A few odds and ends on a morning when I just can’t think. (In my column-writin’ days, I called this Items in Search of a Column. Blast from the past!) So here goes:
When you pop the cap for the filler pipe on the Chevy Volt, guess what you see:
That’s the plug, if your monitor is lousy. I don’t have high hopes for this car. I think $40,000 is way too high a price for anyone but a tiny niche to take a chance on radical automotive technology; in some ways, I think they’d have had more luck with the Cadillac version of the Volt, unveiled as a fairly daffy concept at the auto show a couple years ago — the Converj. I could see young rich guys looking for a way to one-up their pious Prius-driving friends, and with Cadillac-branded Detroit iron, no less, and the raw numbers reflected in that group are probably about the same as those willing to pay 40 grand for a Chevy compact.
However, when it comes to selling anything to anyone, it’s been widely demonstrated that I don’t know shit. Forty thousand is the bleeding-edge price, and presumably it will fall over time. Everybody I know here leases; in the nearly six years we’ve been here, some of them are driving their third vehicle, while I’m still tooling around in my 2003 Passat wagon. (I got the pink slip, daddy.) Lessees don’t look at sticker prices. The car is very cool, too. This one was parked outside the TED conference and available for a long examination, and I’ll admit I was smitten, but I don’t know how much of that was being charmed by the Volt badge with the little lightning bolt.
The woman from GM said they’ll start rolling out in November in the West and South, but won’t be sold around here until the snow melts. That is an ominous statement, don’t you think? Well, fingers crossed. One question I haven’t see answered: Assuming you use car like it’s designed to be used, for short hops around town, recharging it every night in your garage — how much will it bump your electricity bill? I forgot to ask the spokesbrain.
Today’s OID story, from the police blotter: Two jagoffs steal a Meals on Wheels truck, which they then use as a decoy to assault an elderly couple, and hijack their car. This town. I swear.
OIM (Only in Macomb): Yet another Münchausen-by-proxy lunatic, this one working it for cash. Mom shaves boy’s head, drugs his applesauce and tells everyone he has leukemia. Which, as this cases usually go, works until it doesn’t. Charges pending.
I don’t know how I missed it the first time around. A new phrase for your economical fashion vocabulary: Pop of color. Google returns 21 million hits. Twenty-one million fashionistas can’t be wrong. (Excise fashionista from your toolbox at the same time. Very dumb word that replaced a perfect one — clotheshorse.)
With that, I’m commencing the weekend. My work week starts on Sundays anyway, so today is Nance Day. Enjoy yours. I think I’m headed to the farmer’s market to buy a brussels-sprout sword.