The Roar of Our Engines

While the media and political hacks argued earlier this week about whether or not Chrysler's two-minute halftime Super Bowl ad starring Clint Eastwood was meant to be a veiled endorsement of President Obama, I was struck by an altogether different question: Is this really who we want to have telling us who we are?

Because so many people have seen the ad, because it is so effective and powerful, and because there's been so much chatter about it, it's worth examining it more closely. What stories does the ad evoke? What does it say about who we are? Is this really who we are? Is it who we want to be? Is this how we see ourselves? Or is it just how the Chrysler corporation wants us to see ourselves?

Many favorable responses to the ad have streamed by in my Facebook newsfeed. It has generated lots of enthusiasm. In a tweet on Sunday night, Michael Moore referred to it as a "sermon":

And Clint, the consensus is u done a good thing standing up 4 Detroit--& your sermon seemed 2 b a call 2 give O his "second half." #sellcars

The story the ad tells is one we like, one we've heard often, one we want to believe. It is optimistic in a bootstrappy kind of way. It appeals to our sense of national pride. That it's Clint Eastwood who delivers the message is in fact an important part of the message. Mr. Eastwood conjures visions of everything from Rowdy Yates in Rawhide (if you're old enough) to Dirty Harry (even if you're not old enough) to Walt Get-Off-My-Lawn Kowalski in Gran Torino (2008). He's tough. He's manly. He's in charge. If he's on your team, you feel safe, protected, secure. If he's on the other team, you're screwed.

While Eastwood is saying "we all rallied around what was right and acted as one," we see a series of black-and-white still shots of families and then we move on to color shots of families in—surprise!—cars and trucks. When he says "because that's what we do," we're watching a dad drop his son off at school. Because, you know, it would have been so much less cool for the kid to walk or take the bus. As Eastwood is saying "we find a way through tough times, and if we can't find a way, then we'll make one," all the images are of people either in vehicles or loading them. By now the viewers are eating this stuff up with a spoon. We're tough! We're determined! We can do it! Ruh!

As Eastwood asks "how do we win?" we return to footage of Dirty Harry Mr. Eastwood. We see a close-up of him as he says, "This country can’t be knocked out with one punch [mouth almost closed, teeth clenched, exuding defiance, determination, grit]. We get right back up again, and when we do, the world's going to hear the roar of our engines."

The roar of our engines. This is what the entire ad has been leading up to. We are America. Hear our engines roar. We are car people. People of the road. We have a collective love affair with the automobile. That this has been true ever since Henry Ford rolled the first Model T off the assembly line makes this a story that is readily invoked. It's one we all know deep down and by heart. We are all of us a part of this story.

Chrysler isn't just trying to sell you a car in this ad. It's reinforcing our identity as a nation of car lovers.


Perhaps, though, it is time for us to turn a corner, to go down a new road. Might we be so bold as to develop enthusiasm for other, better ways to get around? Could we call on our collective ingenuity to transform ourselves into a nation smitten with public transportation?

I lived for a brief time in Amsterdam, where you can go to a nearby train station—without ever checking a schedule—and be assured that in no more than fifteen minutes a train will be departing for any Dutch city you care to visit. And the return trip will be just as easy. It's fast, convenient, inexpensive, and even fun. I loved that. I miss that. I long for that.

Building more and better public transportation networks in and between our cities would create jobs and reduce congestion. They would be safer, less harmful to the environment, and more readily available to everyone. They would be a collective enterprise that would benefit not only those of us who need to get around but also those of us who breathe. Think of it. With a really good public transportation system, we'd need fewer auto repairs, have fewer car accidents, spend less on gasoline. Very likely even our insurance rates would go down.

Improving our public transportation could also mean a metaphorical transformation, a change in how we see ourselves. As people of the car, each of us moves around separate from everyone else. We are isolated and on our own. As a public transportation nation, we would get where we're going together. That would be a new story that would be a gift not only to ourselves but to our children and to the planet.

The Auto Bailout and a Tale of Three Cars

Here are some strings I would like to attach to the auto bailout. Instead of insisting that GM and Chrysler dramatically reduce their debt and lower workers’ salaries, let’s insist that they make cars people actually want. No amount of bailout money is going to help until they figure this one out. Come on, people, it can’t be that hard.

Focusing on the UAW and workers' wages lets Detroit off for its failure to manufacture better, more appealing cars. Moreover, lowering compensation so that it would be more comparable to that of employees of the foreign-owned manufacturers would reduce the cost of a car by approximately $800 according to the New York Times. "An extra $800 per vehicle would certainly help Detroit, but the Big Three already often sell their cars for about $2,500 less than equivalent cars from Japanese companies, analysts at the International Motor Vehicle Program say. Even so, many Americans no longer want to own the cars being made by General Motors, Ford and Chrysler" (emphasis mine).

