longtooth

Warp 2 was not out of the question at certain times 'Camino. When called for.

After my wife died, I went out once more into the world propelled by my Firehawk. I had no idea what I was looking for and I found it in abundance. I once ran from Doylestown, PA to Levittown, PA on twisting roads (some 17 or 18 miles perhaps) in 15 minutes when 'she' called. I was 45 years old then. I felt 18. Middle-age crazy. I must have unconsciously been trying to be f*cking Knight Rider or something. I got hurt, they got hurt. They gave as good as they got and my renaissance 2nd and 3rd childhoods passed into history. Now I'm restless and soon to be 53. Maybe one last shot before I 'retire'.

For a little while it was Harleys parked out in front of that same place. The cast of characters might've changed over the months but it was all about styling, Zymol, idle chatter over mimosas or bloody marys or Heineken. I can hear that old familiar siren-song luring me toward the rocks for one last look.

Oh you child. (I'm just bustin' 'em on ya) 40. Hmmm. It's the Hallmark Greeting card milestone. It can be mostly unobtrusive. I doubt that many would say that you even look 40. It gets interesting when you reach mid-decade and begin to see how others see you. It reaches it's zenith when you begin to try to recapture what you think it was that you were, what you aspired to be when you were a mere stripling lad of 20. I've revealed too much of what the last decade looked like for myself. Suffice to say, it'll be interesting. I hope you get one. A Z28 that is. The rest sort of falls into place.

I've had time to rethink my misgivings re:the huge HP and torque numbers for this thing. On second thought it'd be the ultimate posers car (that'd be me in my old age). I'd take my girl over to New Hope, PA and stake-out an outside table at the Havana restaurant, have some drinks and admire people as they admired my car... Make it Mad Max black.

That kind of HP would give me night-terrors. Most likely I'd be killed driving it. Even so... Paul Newman continued racing well into his senior-hood. I know my reactions have been slowed by time and I'm no Paul Newman.

Pep Boys is devolving in their selling of electric mini-bikes and such garbage. Sad to see it. They were once kept honest when they were in competition with a local chain known as Penn-Jersey in Southeastern Pennsylvania. That was perhaps twenty or thirty years ago. That being said a behind-the-counter tech once saved my bacon on a Sunday afternoon at 5:45 (15 minutes prior to closing) in spinning-off the alternator pulley on my '87 Fiero GT. Completely saved the day for me as the nut was rounded over.

Thanks, but aaargh. Like watching a loved one die. Yet it is fascinating to see at the same time. Poignant as an elephant graveyard. I appreciate your effort in bringing this to my attention PCS...

At any rate it'll be some time before you see yourself coming down the street. Even if one were to 'BumbleBee' theirs. ;-) Waiting to see what SLP can cook up.

Homemade crab meat stuffed ravioli in a Tuscan vodka sauce. Piquant.

This is why I've been anticipating Camaro for so long. Was thinking back to Summer '02 when I picked up the Firehawk at Peruzzi Pontiac in Fairless Hills, Pennsylvania. At the time I was looking at a slew of SS Camaros, WS6s, Z28s. There was a real selection of turn-key hotrods in town. Not having a Firebird derivative available this time around hurts a little but an optioned SS should soothe my qualms when I first spot one for sale.

Then let it be California's problem. Place a fence around that State to keep them in

Housing a countless number of crimi-grant border-jumping lawn-care service people, nannies and restaurant workers. Even going so far as to send the offspring of crimigrants to Cal-ee-fornia's schools and stitching them up after the obligatory knife fights and Saturday night brawls in the emergency rooms.

Insolvent and perpetually aflame. A novel combination if ever there was one.

