Posts from ‘Humor’
Few film genres employ characters more cookie-cutter and two-dimensional than do Westerns. Generally speaking, the whole good guy/bad guy, cowboys/Indians thing is the stuff of mediocre legend. Anyone who’s watched any Roy Rogers movie knows exactly what I’m talking about.
Some 200 million Americans fall between the ages of 20 and 70. Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that 25 percent of those folks are headed off to a costume party this Halloween. What fraction of that group would you say will be wearing a Donald Trump costume? If it’s ten percent—and that seems really low to me—that means that more than 6 million folks will be bobbing for apples or tossing back hard cider while wearing a dark suit, red tie, and a Donald mask. Don’t be one of those people. (And yes, that number includes women. It’s even funnier if women dress up as Donald Trump.)
It was the summer of 1974. Having spent the day at the amusement park then known as Six Flags over Middle America, my family and I hit the swimming pool at the Safari Camp Ground at which we were staying for the week.
It was during a rather spirited session of Marco Polo involving several families that someone’s mother—not mine—interrupted the aquatic merriment. She had brought a radio poolside, and yelled for everyone to shut up and listen.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, or so we’ve been told. Odds are that a parent or guardian first presented this tired adage to us, likely on the occasion of our honest appraisal of an unwanted Christmas sweater, hand-me-down bike, or nerdy cousin.
I’m not much of a criminal. I don’t think I’ve intentionally stolen anything since I was confirmed, and I survived the great missing-leftover-pizza scandal that rocked my household last weekend with my reputation largely unscathed. My wife and daughter now accept my “accidentally thrown out” defense as “plausible.”
It strikes me that the five cars listed here are a little like Pia Zadora. How, you may ask, is any vehicle like Pia Zadora? I’m glad you asked.
To most folks, dunking pizza in ranch dressing amounts to a culinary crime not far shy of squirting catsup on a Chicago-style hot dog. Yet, a good friend’s daughter swears by the results, suspect though the combination may seem.
The evidence has been piling up for a while now, but the verdict is unavoidable: The traditional automobile is all but dead.
There are a couple of paths we can take to reach this conclusion, and a couple of different definitions of “dead” that we can employ, but there’s one particular path and one outcome that I am most saddened by.
As a professional car guy and amateur curmudgeon and skeptic, I miss the early years of the 21st century. I miss them, because those were the years that Chinese automakers were making the most noise about selling cars in the U.S.
Journalists who attended auto shows in the early 2000s where companies such as Brilliance, BYD, Geely, and Changfeng Liebao presented their wares will recall with glee spectacular U.S. sales projections and shockingly tone-deaf video presentations.
History’s greatest disaster metaphor is inarguably the Titanic, the giant, “unsinkable” ship that would go ahead and promptly sink on its maiden voyage. I would argue that NBC’s prime-time drama “Super Train” was actually a more impressive disaster, but since no one remembers the show, it’s unlikely to catch on as a cultural reference point.