Steve's Crap Car Of The Day

ALFA ROMEO ARNA 1984-87

You’ve probably never heard of the Alfa Arna, right? And I say that not as a comment on any inferior knowledge of automotive history on your part. You simply haven’t heard of the Arna because it was so utterly crap both its parents – Alfa and Nissan – have spent the last 30 years erasing all traces of its existence.

Detailed forensic journalism has however uncovered the following sad story…

On the face of it, the Arna seemed like a really good idea. But then again, just about anything seems like a really good idea if you drink enough saki. Which is clearly what happened when Alfa’s bosses met up with their Japanese counterparts for an extended Friday arvie lunch. How else would men of sound mind come up with this abomination…

Yes, Japanese cars were dead boring too look at, but they were helluva reliable. And sure, Italian cars were sexy as hell but – particularly in the late ‘70s and 80s – totally shite in the reliability department. And again, yes, blending the best of these worlds could well make for a decent automobile. The Italians get Japanese reliability, the Nips get Eyetie glamour.

Si?

Ja… no.

Instead of sticking reliable Japanese mechanicals into a svelte Italian body, they did just the opposite.

The body chosen for this Italo-Nipponese venture was the Nissan Cherry – a hatchback from the Ruler-and-Straight-Line School of Design. And the engine. gearbox and electrics came from the outgoing Alfasud – an automobile whose total lack of reliability has become the stuff of legend. Describe anything as “Alfasud-like” and people know exactly where you're coming from. In fact so bad was the Alfasud that its unreliability was something of a plus. It was even crapper when it actually worked (story for another day though)

And that was the Arna. A crap Japanese body stuffed with even crapper Italian mechanicals.

Not much more to say really. The car was a shocker. No-one bought it. After three years production ceased, and Alfa and Nissan agreed to pretend they’d never met each other.

The name, by the way is an acronym for “Alfa Romeo Nissan Autoveicoli”. I have no idea what a “veicoli” is, but it sounds a lot like a small virus that gives you the shits, doesn’t it?

I'm Down with My Sheeps

I am a sheep. I thought I was an individual, but it turns out that I am, in fact, a sheep. This realization dawned on me last night while watching Miss Texas 1977 at The Waiting Room in Long st, CT.

Until I walked into The Waiting Room’s packed space, I’d been under the clearly delusional impression that I was a man of discerning taste. A man whose sartorial and musical leanings, coupled with his choice of profession, made him someone who stood out from the hoi polloi. But no.

Spread out before me at The Waiting Room – leaning against the walls or sitting on the old sofas and chairs – were a whole bunch of people who looked like me. I mean exactly like me. It was a sea of vintage cowboys shirts, old skool raw denim Wrangler jeans (with turns ups, obviously), limited edition adidas originals sneakers, tweed flat caps, Fred Perry jumpers… and beards. And they were all tapping their feet to the Monster Of Folk track playing as a teaser to the Miss Texas 1977 set. Needless to say one of my favourite recent albums is MOF. I probably recognized at least half the crowd as being involved in media in some way as well.

It fucking freaked me out.

There seemed no best case scenario to this. Either the hoi polloi had become a lot more switched on… or I wasn’t quite as unique as I’d imagined. Mom, you lied to me all these years.

Adding a little irony to the mix was the fact that I was there with my mate Dave The Photographer. Dave and I go back to our days working on SL magazine in the late ‘90s. And Dave once had an exhibition of portraits called “People Who Other People Say Look Like Me”. I was one of the people Dave chose to photograph for that. Everyone else in the room looked like me… and I looked like Dave.

I’m not sure why this has all bothered me so much. I should be… I am… smart enough to know that we all exist within social groups of similar leanings. It’s just that when you see all those similar leanings in one room, it’s a little weird.

To cope with this, Dave and I both ordered double Jamesons with a splash of water. Downstairs at the burger joint Royale we’d also both ordered their “Federale” burger on wheat free buns and mixed chips. How could we not. They’re just so damn good.

