Let's talk Jaguars. Not the team, not the cats. The cars, people. The. Cars.

What do you get when you combine one amusement park, multiple drivers including one very excited car-loving blonde and a bunch of sleek new Jaguars?

 Answer?  A whole lot of fun. Also called The Jaguar ALIVE Driving Experience.
  It wasn't easy to find my way into the closed park. Thank goodness a Jaguar passed by me slow enough to follow. We made a nice little parade. My XKR following his XF.
 The check-in at the hospitality suite was quick and painless, and soon we were ushered into the outside tent (drizzly weather had just stopped) for an introduction to the vehicles, prices, models, features, all the stuff a brochure would tell you more succinctly than I.  Check it out here.

 Next up was a quick talk about Jaguar Technology, like Dynamic Stability Control, AWD and three separate driving modes, plus the one no one wanted to hear about.... the Automatic Speed Limiter. But talk wasn't enough. You have to drive it to feel it. There were car choices of the XF and XJ, both with AWD.
I teamed up with my new Jag loving pal, Tyrone and we got to run through some hazards in different modes, testing the accident avoidance features. There was a slippery hill, a skidding turn, a bumpy road and some twists and turns. All fun, and in the extra long XJLR, it was a luxurious way to enjoy backseat driving, unless I'm driving, then hold onto your cucumber water!

 Tyrone said that last year at the same event there was more driving, both on the track and around town,  and more cars. Later we learned that due to some sort of internal costs things had been cut back. I wondered if anyone ever tried or succeeded in stealing a car from the event— then I wrote a story in my head where someone did.

We made our way to the next tent for JAGUAR DYNAMICS, where we were able to drive two cars, XKR and XFR all 2014 models. I drove the XKR coupe.  It was pretty cool to hear, "OK. Now floor it! Pedal to the ground!" instead blue lights and sirens. That was one smooth trip from 0 to 60, and a few heart pounding turns back to the tent.

Where I went along for a two-fer ride in the XFR with Tyrone at the wheel first.

This is my face after he told me he gets his "ya-yas" out by driving race cars every weekend. It was probably also his face when I drove one-handed and got yelled at by the instructor.

This is the dash and the backseat. I love the two tone interior and clean dashboard.

By the way, no one had to tell Tyrone to put the pedal to the floor.

 Next up was the one we were both waiting for: PERFORMANCE and a bevy of F type convertibles to choose from. ( it's what's under the hood that will really make the difference.)
*From Jaguar site:

YOUR F-TYPE

There are four models in the F-TYPE range. While each offers its own distinctive characteristics, all are equally at home on mountain switchbacks, on the highway or in the city.
The F-TYPE is designed to deliver pure driving pleasure.
The F-TYPE S adds greater power and sophisticated suspension technologies for increased balance and performance.
The F-TYPE V8 S Convertible provides exotic-car performance and greater levels of dynamic capability and control.
The F-TYPE R Coupe delivers supercar levels of performance combined with advanced dynamic technologies for the ultimate driver focused experience.

Most impressive non-performance feature? The z-fold bootless roof. I drive a convertible, but mine has a boot and the roof takes a little more than 12 seconds to go up or down. Not in this baby. Course, mine is also a bit larger... Here. Hold my purse. Leave the golf clubs at home.

 WHEW. That was awesome. Then it was back inside for goodie bags and snacks.
Of course, they had to pull me away from this beauty.

Yes, You're seeing the JAGUAR XKRS GT.
 Here she is up close.

Don't get your hopes up. There will only be 25 of them released in the USA. You will probably never see one in person, and definitely not be allowed to lean all over the spoiler.

Thank you JAGUAR ALIVE. I had a wonderful day on the track, enjoyed meeting new people, and learning what's new for this brand that in my opinion NEVER went out of style.

 Hey, this has been on my Christmas list since I was two.

 Are you listening Santa?

Do I Have It All Backward? Or Am I Just a Planner?

Growing up, my parents didn't use the word, "planner." They used the word "dreamer."

After quite a few years of seeing my plans come halfway true (there is this thing about you wanting something to happen.. more than you actually trying to make that thing happen.)
 And there's the whole, not now, later part of the equation.
But, it's true. I am a dreamer.

It's not a bad thing. It's another good thing.

 I have a room in my house that is all blues and whites, along with three crates of accessories in the attic on the same theme, because one month a long time ago, I had the idea that I would decorate an entire house in just hues of blues and whites one day.
( I still believe I will.)

