple-crossing our heroes. Some of the scenes are outright nods of the head to previous Bond films, including the final action sequence which owes everything, including an impossibly long runway, to the second-to-last scene of “The Living Daylights”. Hell, there’s even a Polish version of Richard Kiel’s “Jaws”, just to make sure that Hobbs has the chance to play the underdog in a physical confrontation.

The resulting plot is so frothily inconsequential it never even tries to distract us from the real story, which is the romance between Toretto and a conveniently amnesia-stricken Letty. If I have any genuine problem with this movie, it’s with the decision to drain the tension out of it by making Letty unable to remember her past. A plot where Letty knowingly abandons Dom to participate in a crime syndicate would have had real teeth. Instead, we have a setup for a reconciliation between the two that is both overly facile and completely ridiculous. Why would Toretto give up the (it must be said, considerably better-looking) Brazilian ex-cop who loves him to pursue someone who doesn’t even know his name? The brilliance of the first and (particularly) third movies was due in large part to their refusal to paper over issues like that. When Letty and Toretto have their big meeting, it’s spoiled by a “matching scars” speech that, again, is far too easy to be real.

The rest of the movie unfolds as you’d expect. There are fast cars, impossible stunts, feats of physical strength by Toretto and Hobbs. Brian O’Conner proves, as always, to be the best fighter of the group, winning a confrontation in prison with four buffed-out thugs and reliably knocking out various paramilitary types. The good guys win, with one casualty to make sure that the events of “Tokyo Nights” will happen after all. Finally, there’s a post-credits sequence to warp the time and event sequence of that aforementioned third film even further and introduce the next bad guy.

Every single plot point in the movie is suspect and the suspension of disbelief required to enjoy the action sequences verges on Baja-truck strength but it’s not really important because the series now explicitly exists in the fantasy universe. The protagonists exhibit superhuman strength, endurance, and perception. The bad guys are too powerful to be real. Road & Track’s Alex Nunez compared the series in a comment to “the Marvel Universe” and that’s spot on. This is a place where runways are twenty-eight miles long and people repeatedly fall thirty feel on concrete or metal without a scratch. Driving maneuvers of impossible precision are commonplace. Every victim of the mayhem is guilty or complicit in some way. There is no city in the globe that does not play host to a nightly street-racing festival chock-full of gorgeous women and gleaming tuner cars. Guns, computer systems, and complicated Rube Goldberg hydraulic mechanisms are available at a moment’s notice. Nobody is ever seen working out, performing any automotive maintenance beyond tightening a bolt, or reading an instruction manual. It’s comic-book fantasy, plain and simple, right down to the expected fanservice we get from every female character.

As fantasy, “Six” succeeds beyond question. It’s worth watching and it’s even a kind of a date movie if your date is at all inclined towards action films. The hope now is that the seventh movie in the series will be a little grittier, a little more real. We’ve now caught up to the present day, which means that Anyone Can Die, but if you want that sort of thing, I’d recommend you watch “Game Of Thrones”. The F&F series is now about fantasy. Luckily, it continues to be fantastic.

Apple just announced a bunch of new stuff today as part of their annual developers conference. Most TTAC readers don’t really care that iOS7 is ditching the old skeuomorphic look (fake brushed metal, fake leather, etc.) for a flat design that is damn near identical to what Google’s Android and Microsoft’s Windows 8 have been doing. However, they’ll care about this.

Apple has announced “iOS in the Car” (TheVerge has a summary; see also Cnet, Engadget, Gizmodo). Apple didn’t say much, beyond a a few pretty screenshots and a list of car manufacturers who will support this in 2014. We don’t know if this will be an Apple-proprietary protocol or if it will be an open standard that Android and other phones can use. Regardless, we can expect non-Apple phones to be hacked in one way or another to work with this, assuming they’re willing to do battle with Apple’s patent portfolio.

This is a big deal. For the first time, we have car manufacturers conceding a significant part of the driver’s user experience to a device or company outside of their control. For example, if you buy the most alpha nerd car available today, a Tesla Model S with its monstrous 17″ touch screen, you have well-integrated Tesla-skinned Slacker and TuneIn Internet radio, complete with a secondary display of the current song next to your speedometer. Would you prefer Pandora or Google Music? Sorry, you’ll have to stream that through your phone, which won’t be anywhere near the same slick experience. In Apple’s new world order, your car is an accessory to your phone, which is exactly the way it should be. Many people replace their phones every time their two year contract comes up for renewal and some replace it even more often. Conversely, most any modern car should handily last ten years or more with the right tender loving care. You can go through five generations of phones in the same time that you go through a single car. Your phone keeps getting better and your car (generally speaking) doesn’t. Furthermore, as I go from my personal car to a rental car to whatever else (a taxi?), I get to take “my” navigation system and “my” music along for the ride, rather than learning my way around yet another car manufacturer’s dial that spins, clicks, slides, and otherwise goes out of its way to annoy the driver.

