1970: Chevy Corvair owned by my friend Stillman finally gives out with about 250,000 miles on it. With tremendous respect, we take it to the parking lot of Shea Stadium, take off the wheels and put it up on blocks, saying farewell to what was, in truth, the Galapagos tortoise of automobiles.  It did very little, but what it did it did incomparably.

1978: Pontiac V8. Bench seats. Very comfortable. Solid body, sounded like a tank when you closed the doors. More room than a suite at the Holiday Inn. Went from 0 to 60 in about seven seconds in spite of the fact that it weighed a ton. Got about 12 miles per gallon, 16 on the highway. Never gave me a moment’s trouble. Sold it for exactly what I paid for it brand new: $2400. No car like it has ever been made anywhere but in Detroit.

1982: I find myself in Los Angeles for a few days and decide to rent a Cadillac Eldorado. Big mother of a car. Drives like an big old boat; you can feel the body floating along on the chassis like a fat man in a swimming pool.  After a decade of Toyotas, it feels like I’ve come home from a pup tent to an enormous, comfortable house that anticipates my every need. When I am forced to give the car back, I almost weep.  

2000: I am looking for a car that expresses my inner child. After a few test drives in assorted BMWs, Lexi and such, I am passed on the highway by a T-top Camaro doing about 110. I check it out. 345 horses. Goes from 0 to 60 in only about a half a second less than a Porsche. The interior is a bit cheesy, true, but hugely capacious compared to the itsy-bitsy Mustang, which makes me feel claustrophobic, and there’s Schwarzeneggerian muscle under the hood. Comes in at about $30,000, about fifty grand less than its closest competitor in terms of power and comfort. In the end, I find the T-top a little wearing and wish I’d gotten a convertible. But what a car! I miss it even now.

Everybody’s mad at General Motors (GM).  And of course it’s obvious they’ve messed things up entirely. Stupid GM! So many mistakes. Perhaps a quick Chapter 11 is the only way to go here, I don’t know. I do know one thing, however. GM makes good cars. Have you seen the new 2010 Camaro?

I could lose 1000 banks as long as mine doesn’t fail.  Every hedge fund in the world could go under as far as I’m concerned. But we’d better be pretty careful about our good old American car business. I mean, if they go, can the cheeseburger be far behind?

Dear Uncle Larry and Aunt Bea,

It’s been a hard weekend, which is the only excuse I have for not answering your e-mail sooner. I’m sure the May 9th date will work out fine for the barbecue. I don’t have anything planned for that week, or the week before. Or the week after, for that matter, although I do have a couple of interviews for excellent management positions in a number of very attractive companies, none of which have anything to do with cars I’m happy to say. I’ve just about had enough of the automobile business, I can tell you that!

You’re right, though. That phone call from Mr. Ratner was a little tough to take. I remember Steve when he was a young reporter for the New York Times, and now he’s, like, the big boss of everybody I know. It’s kind of creepy, if you ask me. You’re sitting there with a nice plate of ham and eggs on a weekend morning and there’s this fellow on the telephone telling you that you’ve been fired. It was weird. Kind of a take-it-or-leave-it thing. Like, either I leave or the company doesn’t get the $16 billion. Talk about a no-brainer. Not that I didn’t think about it for a few minutes.

My first reaction was to run through all the good friends and allies I’ve built up in the company and the industry after all my years of service, and wonder what kind of push-back they were going to make on my behalf. That didn’t take long. Then I said okay. Mr. Ratner was very nice about it, by the way. I didn’t envy him the job. You can just imagine the conversation he had with Mr. Obama when they decided to take me out. “Have Tim do it,” says Mr. Ratner. “No,” says Mr. Obama, “Tim’s very busy” and so forth.

I think it’s very nice of you, Larry, to offer me such a key slot in your furniture store. I’m thinking it over very seriously, of course. I don’t know a lot about that business. But you know what they say. Management is management whatever kind of business you’re in. The capabilities you pick up in one industry are easily transferred to others once you master the basics of their operations. And my years at GM have certainly allowed me to develop a world-class skill set.

One thing is for sure. I’m going to need something. I asked Mr. Ratner what kind of severance package I could expect after all my years of service. I think he was about to answer when his cell phone must have given out. I’ll be getting back to them about that later, but I have a bad feeling about it for some reason.

Anyhow, say hello to the cousins and give an extra biscuit to Fluffy for me. And keep that fold out couch ready for me. I might need it!

Luv ya,

Rick

Do you guys know what a piddling amount $14 billion is to the Federal Government? We just allocated 50 times that amount to the financial business. But not a penny will Republican Senators allow to the crumbling American automotive business.

Yeah, I know what 47% of you will say. It’s the fault of the UAW, those greedy, stubborn auto workers who won’t give up their big fat paychecks right away in order to secure the deal. Bad, bad auto workers!

Sure. I know each and every one of you would give up a chunk of your salary and benefits without a full and aggressive negotiation beforehand, just because a bunch of suits were holding your company hostage.

Guess what. You wouldn’t. I will bet you right now that each and every auto worker is at this moment willing to talk about a rational deal achieved after a good hard look at what needs to be done. But the Senate holding a gun to their heads as it earns its pinstripes playing to the angry anti-bailout voters back home? That’s the price for that meager little pile of  cash?

America complains that, when bold, decisive action is needed to guide the nation, Washington moves too slowly on what needs to be done to stave off disaster. We saw it in the reaction to Katrina, certainly, or the floods in Ohio in 2006, although strangely not in Orange County, California, when it had its acts of God. Well, Washington is a stupid beast. Its temporary residents do what they think will keep them in power. They don’t want to lose their paychecks, either, I suppose.

So the little bit of grease that just might get our economy out of this year with one eye, one leg and a makeshift crutch to limp away on has just been squelched.

Merry Christmas. Happy New Year. January 20th can’t come too soon for me.