I have a file drawer dedicated to torn-out design mag pages, brochures from flooring, tile and paint stores, my own sketches and even three designer house plans. Whenever we'd buy a new house, I'd start a notebook on all changes needed to make each room perfect. I kept the pages as I accomplished each update.
( In the current house, a place I have the lived the longest EVER as an adult, each room has been done over twice- some three times.)
That means... I need a project.

Beach property. Preferably low maintenance: condo or townhome.

Fits the blue and white theme, right?
I already found some cool ideas- like this:

and this- which is the same porch couch my Grandma had

 Of course, I like some crazy stuff too, like garage door walls:

and a hanging bed..

 but with a smaller space, and all that time outside doing all the things I love... am thinking the most important things I will be concentrating on are:

 and buying a toy like this to drive around and enjoy it all:

go ahead, call me a dreamer. I dare you.

Need a new car? Let me save you some time.

Thumbing through an old copy of Car and Driver in a waiting room, I read an article by John Phillips that basically stole all my reasons for reading car magazines. Well, some of them anyway.

 I frequently read passages of car descriptions out loud to whoever's home, as I think the writing is extraordinary. My fav interactive mag is Winding Road. I talk about it here.

The Phillips article left me chuckling... funny enough to make me rip out the page. Sorry, next dude who wanted to finish that article on Cash for Clunkers.

So, because I want to save you a few hours of research in your car purchase situation, here are a few insider views on cars you may want to avoid..or not. Compliments of John Phillips at Car and Driver.

Of a BMW 3-series’ shifter: “As slick as the jumpsuits worn by the Captain & ­Tennille.”

Of the Pontiac Aztek: “A body that resembles Janis Joplin’s during her most devoted heroin years.”

Of the Hummer H2: “A professional tailgater’s vehicle that can be driven strictly by feel and sound, with road rage offered as standard equipment.”

Of an Oldsmobile Custom Cruiser: “It should have been called the Emetic because the body motions will induce the sort of vomiting necessary to save the lives of recently self-poisoned persons, namely this vehicle’s buyers on or around the date of their third payment.”

Of the Daewoo-built Pontiac LeMans:“Sufficiently awful that it will cause you to abandon your family and open a souvenir shop in Tucumcari.”

Of the Chrysler Concorde, whose front wheels intruded on the footwells: “The dead pedal’s position will suit those who have recently received a prosthetic left leg made in Somalia.”

Of the Plymouth Prowler’s stiff ride: “Great car if you enjoy viewing the passing landscape in moiré patterns.”

Of the Chrysler Crossfire’s similarly unyielding ride: “Very much like an epileptic seizure, except you unfortunately remember every single detail afterward.”

Of the Geo Metro convertible: “All the structural integrity of hollandaise sauce atop filet of eel.”

Of an early Porsche 911 Turbo: “A particularly spirited drive in the hills will necessarily be followed by a week of prunes and Quaker Oats.”

Of a Renault Le Car (one of my first reviews): “Guaranteed to end your social life and lead to a lifetime of bed-wetting interrupted only by savage bouts of window peeping.”

Of an Alfa Romeo Spider: “With steering this sloppy, expect to crash minutes after departing the showroom, although the car will likely self-immolate or rust into fine red dust before it can truly maim you.”

Of the first Oldsmobile Bravada: “I memorized the rollover warnings on the visor and performed every banned maneuver in hopes of wadding this rebadged armadillo into a metallic pellet that could be readily gathered by a pooper-scooper.”

Of the Bugatti EB110: “Exuding all the charm of an industrial air conditioner, it nonetheless will remain rare because no one will want one, no one can afford to maintain one, and the company’s likely swan dive into receivership won’t leave enough cash to buy an industrial air conditioner.”

Of the Bugatti Veyron: “It won’t enhance your sex life because it causes all of the blood to rush to your head.”

Of the GMC Typhoon: “Less a typhoon than a tsunami of hurry-up engineering guaranteed to leave in its wake a tidal wave of shrapneled valves, rods, cam lobes, and neighbors who finally feel it’s safe to let their kids out again.”

Of the Daewoo Nubira: “Like a George Foreman grill but greasier.”

Of a Caterham 7: “Like driving a rural-route mailbox into which vandals occasionally toss lit cherry bombs that first deafen and then somehow induce pneumonia.”

Of the Dodge Shadow: “Who would have thought that someone could create a car guaranteed to make your wife shout, ‘Wow, my mother was right!’ ”

Of a Ford Bronco: “It’s like a morbidly obese NFL defensive lineman with 14 concussions and 12 knee operations and his 42nd birthday a week off.”

