Grant's Auto Rants

Autobahn

In his September 14th, 1977 New York Times column, Mark Hawkins wrote, "Show me a nation whose national beverage is beer, and I will show you a modern toilet technology." And while it seems that much has changed in the world since 1977, I can confidently say that the relationship between toilets and beer is not one of them.

On the other hand, were I to run into Mr. Hawkins today in the local tavern enjoying a cold draught, I might be inclined to say, "Show me a nation that has produced the likes of AUDI, VW, Mercedes-Benz, Opel, BMW, and Porsche, and I will show you a country with one hell of a modern highway technology."

The network of German highways (Autobahn) has gained near celebrity status -- especially within North America -- for its reputation as little more than a nation-wide racetrack. Popular belief would have you think that German drivers don helmets and full race gear every time they go to the grocery store, which they do at mach one with their hair on fire since they’ve been given a green light to drive as fast as they like in a brazen free-for-all wherever and whenever they please.

The reality, of course, is considerably different from this skewed view. Generally speaking, they don’t wear helmets.

At first glance one might think that the system of high- and by-ways within Germany looks very similar, if not identical, to that of neighboring Italy, Switzerland, Netherlands, or even Poland. Upon closer inspection, however, you will find that the German highway is one of the most complex and modern pieces of industrial "equipment" in the world.

The entire network spans roughly 7,500 miles and services tens of millions of people every day. Originally built as a small racetrack, the Autobahn eventually became a symbol of German engineering and quickly evolved into the legendary network that now epitomizes the German obsession with speed. Even today, the very mention of the word invokes images of wide open roads and speeding imports.

Something people may not know, however, is that more than 50 percent of the highway does, in fact, have a speed limit (usually 120 kph), or that secondary routes and town roads have considerable speed enforcement via patrol cars, motorcycles, and the dreaded speed camera. Additionally (and very ironically), Germany has a serious problem with traffic jams, as the roads serve not only Germans but an enormous volume of transnational passenger and Semi-trailer traffic.

To cope with such volume, the entire structure is laced with an extremely complex system of cameras, traffic-flow sensors, signage, and control centers. It’s so complex that it can sense when there is a build up of traffic from an accident or other problem, change the signs in the surrounding areas to inform drivers, and even open or close the breakdown lane to compensate for the increased volume -- all without the aid of a human.

When there’s a problem due to accidents (which, admittedly, are serious but are also more infrequent than most highway systems in the world), there is an automobile association roughly equivalent to -- but far more extensive and capable than -- the AAA/CAA in North America. This group (called ADAC) has been dubbed the "Yellow Angels" for their dedicated service in all types of traffic-related incidents. It deploys hundreds of "mechanics on wheels" to aid stranded motorists, and operates 36 MedEvac Helicopters for the more serious of accidents.

Now, the stereotype for the Autobahn does come from somewhere. The absence of speed limits does make for a very interesting commute, to say the least. The Germans, however, are far too clever to let just anyone with access to a motor vehicle loose on their roadways.

In fact, the process of obtaining a driver’s license in Germany is strictly controlled and requires considerable training and investment (the equivalent of roughly $2,000 U.S.). Once deemed worthy to operate a motor vehicle, all -- and I do mean all -- Germans adhere to written and unwritten rules of the road. While you may find an approaching car flashing its lights or leaving its left blinker on in an effort to pass (both of which are, incidentally, illegal), you will never see it passing on the right.

Another interesting phenomenon is the car manufacturer hierarchy in terms of "right of way" in the coveted high-speed lane. The unwritten hierarchy is as follows: Porsche, Mercedes-Benz, BMW, AUDI, and Volkswagen.

With speeds in excess of 140 and even 160+ miles per hour, you can bet that extreme consideration is given not only to traffic control, but to the physical roadway itself. While traveling at a clip of 150 mph is no time to hit a pothole. The actual highway averages a whopping 27 inches in thickness. That’s more than double the U.S. average, and could easily support the weight of a landing 747 jetliner.

Additionally, the road was constructed with certain minimum cornering radii, and even more significantly, with the maximum of a 5 percent grade so that cars could achieve and maintain maximum speeds without significant forces caused by hills or turns hindering them. Finally, the entire road surface is actually tilted at 4 percent to ensure that rain (which is the Autobahn’s primary cause of destruction, even before the millions of cars that travel on it) will run off in to a labyrinth of roadside drainage.

