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Monday, September 12, 2011
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Bayerische Wemakeredundant Moterenwerke
I've begun, check that, have for some time, taken issue with the creative direction of a widely respected (and one of my favorite (yes, I just admitted a bias... this is a blog, not a factual, fact stricken, facty news reporting organization)) automaker. In the past I have praised vehemently the strategic direction of the big wigs at BMW with regards to their environmental initiatives, i.e. clean diesel, hydrogen, etc. But I believe a bit of sanity has been lost when looking to the current model line-up. It seems to me BMW has a talent for making cars in what I like to call, "half classes."
Allow me to explain, most automakers like to build a single model for a single model class, for example Ford makes the Fiesta for the compact-hatch class, Taurus for the large sedan class, F-150 for the 1/2 ton truck class, etc. This basic theory allows brands to compete with each other for one particular type of consumer, instead of competing with itself for that same consumer. The men with expensive MBA's in pinstripes and windsor knots over at BMW have decided that they want to make cars that compete with their own cars. Let me say that again, because I know for most individuals of a relatively sane mind, you may have had a mini-stroke whilst reading that sentence... they make a product, that competes DIRECTLY with another one of their own products.
BMW's model line stacks up like this 1 (series), 3, 5, 6, 7, Z, X, and M. When you take a step back and look at it from a distance of at least 6 to 7 feet, this looks like a very solid line up - we have all the staples, subcompact, compact, midsize, playboy coupe, boat, sporty coupe/convertible, (wannabe) SUV, and chuck norris.
However, all is not dandy for the Müllers's. Let me begin my grand inspection with the 1-series vs 3-series love affair. For anyone who doesn't share my insanely useless knowledge of the automobilic landscape, I guarantee that if you saw a glimpse of a 1 and a 3 sitting next to each other, there is a 98.7% chance you would wonder why in the hell that man has two of the same cars in different colors. Issue #1: THEY ARE THE SAME SIZE. Well, not exactly, but close enough that if this were the 90's, Oprah wouldn't be able to fit in either, but then she would, but then she wouldn't again.
Behind the final door number three is the androgynous 5-series GT. Honestly... the only words I can think of to describe this automotive abomination is Hunchback of Notre Dame, I plan on showing a photo, but only after the following disclaimer:
Allow me to explain, most automakers like to build a single model for a single model class, for example Ford makes the Fiesta for the compact-hatch class, Taurus for the large sedan class, F-150 for the 1/2 ton truck class, etc. This basic theory allows brands to compete with each other for one particular type of consumer, instead of competing with itself for that same consumer. The men with expensive MBA's in pinstripes and windsor knots over at BMW have decided that they want to make cars that compete with their own cars. Let me say that again, because I know for most individuals of a relatively sane mind, you may have had a mini-stroke whilst reading that sentence... they make a product, that competes DIRECTLY with another one of their own products.
BMW's model line stacks up like this 1 (series), 3, 5, 6, 7, Z, X, and M. When you take a step back and look at it from a distance of at least 6 to 7 feet, this looks like a very solid line up - we have all the staples, subcompact, compact, midsize, playboy coupe, boat, sporty coupe/convertible, (wannabe) SUV, and chuck norris.
However, all is not dandy for the Müllers's. Let me begin my grand inspection with the 1-series vs 3-series love affair. For anyone who doesn't share my insanely useless knowledge of the automobilic landscape, I guarantee that if you saw a glimpse of a 1 and a 3 sitting next to each other, there is a 98.7% chance you would wonder why in the hell that man has two of the same cars in different colors. Issue #1: THEY ARE THE SAME SIZE. Well, not exactly, but close enough that if this were the 90's, Oprah wouldn't be able to fit in either, but then she would, but then she wouldn't again.
My next conundrum is the amount of monetary compensation you will have to throw at BMW for each of them... Issue #2: THEY ARE THE SAME PRICE. A 135i will start at $39,050 while a 335i Coupe will run you $44,100 (a 328i coupe is $37, 650... yes, cheaper than its smaller counterpart with a MARGINALLY smaller engine.) For most Americans, $5,000 is a bargain for a few more inches that will allow your gut to sit comfortably on your thighs instead of on the steering wheel.
I ask the question, Why does BMW even have the 1-series if it is just a minutely smaller version of the 3-series? I think it's just plain poor business sense... I know the 1-series is a great car, because BMW makes great cars, but what's the point when the 3-series is an icon? If you want to make a great small sports car, do that, make it SMALL.
Here's the part where you think I'm done... but oh are you completely mistaken. I could honestly turn this post into a thesis paper, but I hope most of you have actual productive sh** to do, so I will do my best to keep the following points relatively brief.
Behind door number two sit the X3 and X5... the "Sports Activity Vehicles." These two SAV's suffer from the EXACT same disease as the 1 and 3-series. They are just simply too close in size and price. The X3 is a medium-sized expensive SUV (I think it was trying to "compete" with the likes of a Rav-4 or CR-V.... come on, just stop it.) while the X5 is a medium-large sized expensive SUV... I just fail to see the point of having both - CAN I GET A LITTLE VARIETY?! If I'm looking to buy an SUV I might look at both the X3 and X5 and realize they are they same thing. Why don't you leave the X5, call it the X3 and create an SUV with its own gravitational pull and call it the X5, then we have a little distinction.
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EDIT - Notice: We regret to inform the readers of "An Impractical Automobilist" that the author has been hospitalized due to a case of Post-Traumatic Stress. We wish him a speedy recovery.