No cars were built there just a myriad of parts. Doors handles, encapsulated glass side-windows, manual and electric seat adjusters. Many of the parts going into these sub-assemblies were manufactured there as well. Raw materials in one end of the building and finished product out the other. Also we did plating there. Vacuum metalized plastics. Phosphate-coated metal parts for functional items across all GM's lines of vehicles. Chrome plating of die-cast parts. The crown-jewel near the end was our powder-coat paint system. We painted parts also for Harley Davidson in York, PA. Just as in the JPL across the street there were unsung heroes working there. I was privileged to have worked with some brilliant engineers, draftsmen, tool & die men/women and a slew of hourly folks that knew what they were doing. Far better people than me were put out to pasture before their time through no fault of their own. A few were scattered to the winds and wound up working in other GM facilities being allowed to share their considerable gifts and in Doraville and Wilmington our paths crossed once more. In Wilmington, DE where I was last employed (they're down until the 23rd of Feb. then coming back to build 4.5 cars per hour on one-shift) the contract staff of engineers looks like a composite of the global-polyglot melting pot that seems fitting given the 'modern' profile of manufacturing. We no longer have a vast pool of home-grown skill as it pertains to engineers. Lots of business types for sure that lack for common-sense and the basic know-how of manufacturing. Bill Gates has gone before Congress to implore there be more H1-B visas granted. The world is eating our lunch folks. Makes me glad that I am old. If there were a symbolic baton of sorts to hand-off to those coming up behind me this would be about the time the transfer would occur. But there is nothing. Nothing but the sound of 1.2 billion hungry Chinese and a similar number of Indian and Pakistani workers in a chorus as locusts swarming a field of soybeans. Efficient, remorseless and focused on removing the last of what was American preeminnence in manufacturing post World War II. [edit] The last parts made there were electric seat-adjusters in June of 1998.

Life is about being off-topic. I went with my Grand Mother that August to the farewell. She'd worked there as a stereotypical "Rosie the Riveter" passing the 'torch' to me in '75. I went exploring off of the tour route and found a piece of tooling, a cut and pierce die, from a program that spanned over 30 years right where I'd left it in August 1995 almost exactly 3 years earlier. The people, that place was and remains a large part of me. When it was thriving it was American ingenuity and manufacturing prowess at it's finest. Seems that I'm doomed to wander the Earth remembering this and shoving it in people's faces all of the time. Forgive me please.

No wonder you've ulcers.

I'd make the argument of "W" (also known as GM10) as being the last time GM attempted to capture the lightning-in-a-bottle it had found in '79 with the X-Car program and the success it had recently (at that time) tasted with the high volume Chevy Celebrity. Still see a number of Celebrities running around out there and the Pontiac sister-ship the 6000. The STE was a personal favorite of mine. Loved the piquant and flatulent sound of the STE exhaust-note. The Fisher Body plant in New Jersey where I was employed at the time made encapsulated glass, seat-adjusters, tavern-styled door handles and a plethora of decorative and functional moldings for the slew of W-Cars which GM built in the late '80s and early '90s. By the time the 6th Generation W/Grand Prix and associates were coming into existence my home-plant was nearly shuttered. It survived as a temporary shelter/warehouse for the thousands upon thousands of electric seat adjusters built out in the waning days of it's life span. GM's Fisher Body (Ternstedt Division) plant on Parkway Avenue in Ewing Township, New Jersey: Born 1938 Died 1998. Leaving behind many family members and a host of people in that Community to remember 'her'. During World War II, the Plant became part of Eastern Aircraft and built the Grumman Avenger torpedo-bomber (ironically, an aircraft of this type was flown during that war by George Herbert Walker Bush, our 41st President) employing nearly 6000 souls at it's zenith. Lest we forget, the Grand Prix (W body) was Motor Trend's COTY. So, in 21 model years since, see how much the Industry's evolved. Lots of friends and relatives had the 5th Generation Grand Prix. In spite of me. My brother-in-law traded-in his '86 T-topped beauty GP for the '89 coupe with a digi-dash (which failed 3 weeks out-of-the-box) and kept it for 8 years. It survives in the capable hands of his youngest child (replacement dash still functioning through 19 frigid Northern Pennsylvania near Wellsboro) Winters. Now it is a question of whether GM and the Domestic Auto Industry survives.