Steve's Crap Car Of The Day

FORD EDSEL 1958-60

You can’t write about crap cars and not mention the Ford Edsel. That’d be like writing a piece on short-legged, small-‘tached, bulgy-eyed, fascist dictators of the 20th century and leaving out Adolf. Nope, no car in the history of the world has gotten as much bad press as the Ford Edsel.

There are a couple of reasons for the enormity of its crapness.

The main reason is that it’s a classic case of over-selling and under delivering. Prior to its launch, Ford sent out teaser campaigns affording only glimpses of the car and when it was finally delivered, new Edsels in the dealership showrooms were covered by a tarpaulin. The car was also named after founder Henry Ford’s son Edsel, further implying what a big deal this car must surely be.

In fact Ford hyped the Edsel up to such a degree that the Yanks were pretty much expecting a car that could fly, make one of them new-fangled cappuccinos, and park itself at night.

Imagine then their immense disappointment when they realized the car wasn’t much more than a boring old Mercury (Ford’s sibling company) in disguise.

It was then that the more celebrated reason for the Edsel’s demise began to gather momentum. Look at the grill… look sort of vaguely familiar? Yes, it is indeed a giant chrome vagina. Once the idea is planted in your mind, it’s tough to throw off isn’t it? Oh yeah.

And that, car fans, spelled the end of the Edsel. Ford only managed to shift 84 000 models, less than half their break even target. It’s estimated Ford lost about $350m ($1.5b in today’s money). Spare a though too for poor Edsel Ford – a man whose name would be forever be linked with a shiny chrome va-jay-jay.

LOOK AND LEARN

No doubt that South Africa’s hosting of the FIFA World Cup 2010© (there you go Sepp) has taught us many things.

On me personally, it imparted 5 learnings.

1. My cat is either psychic or an octopus in disguise. Boebie – we named him after a Woodstock gangster (long story) – was the subject of a little domestic experiment. Emulating the famous exploits of Paul Der Kalamari, we decided to see if Boebie could also predict the outcome of the final. On one food bowl we stuck a Spanish flag, and on the other a Dutch one. In each the bowl we put a spoon of tuna. And in front of both we put Boebie.

He headed straight for the Spanish tuna. And when he finished that he polished off the Dutch. Proof then that besides the fact that he’s a total glutton (and embarrassingly fat for a cat), Boebie has incredible powers of prediction, for as we all well know, the Spaniards are now world champs.

2. Fake tickets work. They get you in. Someone might be sitting in “your” seat, but there’s always a spare seat going somewhere.

3. I need to get back into the gym. I took my 7-year old daughter to watch Portugal play North Korea. We had great seats. In the second half we sat behind the Korean goal – sort of diagonally to the left. Which meant that 6 of the 7 Portuguese goals were scored right in front of us. Which meant that every time the Porras scored, or came close to scoring, everyone in the stands stood up. And that meant that every time this happened I had to jump and host Holly above above it all for her to catch the magic.

By the end of the game I was sweating profusely and could barely lift my hand to scratch, or pick, my nose.

4. The vuvuzelas were great. They added to the Great SA World Cup Vibe. Unless there was one right behind you in the stands. Then you wanted to punch your fellow football fan.

5. Budweiser is crap beer. Despite a determined sampling exercise, I have reached a firm conclusion. Most beers start to taste ok after the second. Not with Bud, bud.

DA SMITHY CODE... decoding the sport soundbyte

Bok coach Peter de Villiers on why he is such a together guy

It’s not “almost” too easy having a go at Peter de Villiers… it is too easy. Of course, that’s never stopped me before.

Pete had this to say ahead of the Boks’ Tri-Nations opener against the All Blacks on Saturday (you have to get the high-pitched, winey accent right)…

What he actually said…
“I am a strong individual, a strong character, and I don’t care what people think or say about me, because it is what I think about me that counts, and I love myself a lot.”