As one might expect, the luxury of such a safe and fast system of highways does come with a hefty price tag. Maintenance on the Autobahn in Germany alone costs an astonishing $900,000 per mile annually, which is more than double what is spent in U.S. making the system a very costly structure indeed.

I think I have a pretty good idea which country Mr. Hawkins was referring to in his famous quote. And while I have never seen a $900,000 toilet, I’m guessing that the people who brought us Beck’s, Lowenbrau, and the St. Pauli Girl could build it.

Car Names: The good, bad, and downright ugly

The subject of automotive names and designations has been documented in countless columns and articles over the years. To date, I have resisted the urge to retell the tales of the famed Chevy Nova ("It won't go" in Spanish) marketing blunder and the like, but over the course of some recent research I came across several new entries that I simply could not ignore.

In all fairness, it's is easy to see where the manufacturer's marketing departments run into trouble. The automotive industry, and for all intents and purposes the entire retail environment, has been flooded with so many brand names and niche products that the English language and alphabet simply can't support all the descriptive labels the manufacturers like to use. Add to this globalization and the concern for translation, and slang meaning is compounded considerably.

Traditionally, companies reserved the more unique names for cars within specific limited markets or geographic regions. Most of the luxury brands, however, adopted some variation of the alphanumeric names early on which, in retrospect, was probably the best play. For the most part, the use of a few letters and numbers with no established meaning was harmless enough. Where models were pushed in many different countries with even more languages and dialects, this was certainly the easiest route.

The altered state of being that was the 60s and 70s brought one of the first tangible movements in automotive design: the muscle car era. And with it came a deluge of creative car names. Whether this creativity was the product of marketing genius or just a lot of reefer is largely inconsequential at this point. Names like "Barracuda" and "Marauder" will always be cool.

But for every time they got it right, even back then, there seemed to be several models that came off as pathetic or simply conjure no association whatsoever. The "Superbird" was a monster of a car, but what is that name supposed to mean? Another one I have always had trouble with is the "Monte Carlo." Sure, whenever I hear it I do tend to think of Chevy's efforts to step outside the box and offer a monster V8 in an otherwise humble sedan. But, to me, there is absolutely nothing I can think of that's less like the wealthy principality along the Mediterranean than this car.

Fast-forward to present day and the job of naming a car becomes truly grim. Most manufacturers seem to have given up on the possibility of describing the car's actual attributes. All the cool animals have been used, and even the more "aggressive" fruits, vegetables and spices have generally been taken. So all that's left is to make up their own darn names and just cross their fingers that they don't hold a secondary meaning having something to do with the church, self-gratification, and/or farm animal excrement.

And here is another question: why is it always so horribly bad when they do get it wrong? For example, why couldn't the "Opel Ascona" mean "little flower" or "cute worm," which would have been cause for just mild embarrassment, instead of female genitalia, which it does in Northern Spain and parts of Portugal? For that matter, when Buick launched the "LaCrosse" in Canada why couldn't it have come across as "the fancy pen on wheels," or something to do with archery? Nope, in French-speaking Quebec, the meaning is, of course, masturbating teenagers.   

Similar fates met the Honda "Fitta" in Scandinavia (again female parts), the Mitsubishi "Pajero" in Spanish-speaking countries (again with the self-gratifying male), and the always-clever Mazda "LaPuta" as the less-offensive "whore," which I don't think anyone would want to take for a spin around the block.

There are a few more honest mistakes that while, mercifully, don't bury the associated company in controversy, were just plain bad ideas from the get-go. More often than not they come from the uniquely charismatic Japanese market.  Some that quickly come to mind are the Honda "Life Dunk," Mazda "Bongo," Daihatsu "Naked," Volugrafo "Bimbo," Toyota "Deliboy," and my personal favorite, the Isuzu GIGA 20 "Light Dump."

Before you start feeling bad for the people who came up with these silly monikers, remember that they weren't simply slapped on the back end of the car after a brief focus group just prior to launch. These names were part of the design and image of the car directly from conception. As a matter of fact, they needed to be trademarked in a public place within the Trademark office often several years before the cars ever hit the pavement. In fact you can go there right now and see what's registered for the future Nissan "Fairlady Z."

Quest for a Lexus RX330

With the holiday season fast approaching, I was looking forward to actually taking a slight break from discussion of navigation systems, radar adaptive cruise control, and other hot topics of current automotive design. This season marks a time of year when all things business-like and industrial typically slow with employees heading off to feast in far off regions with family members they have likely not seen since the last run around. Also, the end of the year generally spurs reflection on the accomplishments of the past year when projects and details are wrapped up with thoughts of a new beginning just around the corner.