I’d previously been skeptical that something like this would ever come to pass. Why would a car manufacturer willingly allow themselves to be commoditized like this? Why would they willingly give up the chance to upsell their customers on monthly service charges? In the new world order, a third-party app installed on your phone could use the built-in accelerometer and GPS to figure out that you decelerated in a big hurry and probably had an accident, just like GM OnStar and other such manufacturer-provided subscription services do. Would you rather have that service attached to your car or to your phone? I’d vote for the phone, since it would be with me regardless of what car I happened to be in.

If I were king for a day, I’d not only push for the phone/car video interface to be standardized, but I’d also push for the car to provide specific sensors and data to the phone. For example, the car might feed your phone telemetry data (wheel angle, speedometer, tachometer, etc.), which can aid a navigation system that temporarily looses contact with the GPS satellites, or give you great feedback on your hot track laps. They might even consider providing deeper manufacturer-specific hooks to allow for over-the-air software updates. At that point, some interesting security threats rear their ugly heads, since the phone needs to be treated as a potentially hostile component within the otherwise-friendly world of the in-car network. Still, color me excited. I’ve wanted this for a long time.

That sound you’ve been hearing for nearly two decades is the weeping and gnashing of teeth roused by the Chevrolet Beretta’s demise. Oh, Ford Probe, we hardly knew ye. Whither the Dodge Daytona? Let’s look at the continuing decline of an empire, formerly ruled by the American Muscle Car.

At Chevrolet, SS is not the oft-used badge that AMG is at Mercedes-Benz. Ford’s ST and SVT branding aren’t used to form an overwhelming BMW M-like presence. You can buy big V8-engined Chryslers, but many of Chrysler’s higher-volume products – 200, Avenger, Dart, Journey, Wrangler – go without sporting iterations. Detroit’s three automakers don’t even sell coupe versions of their mainstream sedans these days.

There is plenty of sporting heritage present in GM, Ford, and Chrysler showrooms, of course. Iconic nameplates sell at a level normally associated with moderately successful midsize cars. And even in 2013, a year in which muscle car sales have fallen, the Chevrolet Camaro and Ford Mustang are America’s 29th and 30th-best-selling passenger cars, ahead of the Ford Taurus, Subaru Impreza, and Buick LaCrosse.

Although we’re also showing results for two higher-end cars, two veritable sports cars, a more accurate reflection of the muscle car marketplace is made more apparent when you leave out the Corvette and Viper. Sales of America’s muscle car trio are down 4.6% through five months. May sales of the Camaro, Challenger, and Mustang fell 8.3% in the United States.

Those declines haven’t occurred because of the lowest-volume member of the group. Dodge Challenger volume is up 28% this year, rising 15% in May. Its market share in the three-car category grew to 24.9% in May, up from 19.8% a year ago.

That market share was obviously stolen from the Camaro and Mustang, whether there are any prospective Challenger buyers who would have actually chosen the Chevrolet or Ford. It’s bit of a Sox or Cubs; Manchester United or Manchester City world.

Of the 22,263 American muscle cars sold in May, 35.6% were Camaros, down from 37.2% in May 2012. The Mustang’s share slid from 43% in May 2012 to 39.5% in May 2013. Year-to-date, the Camaro and Mustang have lost nearly four and three percentage points worth of market share, respectively.

In a market which enjoyed an 8% year-over-year increase in May, the fact that the Camaro and Mustang could be struggling to match last year’s pace shouldn’t come as a surprise. Whether you’re selling a German roadster, a driftable Japanese sports car, or an outrageously powerful Detroit pony car, the number of customers is likely to shrink as the launch date becomes a distant memory.

Dodge Challenger sales figures must then be the exception that proves the rule.

Independent analyst Timothy Cain is the founder and editor of GoodCarBadCar.net. His look at the important segments will be a permanent fixture at TTAC, along with a  look at the market up North.  

What do People’s Daily, the voice of China’s Communist Party, and Jalopnik have in common? More than you would imagine. Just as a for instance, both are masters of the fine art of pecksniffian outrage. Both are experts when it comes to condemning loose morals, as long as the condemnation can be illustrated with enough graphic, click-generating pictures that show said loose morals in practice. Sanctimonious click-whoring knows no boundaries, and it transcends ideologies: Gawker and CCCP, unite!