What he actually means:
“I tried really hard to explain myself to people, but they kept pointing at me and laughing. Especially Bakkies Botha. I tell you there are only so many times you can sit at a press conference explaining your very detailed analysis of this great game of rugby… and then watch people slap their thighs laughing. As I said, especially Bakkies Botha.

It can bring a man down. All the therapy seems to helping a lot though.”

Steve's Crap Car Of The Day

PONTIAC AZTEK 2001 - 2005
This makes the list solely on its looks. I don’t care if it handles better than Lewis Hamilton’s McLaren, this is probably the ugliest car ever made. In fact it’s a contender for the ugliest object ever made.

It’s horrific. It looks like one car is emerging from within the bowels of another. It’s the Alien of cars. It’s a horror movie with four wheels and an internal combustion engine. Not even the Devil would drive it (he’s a Toyota Prius guy, obviously). It was the stuff of nightmares and scared the beJesus out of a generation of US kids: “Mommm! I can’t sleep, there’s a Pontiac Aztek under my bed!”

Interestingly – or maybe weirdly – the original Detroit Motorshow concept Aztek didn’t look all that bad. Still crap obviously, but not as catastrophically crap as the production version turned out to be. Detroit beancounters destroyed any slim chance of success the concept might’ve had by insisting it be built on an existing minivan platform, making the production Aztek taller and narrower than its progenitor. And that was enough to tip it from the very edge of quirky into the very centre of eyeball-hemorrhaging ugly.

Some revisionist-history nutters have suggested that the reason for the Aztek’s demise was that it was ahead its time… that the world wasn’t quite ready for a mid-size urban SUV cross-over. Oh they were ready. They just weren’t ready for the Aztek. There were audible gasps when it first appeared in Pontiac’s showrooms. We’re talking the type of gasps followed by screams and the slap-slapping of running feet…not applause.

With epically misguided hopes of selling 50 000 to 70 000 units a year, by the time Pontiac humanely put the Aztek out of its misery, less than 30 000 in total had been sold in 5 years.

Come to think of it, the car was doomed from the get go. What kind of karma do you expect a car to have being named after a bunch of people plundered, butchered, and diseased out of existence by a posse of hirsute Spaniards in tights and breastplates? There was freaky voodoo going on with this car, I’m telling you.

Steve's Crap Car Of The Day

GENERAL MOTORS EV1.... 1996-1999


Conspiracy theories abound as to the demise of the world’s first mass-produced electric car. There was even a doccie about it called “Who Killed The Electric Car” I think it even made the movie circuit here.

Why? Because In 2002 General Motors terminated the leasing program and huffily took all their cars back.

And why did they do that? Because, say the conspiracists, General Motors knows who butters its bread. In this instance the holders of the blunt knife were the petroleum giants and, say the Conspiracists R Us, it was they who pressured GM into whipping the cars off the road.

Umm… ja… actually… no.

The real reason was that the car was totally crap.

And GM knew it too. Why else would they only lease the 800 or so cars they made to chosen citizens in California and not have the bollocks to actually sell them?

There were, in fact, several levels to its crapness.

1. It looked like a car wearing a balaclava.

2. It was first released with lead-acid batteries. Which basically gave it the carbon footprint the size of a small town when you consider what it takes to mine the battery’s contents… and then dispose of it when the car was scrapped

3. The second gen. nickel-metal hydride batteries were greener… but they took 8 hours to charge. And they only provided a marginally improved mileage…

4. ... which was the car’s biggest problem. With the gen 1 battery you could probably get 90km out it. Gen 2 would give you 120km. Woohoo.

Basically then you had a car with enough amps in the tank to get you to the shops and back… Plus it kinda looked like its pants were falling down.

The EV1's final Stamp Of Crapness came when GM reclaimed all their EV1s. As if to obliterate all traces of this useless automobile, they crushed most of them save for a couple donated to museums (with their drive-trains disabled).

The whole exercise cost GM $1-billion. One. Billion. Dollars. Seriously.