With that in mind, I was all set to write about the ingenious ways my wife has been able to transform typical thanksgiving leftovers into downright gourmet fare. The remarkable conglomeration of food is more on par with a freshly cooked Chateaubriand than anything scavenged off a picked-over Turkey carcass. And just a I sat down to give away some of her secrets of meuniére, I was reminded that the day marked one of the great commercial phenomenon of modern day: Black Friday.

Apparently, my urge to slow down was a bit premature as I was quickly reminded that this bastion of greed, which marks the beginning of the Holiday shopping season, often includes shopping for a new car. There was certainly no shortage of football-interrupting advertisements touting "end of the year" or "holiday" automotive blowouts. But as these types of campaigns have become commonplace throughout the rest of the year, they weren't what tipped me off.

My parents were in town for Thanksgiving and mentioned that they, in fact, were interested in looking at a new car for my mother. Certainly this marked an occasion for me as someone who has spent the better part of the last six months entrenched in the battle that is automotive retail. I had imagined the day when I might again be on the other side of the transaction and could put everything I had learned to the test. I just had no idea it was to come so soon.

My parents had told me what they were looking for several months earlier, so I had already furnished them with all sorts of research resources, both on and off line. By the time we were set to go to the dealer, we all had a pretty good idea of what we were seeking. I had kept an eye on what the cars were going for at the wholesale auctions in case we decided to go the Certified Pre-owned route, and I knew everything about the mark-up in the cars, including the $715 holdback. Finally, I had every conceivable printout from Kelley Blue Book, Edmunds, NADA, even Reader's Digest. The only thing I needed now was a victim.

With a short drive to the local Lexus dealer, the show down was set. I hadn't bothered to call ahead, as I was sure they would simply say they had exactly what we were looking for, just as I was trained to do. When we arrived, I immediately scouted the lot for either the youngest or oldest salesperson I could find. I didn't see anyone who would be particularly easy to deal with, so I chose to let them decide who would be assigned to me. I had dressed down and decided long before we got there that I would keep my current position as a fellow salesman quiet. I opted instead to play the annoying son who accompanies the parents and obviously spends far too much time reading about how people are buying 2005's for $300 over invoice.

We had the whole clan with us: both of my parents, my wife, even the family dog so that we could attack from all sides, if need be. Shortly after we zeroed in on the car we were looking for, however, it became obvious that this was going to be between me and the schmo across the desk. We quickly went from "we do not discount the 2005's at all" to $2400 off and full book value for our trade-in, sight unseen. It was beginning to look like these low prices weren't just myth, but we were stuck at this point, with the dealer still making a considerable profit on a car that wasn't even on the lot yet. I felt like I might be losing control of the negotiation.

At this point, I was ready to get out of there. There was another dealership just a few minutes up the road, at which I had a friend who happened to mention he had just taken in the exact car we were looking for the day before. The exercise was complete; I knew how low these guys would go, and I had accumulated the necessary ammo for the dealership I actually wanted to deal with. But the salesman (and I have to give him some credit for this) went into "last ditch mode" just as I was walking out the door. He pushed for the sale with every word he said, and put the ball back in our court with the token "how much will it take" line. All I wanted to do was thank him for his time and get to the door, but I found myself taking the time to explain why his offer still wouldn't work.

I can see how the sense of urgency salesmen like this one creates can suck many casual shoppers in, but I had been expecting it and had a better option up the road. This salesman had an added problem, though -- a smug attitude that he held during the entire event that would have prevented us from ever actually dealing with him, regardless of the numbers he came up with.

They say that over 90 percent of the time, a potential car purchaser will decide within the first five minutes whether or not he would purchase a car from a dealership's salesperson. It's very clear to me now how that can be.

In the end, we purchased the car from my friend up the street. While his dealership did make me go through a bit of the song and dance again, I was happier leaving just a little bit of money on the table knowing that it would be going to him. More importantly my parents were thrilled, which is certainly the most important thing given that they're the ones who'll own and operate the car.

There's another unwritten rule in the car business that says it's the people who negotiate the deal to the death, nickel and dimeing all the way, asking for the free T-shirts, who are the unhappy ones in the end. These customers always seem to end up back in the dealership with further problems and issues. Not being one of these people is worth something in my book all day long.

The lesson to be learned here is that whatever you do, every once in a while you might want to put yourself on the other side of the fence. See how your competitors are doing it. You might be surprised by what you can learn.