 |
| Rob's Soapbox | ||
|
Congratulations!
You have finally landed on the one page on this entire site (and on the entire internet for that matter) that is purely without bullshit... my soapbox page. There are a lot of times during our show that, whether it's because of time constraints and other obligations, I don't always get to address some issues that I feel don't get the attention they deserve. There are even more times when I just don't feel like waiting until the show the next day to get some things off my chest. Thus, I have started the "Rob's Soapbox" page. If you have clicked on this page looking for someone to coddle your fragile sense of self-esteem, or tell you what you want to hear or to reinforce your outdated world view, then exit this page right now and go somewhere else. If you are in search of the last forum for reason and common sense left in the world, then sit back, relax, and enjoy. I make only one promise with this soapbox page... if you read long enough and often enough, you will eventually be offended. So here's my latest soapbox. Listen up, 'cause you just might learn something... |
||
|
||
October 8th, 2007 I HATE CORVETTE DRIVERS Since I know that this column will wind up posted on every stupid, geek-infested Corvette website this side of Bowling Green Kentucky, allow me to offer this disclaimer: I am a two-time Corvette owner and driver. I currently own and very much enjoy a 2007 Z06 and I find it to be an exceptional sports car, worthy of all the praise that has been lavished upon it by every major, reputable car and luxury magazine in the world. From Car & Driver to Motor Trend to the Robb Report there isn’t a publication that matters that hasn’t placed the latest Z06 alongside the newest and greatest versions of the Ferrari, Mazzeratti and Lamborghini; rare air, indeed, and deservedly so. In a double-decade of embarrassing American car companies and American made cars, the Z06 Corvette is a reminder of what can be done and how great a luxury sports car can be made. Clearly, I love the car. Beyond that though, I hate almost everything associated with the Corvette, most notably other people that own, love and drive them. Not only are most of them dorky jerks who are wayyyyyyyy too into their cars, most of them also perpetuate every stupid, negative stereotype attributed to Corvette owners. Last week, while filling up my truck, a corvette pulled up to the pump behind me. Out got a middle aged man, with a moustache (this is 2007, right?) and, you guessed it, a Corvette t-shirt on. This breaks every rule of cool on the planet, dating back to that first jerk who actually wore his Black Sabbath T-shirt to a Black Sabbath concert. Fine, I can handle the fact that most corvette owners love their cars way too much like that guy. No, I do not own a Corvette jacket, key chain or t-shirt. Everything I have with “Corvette” on it was given to me as gifts by generous listeners and they are kept out of principle (I don’t throw things away that listeners give me. It’s rude to not acknowledge the generosity of your fans, I believe). Said gifts are also kept out of sight, in my office at home. A second, equally pervasive cliché that is also absolutely true is the mid-life crisis Corvette owner. I live in a “high rent” gated community which houses at least 10 Corvettes I am aware of, all of which, except mine, are driven by a guy between 45-55 with a big pot belly and a fat, ugly wife. You can see the lack of life in each of these guys’ faces day in and day out and their Corvette is their only escape; perfectly acceptable in my world if that is as good as your life is ever going to get, but still the perpetuation of a cliché. For the record, I bought my first Corvette in 2000 at the age of 29 and I am currently 36. Some of us actually buy the car because we just want to drive a great car and have some fun. While we’re at it, let’s dispel another stupid Corvette owner cliché; no, I don’t have a small dick. Most of the other Corvette clichés are true and equally annoying. Yes, most of us wave to each other when we pass by on the road as if we’re in some super secret club akin to Homer Simpson’s Stonecutters. Yes, many of these jerks actually belong to “Corvette clubs” and get together monthly to compare car notes and go on cruises. I despise even the thought of such a social gathering but to each their own. I will even admit that yes, many of us who own Corvettes are pricks. (There’s an old joke about the difference between a porcupine and a corvette and the location of the pricks that is actually pretty damn funny…but I digress). There is, however, one cliché in particular about Corvette owners that is overwhelmingly true, drives me insane, and basically combines every negative cliché attributed to corvettes into one horrible rotten monster of a beast. The recent passing of Labor Day weekend allowed me to once again view this cliché first hand and feel the vile fire in my gut that makes me wonder if maybe, just maybe, we really should regulate who can and can’t buy luxuries in this country and that perhaps the American dream shouldn’t be available to every one equally. Labor Day weekend is one of those three day holidays that really brings people out on the roads. Most people who travel during this