Of the Factory Five Roadster: “In the rain, it exhibited all the poise of a Zamboni on the Rubicon Trail.”

Of the Merkur XR4Ti: “It looks like a ­geothermal event bulging up through the tarmac.”

Of an early Maserati Quattroporte: “The dash and its attendant control layout resemble a trailer park following an Oklahoma ­tornado.”

Of the Daihatsu Rocky: “One of the few cars apparently capable of simultaneously summoning dive, squat, yaw, understeer, oversteer, a trade deficit, acid reflux, impotence, and a military coup in Ecuador.”

Of the cockpit smell in a Hyundai Pony: “A curious mixture of wet dog, WD-40, and 
liquid Maalox.

My son is finally ready to drive, but am I?

He was that little once, just a lot blonder. I still imagine him like that sometimes, when I glance over and see him sprawled across the entire 7 foot long couch, when I watch him eat an whole pizza on his own, washed down with three sodas and followed by a bowl of ice cream... even then, I can still see his baby side. He is his mother's child. And as two Aries, we get it. I mean we get IT.
 So, I know what he wants ... usually. And was a bit concerned when he wasn't chomping at the bit to drive. I mean, I have a HOT CAR.

Who wouldn't want to drive it? ;-)

So, I  took him to get his driver's permit, a few weeks after he turned fifteen. That's the rule in Georgia. He had been doing some parking lot driving, some pullthecarout  of the garage stuff, but no road work.
It started then. There was a log we were supposed to fill out, an instruction manual, a lot of what appeared to be MOMMY homework.. uh, no thanks. I got my license, paid my tickets, er, dues.
 This should be on you, I told him. So, after a few days, a few close calls in traffic, a half bottle of Xanax.. he wasn't driving so much.
I waited to see when he'd ask. He didn't. I waited when school let out, to see if he'd want to take the lessons at school. He didn't . I watched his friends get their licenses, enjoyed seeing the neighbor girl do her mom's last minute pre-dinner oops  shopping, and thought of all the places I could send my son.

So, he's taking driving lessons, from a stranger. A cute old Brit, actually. Who reprimanded me for speeding into the driving school parking lot, a turn we ALMOST missed.
He says in his sweet English accent, "That was a lovely two wheeled turn, there. And you're bringing HIM to driving lessons?"
I laughed. "Well, one of us has to know how to drive now. Aren't you glad it will be him?"

Next week, the boy rides one on one with another stranger, then it's my turn. Rut- ro, Scooby.

This is why I speed.

Tom says it's a testicular pleasure. And while, as a woman, I can't quite get on board with that reason, I cannot deny the sexual reference, nor my need for speed. Maybe it's the pleasure it brings me, when the driving fast is combined with the illegality of it. It's like sex- but not like this kind of sex. It's like all the best parts of sex: the power, the control, the excitement, the pleasure, the adrenaline rush, the possibility of getting caught, the newness every time, the rise in blood pressure, the release, the chance to do it all over again.
Just please don't tell the 15 yr old who is vying for his learner's permit this week.

On my FACEBOOK page, I linked an small speeding article written by the talented and amazing Tom Chiarella from Esquire in a section about minor violations... why we do them and what's the cost? Read it, read the whole magazine, for good ness sake and sure, if you want? Friend me.

Frankly, I know I speed more than is necessary. I'm usually not doing it because I'm late, except for that time my pedicure ran over and I almost missed my plane to London, and then I compounded the speeding indiscretion with driving solo in the HOV lane. What the hell.. in for a dime, in for a dozen, I say. I wasn't stopped for either. And they held the plane for me.

I used to drive according to whatever was on the radio. Even now, I find myself cruising along minding all regulations when the Spa channel is on, but when I twist the dial to garage rock or alternative and hair band satellite stations.. all bets are off.

I have my favorite speed spots. I know where the potholes are and where the Sheriff tucks his long white car in the bushes. I know a nice long stretch of smooth blacktop from Atlanta to Myrtle Beach where 110 feels like 40 and a curving road on the way south where I can pass car after car after car even if the lines look like doubled yellow.
I have learned to turn the music down and appreciate instead the growl of the engine, the whine and shudder of downshifting gears, the blast of air in my face and the whipping of hair against bare shoulders as I'm slammed back in my seat.

Driving a car you can't even buy yet.

Yes I did. Check it out under LINDA SANDS AROUND TOWN
over there... to your right. No your other right.
or geez
just click here.

LA Auto Show. Or, More Reasons to Love California.

I used to live in California. I love California. Every quirky bit of it.
You know the way I keep trying to love Florida? I am the same way trying to unlove California.

