There was an article in the Times recently about how the original Volkswagen Beetles are alive and thriving in Mexico, even though they have nearly disappeared from the rest of the world. The article warmed my heart.
My first new car was a 1964 VW sedan and it was red. I loved that car. It cost me a dollar a pound ($1600) and was worth every cent.
It had its foibles, the major one being an inability to keep the cabin temperature warm enough to support life on anything approaching a cold winter day.
In snow it would plow straight ahead and was nearly unstoppable. But if the engine being over the rear wheels gave it great traction it left the front end a bit light. Translated: you could always GO but you couldn’t always TURN.
I did have one time where I was alone and stuck in a bit of snow, so I put it into low, got out of the car to push it from behind while the wheels turned slowly in low gear, then ran alongside to hop back into the driver’s seat once I had it out of the drift. (Try that maneuver with your Land Rover!)
For a long time I was a fan of the brand, owning two beetles, one squareback sedan, two regular minivans, and one camper at various times. Then the cars’ engineering and quality control began to falter, the dealers disappeared one by one, and eventually I quit Volkswagen altogether.
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In the ‘60s and ‘70s VW had the very best ad campaign. A sampling follows.
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Former president Bonespurs has stepped in it again. File this under “Rules, Schmules! Those are for suckers.” I’m talking about the recent incident at Arlington National Cemetery.
All that was asked of him and his entourage was that they respect the part of the cemetery that they were visiting and not take photos or videos to be used politically. They couldn’t manage this simple request. It was not possible for them to be thoughtful and respectful for even a few moments.
No surprises here. Gang of Thugs, n’est-ce pas?.
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I found this beautiful image in a YouTube video slideshow about the battle at Little Big Horn. Nothing about where it came from or who produced it was identified. I couldn’t let it go. I thought it deserved to be shared.
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Our recreation center (the “gym”) has been closed for nine days now for its annual cleaning and doing repairs. The managers seem to be doing a first rate job, and during the rest of the year if something breaks it is fixed within a day or two. It is also a very clean space and somehow … in some magical way .. it doesn’t smell of sweat. It’s like there are several hundred hidden bottles of Febreeze firing off on a regular basis.
Of course, the building being closed means that all of my conditioning has gone to hell and my body is returning to its default appearance, which is much like that of this famous character from Star Wars.
One of the truths of aging is that once you reach your body’s own tipping point the numbers become sort of awkward. On a hard workout day you might improve 0.5% in strength and/or aerobic capacity. Take a day off and you drop 75%. I know, depressing, isn’t it? It’s Sisyphus and his rock all over again.
(The statistics quoted here are my own, made up by my very own imagination and although they may actually be true, that would be unlikely)
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BREAKING NEWS THIS VERY LABOR DAY ABOUT THE VERY THING I ALREADY TALKED ABOUT
Because of a tougher market for their vehicles, especially EVs, it is possible that Volkswagen may need to close some of its plants in … not the UK … not France … not the USA … but Germany! This has never occurred before, not in all of VWs 87 year history.
I have a message for the company: Bring back the 1964 Beetle at $1600 and I will be the first in line at the showroom. I don’t care if my feet freeze in the winter and electric tricycles are passing me on the highway. I want to go retro in my auto choices.
Give me a car:
- Where I can’t see the hood at all when I’m driving.
- Where there is little or no room for luggage.
- Where A/C doesn’t exist and never has
- Where I sit so low I can peer under semi-trailers from the driver’s seat
And, dammit, I want a car that floats!
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There was a period of time, from 1969-1971, when I did all that I could to win the war in Viet Nam. I was largely unsuccessful, and at least part of the difficulty was being stationed in Omaha, Nebraska, which was 8557 miles from Saigon. Some of my frustrations led me into bad habits, like listening over and over to this Creedence Clearwater Revival tune with the volume knob turned toward what the room and my inner ears should not have been asked to bear.
A righteous tune for sure, and at the time it seemed written for me. I took some comfort there.
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Little Home In The Valley 
1969 was my first new car, $1900, red. Many miles between SDSU, Marty mission and St. Paul MN. Only hit the ditch once due to understeer…
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what was the car, Jerry?
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