holiday do so by car and Labor Day weekend represents the last big summer hurrah before the onset of fall, football season and the holidays. Thus, even people who aren’t “going away” for the weekend will perhaps go on at least a drive or a day trip. A lot of Corvette owners don’t like to drive their cars much or drive them at all in the rain so the Labor Day weekend provides a chance to take the car out for a fun spin perhaps one last time for the year. This, by the way, is an asinine attitude I have never understood. Why in the hell would you spend so much money on a car that you are barely ever going to drive? But I digress, as this is not the cliché that makes me insane. As it happened, on Labor Day weekend, my wife and I wound up driving from Lincoln to Cool, California, located in the hills equidistant between Auburn and El Dorado Hills. The trip was not a last hurrah in my corvette or even a day drive; it was a pre-planned visit for our dog Shep with some of his “doggie” friends on a ranch that he goes to now and then for some fun. Alas, we weren’t even driving my Corvette, but rather my pick up truck. The trip took us along Interstate 80, through portions of Auburn and then along Route 29, a windy, mountain road that takes you through trees, cliffs, bridges and waterways that is beautiful and serene. It is also a challenge for some to drive and fun as hell for those of us who love to traverse tight turns. In other words, it’s a perfect trip filled with roads to enjoy a corvette on…if you know how to fucking drive. My belly fire began not 2 miles onto highway 80 when some jack-hole in a brand new corvette was driving in the fast lane at 60 miles per hour. Later, a different corvette was traveling 55 in the middle lane, and then a few miles later a third, older corvette was in the right lane. There is no reason to define this third corvette’s speed because no corvette should ever be driven in the slow lane unless it is exiting or on fire. As the trip continued, no less than a half dozen other corvettes were seen by my wife and me traveling at absurdly low speeds and being driven as though they were RV’s, not high performance sports cars. This is maddening to me, and if the corvette had feelings, I would claim this is car abuse. Corvettes, I can tell you, as an owner, are meant for only one main thing; speed. Perhaps a little dose of handling as well, but other than that, the only purpose the car exists is to go fast. Yes, it has a few nice creature comforts like satellite radio, a monstrous sound system and seat warmers, but most of those were only added this model year and none of them, individually or cumulatively are what define the corvette as a luxury vehicle. A Cadillac (which my wife drives) is a luxury vehicle in the traditional sense; it comes with plush seats, DVD players, seat coolers AND warmers, leg room, a quiet ride, a smooth ride, more navigational and recreational options than one person could ever use and enough interior storage space to house a dismembered human body (or so I’ve heard). The new Corvettes are the nicest I have ever been in and even with that, they are generously described as being comfortable but not roomy, not cramped but certainly not spacious and not loud, but certainly not quiet. The Corvette is built for speed, agility and handling, not weekend trips Bakersfield. This brings us to the issue of car abuse; having driven corvettes for many years I know what I call the “contented hum” of my car; my last Corvette had it and so does my current one; it is a moan that only a great engine can make and it only makes the moan when it (the car) is as close to happy as an automobile can be. All mechanics and gear heads know exactly the sound I am describing; it is the automotive equivalent of an orgasm and my Corvette only begins to experience such joy at 80 miles per hour; that’s when the contented hum begins. To not use your Corvette for open road bursts of high speed or to pass some nit wit going 65 in the fast lane or to beat that yellow light is to abuse your car. It’s akin to owning a working dog like my German shepherd and not making sure he runs and works both his body and mind daily. Perhaps more perplexing to me is why idiots buy Corvettes in the first place. There are plenty of status symbol cars of equal or even greater stature in similar price ranges. The one thing that makes the Corvette stand out is its performance, and most people are not even using the car for that purpose! Why not just hire a maid and tell her to take a nap all day? In the end, America is still a mostly free country and you can do whatever the hell you want, including being a complete asshole on the road. There’s nothing I can do about all of the idiot Corvette owners that don’t know how to drive their cars the way their meant to be driven other than apologize for them to the rest of you. I can ask this of this of my fellow Corvette owners, though; stop embarrassing yourself and me. At least have the decency to drive faster than most people on the road. Watching you get passed by a 1985 Fiero is just shameful. Drive in the middle lane, just slightly faster than the flow of traffic and do your part to not destroy what’s left of the reputation of one of the greatest American cars ever assembled.
|
||