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Monday, August 15, 2011
Guilty Pleasure - Ford Crown Victoria Police Interceptor
Allow me to grasp, for a second, your imagination. In your mind's eye, picture yourself in the drivers seat of your own car, the sun sinks just below the horizon as the blanket of night begins to engulf all that surrounds you. The lights and neon of the city hums to life, and the street comes alive with abundant vitality. You are hurrying home, hungry, tired, just waiting to find that second wind that will carry you through the fatigue of the day and into the unrevealed excitement of the night. Then it hits you, you are jolted from your daydream just as you blow through a red light. Sure enough, in your rear view mirror you see the disparaging sneer of a Ford Crown Victoria right on your tail... however there are no flashing lights this time, just a cab. That was close.
Arguably the most feared car in America, the Crown Victoria is not only a symbol of the ever imposing man but also, in my mind, the last REAL American muscle car. It's a harken back to a time cars were the size of small moons, engines had horsepower equivalent to at least quadruple the IQ of the average driver, suspensions were made from discarded carnival prizes, a steering wheel was a suggestion, and a nights entertainment came from a mysterious machine called a "Wurlitzer" at a place referred to as the "Roller Palace." The Crown Vic embraces every single one of these uniquely American pastimes, not to mention it has perpetually been chosen to be the workhorse that protects our cities and towns, our politicians, and even gets us home safely after a night on the town. It regularly beasts past 300,000 hard miles while simultaneously keeping the Porsche driving joyriders in check on our beloved interstates.
The most recent generation of the Crown Vic Interceptor boasts a 4.6L V8 mated to none other than a 4 speed automatic tranny, because you wouldn't want any more than 4. It reaches over 17 feet long, and is nearly 7 feet across. Bathe it in jet black, black steel wheels, and a grill guarde, you have the ability to drive as fast as you want, through anyone's yard you want, run as many lights as you want and all without raising a single suspicion from anyone. Once inside, you will be adorned with only the most lavish of accompaniments... a bench in the front, more leg room in the back than all the bleachers in Yankee Stadium combined, an AM/FM radio (WITH tape deck), and power windows (STANDARD!) Did I also mention the seats are a wonderful selection of urine and vomit resistant grey vinyl?!
Take all the brilliance into consideration and we have met every stipulation of the last great American muscle car. No frills, just a 'roid raging rhino that will gladly steal your girlfriend and destroy your home with a smile cracked just under its Burt Reynolds mustache. Because in the end, what is a muscle car? It's a big engine with wheels attached, it goes fast in a straight line, its tough, and it doesn't take sh** from anyone. After the golden years of the muscle car in the 60's and 70's, they largely disappeared and were deemed inefficient and antiquated in a world of exponentially advancing technology. I am hard-pressed to find many examples of a true muscle car as we leave the early 70's, but since the Crown Vic emerged from the dark in 1992 it has been carrying the dimly lit torch hoping to one day again light a flame of excitement under the American auto industry.
Next year the Crown Vic celebrates its 20 year anniversary, and I say here's to many more years of unabashed, unsympathetic, unconcerned ass kicking.
IA, out.
If you enjoy reading please comment and share with your friends! Follow me on twitter, @TheAutoist
Arguably the most feared car in America, the Crown Victoria is not only a symbol of the ever imposing man but also, in my mind, the last REAL American muscle car. It's a harken back to a time cars were the size of small moons, engines had horsepower equivalent to at least quadruple the IQ of the average driver, suspensions were made from discarded carnival prizes, a steering wheel was a suggestion, and a nights entertainment came from a mysterious machine called a "Wurlitzer" at a place referred to as the "Roller Palace." The Crown Vic embraces every single one of these uniquely American pastimes, not to mention it has perpetually been chosen to be the workhorse that protects our cities and towns, our politicians, and even gets us home safely after a night on the town. It regularly beasts past 300,000 hard miles while simultaneously keeping the Porsche driving joyriders in check on our beloved interstates.
The most recent generation of the Crown Vic Interceptor boasts a 4.6L V8 mated to none other than a 4 speed automatic tranny, because you wouldn't want any more than 4. It reaches over 17 feet long, and is nearly 7 feet across. Bathe it in jet black, black steel wheels, and a grill guarde, you have the ability to drive as fast as you want, through anyone's yard you want, run as many lights as you want and all without raising a single suspicion from anyone. Once inside, you will be adorned with only the most lavish of accompaniments... a bench in the front, more leg room in the back than all the bleachers in Yankee Stadium combined, an AM/FM radio (WITH tape deck), and power windows (STANDARD!) Did I also mention the seats are a wonderful selection of urine and vomit resistant grey vinyl?!
Take all the brilliance into consideration and we have met every stipulation of the last great American muscle car. No frills, just a 'roid raging rhino that will gladly steal your girlfriend and destroy your home with a smile cracked just under its Burt Reynolds mustache. Because in the end, what is a muscle car? It's a big engine with wheels attached, it goes fast in a straight line, its tough, and it doesn't take sh** from anyone. After the golden years of the muscle car in the 60's and 70's, they largely disappeared and were deemed inefficient and antiquated in a world of exponentially advancing technology. I am hard-pressed to find many examples of a true muscle car as we leave the early 70's, but since the Crown Vic emerged from the dark in 1992 it has been carrying the dimly lit torch hoping to one day again light a flame of excitement under the American auto industry.
Next year the Crown Vic celebrates its 20 year anniversary, and I say here's to many more years of unabashed, unsympathetic, unconcerned ass kicking.
IA, out.
If you enjoy reading please comment and share with your friends! Follow me on twitter, @TheAutoist
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