My own experience as a car owner is a case in point. My first car was a used Dodge Omni I named Captain Quirk because it had more than its share of peculiarities. I can't remember exactly what it was I needed to do every so often under the hood to get the thing to go, but I actually acquired a small amount of car-specific mechanical prowess out of necessity. Everything started to go wrong when the odometer reached about 80,000 miles. All at once Captain Quirk became altogether unreliable.

My next car was a used Dodge Colt. I can’t even remember its name, if it even had one. It also began falling apart at about 80,000 miles. When I finally traded it in, the salesman actually laughed when he saw it. It wouldn't start in the rain -- something about a cracked distributor cap, I think. It was essentially useless. The car dealer was doing me a favor to take it off my hands.

I traded the Colt in for a brand-new 1992 Toyota Camry, which I named Claire, after a friend who had a very old Volvo that was like a member of her family. I knew right away that Claire was a car I would drive for many years and many miles. Just like my friend’s Volvo, Claire became a member of the family. When Tom and I got married, his family dressed her up as a Holstein cow (Wisconsin humor), complete with an inflated rubber glove as the udder.

I’m still driving Claire to this day. She has more than 180,000 miles on her, and the only major repair she has ever needed was to have the radiator replaced. She looks fine, she's comfortable, and she drives beautifully. She has reasonably good gas mileage. I plan to drive Claire until she falls apart beneath me. I’m hoping for another hundred thousand miles or so.

Apparently many Americans have had car-owning experiences not dissimilar to mine. Cars made by the Big Three have been a pain in the arse. Cars made by Japanese-owned companies in particular have been a pleasure to drive, whether or not we are goofy enough to consider them a member of the family.

So, Big Three, your mission is to utterly transform yourselves, inside and out and from every angle. First, build some really great cars that are safe, affordable, comfortable, fuel-efficient, user-friendly, and have plenty of eye appeal. Excise the planned obsolescence. All it ever accomplished was to teach us that you make crappy cars.

Then, hire yourselves some crack marketing wizards. Retire the names Chrysler, GM, and Ford. Just get rid of them. They’re history. All the lemons we have bought from you have left a very sour taste in our mouths that we won’t soon forget. Rebrand yourselves altogether. Come up with zippy new Japanese names, not only for the models but for the companies themselves. We’ve come to associate Japanese names with quality cars. Go with that; exploit it. There’s no trademark on the Japanese language or on Japanese names.

Finally, consider moving your base of operations to another city. Sorry, Detroit. These companies have messed up so badly that the name of the city where their products were manufactured has become synonymous with lemon.

Ultimately, if you Big Three don’t figure out how to make cars Americans want to buy, then all the bailouts in the world aren’t going to keep you from going under.

So Much for Post-Partisanship?

I don't understand why the auto bailout is unpopular with the public. It seems evident that the ramifications of allowing the U.S. auto industry to tank will be felt deeply and painfully in every nook and cranny of this nation -- and around the world -- and would be a decision deeply regretted for a long time to come.

Of course, this bailout should be handled better than the Wall Street one. Let's start with a little accountability. Please? But with good oversight, the revitalization of the U.S. auto industry could have all kinds of far-reaching positive effects: greener vehicles, the end of planned obsolescence, better fuel economy.

I'm appalled that the Senate Republicans are so crass as to be willing to let the entire world economy tank for the sake of taking a political shot at organized labor. They are unconscionable bullies. I hope they have miscalculated on a grand scale and that their enormous hubris winds around and bites them in the butt big time.
About Auto Bailout
Read the Article at HuffingtonPost

"Herbert Hoover Time"

Robert Borosage hits the nail on the head today in the HuffPost.

The UAW is being unfairly blamed for Detroit's financial difficulties. Undoubtedly, the auto industry is suffering on account of multitudinous stupidities: mismanagement, lack of vision, skyrocketing health-care costs. Not to mention the economic downturn. I heard on the radio the other day that auto sales went from $17 million to $10 million in one year. Ouch. What industry would that not hurl into crisis?

But it is absolutely fatuous for Republican senators, among them McConnell and Corker, to blame the workers. And even worse to flush the whole damn economy -- that is, the WORLD economy -- down the toilet in order to wage class warfare.

This is absolutely one of the worst outrages coming out of the U.S. Senate in an age of outrages. Corker should be impeached on the spot. This behavior is nothing short of traitorous; it betrays the trust of the American people. If the American auto industry goes under, don't think for a minute that the effects won't be felt by Corker's constituents. Along with the rest of the world.

Please, show your support for the UAW. Making them the scapegoat for Detroit's economic woes is nothing short of atrocious. The suffering this class warfare will unleash will be felt far and wide for a long time.

It's shocking that the next best hope is that Bush appears to be considering bailing out Detroit from the original $700 billion bailout package. That would be good sense, amazingly good sense, considering the source.

I hope this atrocity rears up and bites McConnell and Corker and their pals in the butt.
*raising my fist in defiance and solidarity -- forever*