A few days ago, Peoples Daily ran an 11 high resolution picture gallery, ostensibly condemning the fact that

“in addition to taking off clothes, some commercial promotions have chosen a more disgusting way to attract public attention. From sexy dress to body painting, public’s moral bottom line has been challenged again and again.”

(Jalopnik, aware of its TL;NR clientele, would have said it with fewer words, and with at least as many pictures.)

People’s Daily’s pictures of what challenges China’s morals are old standbys. A supercar bikini carwash. A busty Toyota booth professional at a car show in Wuhan. A naked Chinese girl in a fish tank. If we would have shown the latter on TTAC, there would have been outcries of sexism and racism. No thanks, we won’t show it, we rather give the salacious traffic to People’s Daily. In any case, our high journalistic standards would forbid reporting news that is 2 years old. That’s how old the fish tank picture is.

The other pictures are likewise ancient. The disgusting Chinese bikini supercarwash had been featured in TTAC a year ago. The rare shot of a busty Chinese booth professional is similarly antique. Paparazzi dispatched to this year’s Shanghai Auto Show came back empty handed. The show was very much toned down.

That won’t dissuade People’s Daily from showing ample T&A, along with righteous indignancy.

(Disclosure: All outgoing clicks, especially those to People’s Daily, are logged and recorded, and most likely are known to the NSA before we know it.)  

Considering the recent entries in my “Memoirs of an Independent Repair Shop Owner”, it’s looking like I’m going to have to “go with the flow” and dig up another memory of my early automotive history for this entry in “Bodacious Beaters”.

This time the subject is the very first car I ever owned—and it was one of these: a 1966 Chevy II Super Sport with 283 cubic inches of Bowtie Smallblock under the hood, and the venerable two-speed aluminum Powerglide under the SS console shifter!

At the time, it was about the coolest automobile I could afford. A bit stodgy looking, in comparison to the popular “Pony Cars” of the day (read that: Mustang and Camaro); but an SS coupe nonetheless, sporting bucket seats, console shifter, and a real-live V-8 engine! Yeah, those features are fairly commonplace in today’s market, but back then they were something special. And taking into account the two cars I had trained in, and had previously had to come up with a decent excuse to borrow (I’m still amazed my Parents actually let THAT happen)—a late-50’s Ford Sedan with inline six and “three-on-the-tree” shifter, and a mid-sixties Ford Country Sedan S/W with a small V-8, column-shift automatic, and manual steering(!)—the SS was fairly a quantum leap in “special”!

Yes, it wasn’t particularly quick or fast—that Powerglide definitely not helping the cause in either department—and it didn’t handle anything like a sporting-type of car—although the lame “mono leaf” rear springs did provide a rather “jouncy” and otherwise unbalanced ride—but I just contented myself to crank up the in-dash stereo and cruise it. When I moved back East to NYC, my Parents—and subsequently my Sister—inherited it. She enjoyed it for sometime, cruising around the family’s new North Carolina digs, selling it when it needed more repairs than she cared to have performed. Got some good dough for it, even for back then in the ‘80’s.

So much for the memories—now to consider the example featured here in the photos: what appears to be also a 1966 Chevy II SS.

As you’ve probably noticed, I’m especially attracted to exterior finishes that exude “character’. This one’s got that stuff “in spades”! Given the fact that the metal—under what’s left of what has to be at least a few paint jobs—is really not rusty beyond what is seen on the surface, this one has had to have spent a great deal of time in a very dry, very sunny area—such as the high Mojave desert or a similar place. I have a feeling the beautiful resulting patina will not continue for long in its new Los Angeles Beach City residence. Glad I caught it when I did—difficult lighting and all.

I don’t know if it’s still got the original 283 (the front quarter flag badging indicating V-8 power, but not the 327, which sported additional displacement clarification), but it has most of the other identifying SS trim and equipment, as far as I can tell. Yeah, the seats have been upholstered in non-original vinyl, but that left rear quarter paint fade around the recently gone-missing badging makes up for that, nicely!

On this one, I might be tempted to do an interior, driveline, and chassis resto—but I’d leave the exterior finish alone. It took a lot of time and previous effort to get a Bodacious look like that, for sure!

Phil has written features and columns for a number of automotive periodicals and web-based information companies. He has run a successful Auto Repair Business in the past for many years (See “Memoirs of an Independent Repair Shop Owner” on this ttac site). He can be contacted through this very site, or http://www.linkedin.com/