I spent the best years of my life in that state, felt like two or three lives by the time I left, and maybe the only reason I still love it so much is that when I left the sunny, happy, pretty people of CA, I moved to NewfuckingHampshire. To a small little nothing town where we had four seasons: Winter, Mud, Bug and Humid, where WE were the pretty people. Where, yeah, we lived like kings in a big ass house with our own stone wall and creek and forest, but the only retail store within an hours drive was- getreadyfor it- WalMart.
*sigh*
So, yes. California loomed large in my memory, with the beauty of its beaches, its non- existant bugs and humidity, its skinny white teethed people, abundance of organic food, yoga studios, starlets and decaf nonfat cappuccinos, before anyone else was doing it. California had it all.
And every year, they have this: THE LOS ANGELES AUTO SHOW.
Just another reason for me to miss CA.

Ths new electric Mini Cooper will be there. THE MINI E.
A car ONLY people in California will be able to lease for a mere $850/ month. (gas powered Mini's lease for about $350/mo on a 2 year lease)
There are a few particulars in the lease though:
Restrictions on the locations where the Mini E can be kept and charged will also be included in the leases, reports Luxevelocity. Mini policy will allow "only lockable garages or similar buildings" to serve as home bases or power stations for the car. Special maintenance requirements and fees will also apply, but are only revealed upon agreement to the lease terms. But of course, after all, this is California.

And if I still lived in California? You can bet your ass I'd be driving one of these:
As it is, I'll have to wait until March of 2009 for the concept cars and the North American debut cars to make their way to another place I am trying to love: Hotlanta, GA.

Wanna go for a drive with me?

Turn up the speakers and grab the wheel. Northern Italy never looked so good.

Got a nice car. Can't find premium gas. Is this the 70's?

Okay. That's it. I will vote for whichever candidate can promise me premium gas in my little Georgia town.
I feel like the fairy tale guy that went to sleep under the tree and woke up in the disco era.
WTF?
I thought we had the gas, we just wanted our wonderful citizens to pay out the ass for it. Which I was willing to do, thinking of all the cars that WOULDN'T be on the road. But some folks think it is more than "political", more than greed.
In Nashville they say..
The Southeast is still facing gasoline supply shortages caused by storm-related refinery shutdowns on the Gulf Coast. Drivers watching their gauges are have been finding shuttered stations and dry pumps. Ahmard Hall, a fullback with the Tennessee Titans, calls it "really ridiculous." Hurricane Ike shut down or reduced work at more than a dozen refineries in coastal Texas, an area that accounts for about 20 percent of the nation's gas and diesel production. And the supply situation won't improve until the refineries boot back up and start filling the empty pipelines.In the meantime, gas station owners are selling whatever shows up from their suppliers -- be it regular, premium or super unleaded. A Raleigh, North Carolina-based gas station operator says "You take what you can get."

Around here, in the Atlanta suburbs I had to go to 6 stations to find premium gas last Saturday and today I saw lines for regular unleaded and closed stations up and down a busy 6 mile route.
Word is we'll have gas by Friday or Saturday... guess I'll have to wait and see.
Wish there was a website/ phone number to call that would post current supply and stock.
It just seems silly driving all over to try to find gas so you can drive all over.

addendum;
found premium gas at the BP station on Meadow Church at Sugarloaf

Let's talk about cars, instead of stuffy old politics, shall we?

Car and Driver lists the top 10 Most Beautiful cars for 2009. I am not going to argue with their choices, which include the beauty above: 2009 Alfa Romeo 8C Competizione. But I do think their quoting of KEATS was a bit much.
“A thing of beauty is a joy forever: Its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness.” —John Keats

I used to date a guy who drove an Alfa, also a few guys with Corvettes and Cadillacs, a few Saab owners, one motorcycle enthusiast, another with a classic Mercedes SL450 and one guy switched out new versions of classic Fiats from his Dad's garage, the way I switched out shoes.
There were more cars, I'm sure, as there were more boyfriends. But face it, some you remember better than others. And the fact that I ended up marrying a guy who couldn't care less about his ride... well, that says a shitload about him, doesn't it. And probably something about me if you want to go there.

I love my Audi TT and coming up on her 1 year anniversary, I wouldn't trade her for the world. But as I shop for potential teenager cars, I'm intrigued by what's new, and what our automakers are doing to help with costs all the way around.
I'm still hoping the kid will decide a classic car is the way to go, because a 1963 Jag is SO much prettier than a 2007 Toyota Prius.
Yeah, yeah, I know. Safety. Maintenance. Teenagers. Meh.