The Power and the Money

Helicopters are cool!

  Okay, so you're an accidental small businessman, who started an air-conditioning company in South Florida that did much better than you ever expected.  You save your money and set up a good life for your wife and daughter.  Then what do you do?

It's obvious.  You buy a helicopter.  Of course, that's predicated on knowing how to fly one, but that's why God created the U.S. Army.  Or barring that, flight school.

They are a lot of fun.

Here's my cousin helping my wife into her seat.

If you have $120,000 to spare, your house is paid off, and your kids' college education is provided for, I can't think of a better purchase than a used four-seat helicopter. Recommended. My wife approves.

I want one!

  Yes, it is an environmental atrocity.  Sure, the purported safety of all the extra power exists only in my imagination.  Indeed, while quite comfortable, the cupholders are in a weird place and the dashboard looks kind of cheap.  And it's noisy as hell.

But it is fun to drive, and that growl makes up for any and all inadequacies you might have.  Would it really be a problem to get a child-safety-seat in and out of the back?  The front seats fold way forward.  Hell, people, I'm under forty, recently married, and we don't drive enough for it to cause an appreciable increase in our gasoline consumption over, say, the Fusion hybrid or a Prius.  And it isn't a convertible.  Plus, my wife loved driving it around Maine last weekend.  So it wouldn't be that pathetic.  Would it?

I really am wondering about those child safety seats in a two-seater.  Hmm.

Cars of Februaries past

  After World War 2 ended, pent-up consumer demand meant that the auto manufacturers could pretty much sell whatever crap their factories could churn out.  It took, in fact, four years for the carmakers to start selling new products incorporating all the technological advances of the Depression and war years. 

Oldsmobile kicked it off with the restyled Futuramic Rocket 88.  It included the Hydramatic automatic transmission and a brand-new V-8 engine.  Now, neither was new.  Olds introduced the automatic transmission in 1940 and it had been building V-8’s since 1932, but the two things hadn’t been put together in a designed-from-the-chassis up vehicle.  In addition, the Rocket V-8 was the first overhead-valve design, allowing the engine to take up much less space and producing less vibration when accelerating.  It also had an AM radio that could sorta kinda be heard with the top down at cruising speed maybe if you had lots of imagination. 

My father, therefore, wanted one.  But they were hard to find in February of 1949.  Yet the above pic from 1949 shows that he got one.  (Well, actually the Rocket 76 with the Big Six engine.) Only wanting is not having.  How did he make that leap? 

Cars

 So I was just in Washington on business.  But I managed to get in some fun, visiting the Auto Show on Saturday evening.  Very cool.  In one sign of the recession, they have put all of the spokesmodels in more clothes than is usual. 

Here's the car I want.

Here's the car I don't want, but would feel very patriotic to have.

Here's the car I really want, but can't possibly justify.  As in, its existence.  On any level.

And here's the car I really really want.  It even has a five-point safety belt and a racing roll bar, which I'm sure would make my wife much happier about spending $39,990 on a tricked-out death machine.

What I'm going to get, however, will probably be either a Mini Cooper Clubman S or the Honda Insight.  Unless I think of something better.  What car do you want?

“The much reported decline of gardening”

It seems that somebody shares my former opinion of gardening in American life. In today's Slate magazine:

As historian Kenneth Jackson notes in his book Crabgrass Frontier, the shift to largely indoor living, accompanied by the much-reported decline of gardening and encouraged by everything from air conditioning (often now needed because houses seem to lack shade cover from trees) to front porches being replaced by garages, has left yards — when they even exist — curiously empty. “There are few places as desolate and lonely as a suburban street on a hot afternoon,” he writes.

I haven't anything to add, overlooking a very urban street on a cold and rainy morning.

Mummery!

Remarkably few people (okay, one person) wondered why Imperial Stormtroopers had occupied downtown Philadelphia.  So I'll tell you.  It was the Fancies of Mummers Day.

I'll turn the floor over to Amma.  "It's sort of a white people's Carnival.  And since it's cold, they can make more creative costumes because they don't have to be concerned with, you know, battling the heat with nakedness."  And to continue the parallel, the fancies are sort of like Carnival bands, kinda sorta not really, only that Mummers tend to be older and fatter as well as paler than your typical Carnival reveler.  Which makes it a good thing that they wear more clothes.

Boring serious grown-up types have asked me to put the rest of the revelry below the fold.