My late Uncle had an XLR V done in Infrared, an '07. It is truly a kick to drive and at age 68 my Aunt finds that it has limited appeal for her ( I believe that she fears it). She gets around in her '07 DTS (also a fine ride btw) when she does venture out to go to the stereotypical seniors activities and Atlantic City, NJ. The couple was childless and I see my Aunt 3 or 4 times per month and get her vehicles serviced as needed, take her to lunch if she wishes and do the little odd-jobs she can't do for herself. Suitors for my Aunt's attention/affection have begun to come out of the woodwork as it's been 18 months since my Uncle went to his eternal reward and the 'boys' (there've been a few) all want to take the XLR out for her to keep the 'seals wet'. I guess that's what they're calling it these days. I won't even ask if she wants to sell it to me as much as I'd care to have it but she never fails to mention to me that she doesn't care to have it around any longer. In nearly the same breath though she'll say that she can still see her late-husband (my Father's younger Brother) coming up the drive in October '06 when he'd bought it from Kerbeck in Atlantic City. So I'd say that the car is something more to her than just a car. It does look great parked on her sparkling-white driveway near the freshly-cut lawn in Spring, Summer and Fall. That is how I first saw it when I transferred up from Doraville assembly late in '06. Perversely as I've gotten older I've gotten more indifferent to cars and trucks and such but that car is as a 'living' expression of temptation. I'm somewhat saddened to hear that XLR's going to be discontinued but GM needs to do what it deems wise and continue valiantly to hang on as best as it can. But the angular XLR is going to continue to remain popular within it's core constituency of those drivers that wanted a suave anti-'Vette I would guess.

Thank you all for your kind words. My sweetheart and I are now living in New Jersey right upon the Eastern edge of the United States on Long Beach Island. My home in Northeast, MD has recently (like one week ago) been leased to a woman working for the Defense Dept. in Aberdeen, MD. Now I'm a landlord and once again a gypsy though not for General Motors this time. I'm retiring from Wilmington assembly effective 03-01-2009. My sweetie works now for Bristol-Meyers-Squibb in Princeton, NJ (still commutes 110 round-trip from the shore everyday but she wanted to live at my Family's home on the shore). The only constant is change it'd seem. The shore home was mostly vacant save for 3 months during 'prime-time'. We haven't worked out the sharing portion of this arrangement for the home yet, but two of my Brothers have already rented 6 blocks away for their Summer '09 getaways. I think that I'll be liable to defray a portion o' that (talked it over with Dad and he said he'd settle with my Brothers) I may even make an honest woman out of my girlfriend this Spring provided she does not lose interest. The Shore in Winter has it's own stark grandeur. Fewer souls out and about and the local people gradually accept newcomers. Very gradually. Little snow in evidence around hear but 10 miles or so inland, there it is. But the winds excite the waves and the wind does chill. Nice to sit by the crackling fire looking off toward Europe as night draws near sipping a little wine as dinner cooks in the oven. I raise my glass to hearth and home as I hear my sweetie's car pulling into the garage...

Nearer to Marshall's Creek or say Hazleton, PA? Pennsylvania's my home State and although I've been trying to get back there, I keep missing her.

They're the cancer 'we' clamor for. The cancer many now need to survive. Vicious and insidious circle.

Best Buy is sh*tting major-brickagge as WalMart* usurps everything which Best Buy can do, only 'Wally' can do it for less. There are Koreans, Chinese, Indians, Pakistanis and Indonesians toiling through the night (so you won't have to) just to save us a few pence off of a Flat-Screen. Unemployment, still made here in America. A nephew of mine just left Circuit City after his 4-year stint came to an abrupt end. He's coming to work with my Dad and Brothers beginning Monday, January 26th... Enjoy the savings. Personally doubt if BB makes it to 2010.

A hard dose of bleak reality is like being slapped-in-the-face with a wet mackerel. Since few living today have experienced a downturn like the one we're in (a bad year for GM was selling 5.5 million units in the U.S. when I was a new-hire) prepare for this to last quite a while. Neighbor of mine and his wife just lost their home of 4 years. His leased Mercedes was taken back and his wife was loading some remnants of their life into the trunk of their 2 year old Avalon on moving day just recently. He worked for Chase in Wilmington, DE. Her red-rimmed eyes told the story where words would've failed to express the scope of the matter. As the Allied Van Lines truck pulled away with their belongings stowed on board, the wind picked up, gathering snow and last Fall's dead leaves scouring their front yard, green until mid-November, and spun upwards as an expanding vortex into the deepening indigo of twilight. The moment held for a heartbeat or two then a shower of brown and white was swept Eastward by the prevailing winds. We are all at the mercy and whim of what Society-at-large has wrought as well as being vulnerable to the winds of change. Those that will not learn from History are doomed to repeat it. Would that it were that we have been paying attention.

Thinking '66 Buick Special