Saturday morning I awoke to rain pounding the window of the condo. Not a particularly good sign, considering I was supposed to be at the Dakota County Technical College (DCTC) driving track by 7:30 AM to volunteer for the BMW Car Club of America. When I stepped out of my Mercedes at DCTC, a horizontal rain slapped my face and drenched the hood of winter jacket. I ran into the classroom building, leaping over a puddle the size of a small pond. Luckily, hot Caribou coffee awaited us inside, and my facial skin began to thaw as organized badges and forms for the drivers.
While I handed out badges, the sky began to lighten, and the rain tapered off. A red-breasted robin hopped onto the window ledge and preened his wings. The foreboding morning turned into a relatively dry, albeit very cold, day at the track. BMWs intermingled with Volkswagens and little Mazda Miatas in a dance of automotive speed. Despite the long winter, the first track day of the year heralded the first signs of spring. With only one spin-out, and plenty of coffee consumed, we considered the track day a rousing success.
My First Mercedes, aka the Smart Passion, at the DCTC Track in 2015
In the past few years I've come to love Swedish metal as much as IKEA. I struggle with how something from a foreign place can engender nearly as much excitement in me as incredible Midwestern bands like Slipknot. In particular I enjoy the Swedish band In Flames' tune "Take this Life". It's a great song to blast while tooling down the highway in a Smart car, with just a bit of irony, as the clerk at my favorite Kwik Trip reminds me weekly how I'm taking my life in my hands driving a Smart on the highway. My dream is to someday vacation in Scandinavia and check out the black metal scene there.
Today in Minneapolis I spotted a Smart ForTwo "bumblebee" (what Smart insiders call the black and yellow configuration of the tiny car.) I'm getting a lot of grief about being a tree-hugger and granola cruncher since adopting my Smart car in 2008. So I thought it was darn funny when I noticed the custom license plate of the bumblebee Smart. It read "2VEGANS". Perhaps there is some truth to the granola-crunching stereotype!
In one day five people stopped me to ask me questions about my Smart car. One at McDonald's (he just wanted to say he loves my cute car), two at Sam's Club and two at work. The people who stopped me at Sam's were driving a cool hybrid Saturn SUV. I got talking to them and discovered they live in my old trailer park. Since their mobile home has a shed instead of a garage, we were trying to figure out if they could fit a Smart cabriolet convertible in it. If they could shoehorn the Smart into the shed, they could drive a convertible in the summer and store it in the winter without paying storage fees. Not to say Smart cars aren't excellent winter vehicles. I didn't die once this winter in my Smart car, despite dire warnings from other customers at the gas station. Smart cars were actually released in Canada years before being released in the US. If Canadians can drive these tiny cars in the winter (and over 10,000 of them do), I figured the car would do just as well in Minnesota. Little did I know just how well the Smart handles in ice and snow, though, until I read about two Smarts driving the Dempster Highway across the Yukon alongside ice road semi-trucks. If you're a fan of the ice road trucking show on cable, then you have to check ice road smart driving: Ice Road Smart Driving
I am considering adding graphics to the Smart car. Not that it isn't eye-catching enough on its own, but I loved my Flaming Festiva so much that I dream of owning another flaming vehicle. While searching for Smart flame decal kits on 4smartCar.com I discovered this awesome skully Smart. 4smartCars has pics of a couple of Ed Hardy graphic Smarts like this one. I have to hand it to Ed Hardy. This guy made millions of dollars by convincing Saks to sell t-shirts with skulls and dragons on them for a hundred bucks a pop. His son Doug Hardy used to live in Minnesota and worked at the Aloha Monkey Tattoo shop in Burnsville, a few miles away from my house. Thanks to the Hardy talent, many Minnesotans are sporting artful tattoos and people around the globe are wearing cool shirts with skulls on them. I'm glad they've added a little bit of mystery to plain old t-shirts, sneakers and even Smart cars.
Life beats down and crushes the soul and art reminds you that you have one. ~Stella Adler
Although I love my Smart car, sometimes when I'm climbing an uphill freeway entrance ramp that's only a block long and my tiny 3-cylinder engine is growling, I secretly wish for a street legal race car. Now there's a car company built on the open-source software model which can help make that happen. Local Motors of Massachusetts sells the experience of building your own race car in their Phoenix facility. The cost is only about $50000, or around 3-4 Smart cars. The race car design is developed by an online community of volunteer engineers. The parts come from a partnership with Penske Automotive Group. By strange coincidence, Penske was instrumental in bringing the Smart to the US. Maybe the Rally Fighter (pictured to the left) will be my next car. A girl can dream, can't she?
Last weekend another car suddenly appeared in the driveway. My husband adopted an elderly BMW Z3. Despite being fifteen years old, it's a pretty snazzy looking ride. The Z3 is a little too flashy for me, but my husband's a stylish guy who can pull off driving a snazzy car and wearing a nice watch. (I usually wear a plastic imitation Casio watch with the words "Thank you for donating to the Humane Society!" inscribed on the band. I offered to give my husband the new one they me sent with this year's membership renewal, but he declined. I guess he's happy with his Movado.)You might think we're building a car farm down here in Farmington by the sheer number of vehicles at the house, but the Del Sol has already been sold to make room for the Z3. Two days after the Del Sol was listed on Craigslist a nice, responsible teen showed up with a cashier's check from the Credit Union to buy the car. I am just inferring he was responsible because he's a Credit Union member and I take great pride in my CU membership. The Del Sol is gone, now at home with a young guy who said his dream was owning a Del Sol. Not that long ago I was a nineteen year old with a dream of someday owning a Del Sol, and I've had the luxury of owning three. To pass the car along to a new owner, someone who fantasized about it just as I did, seems to bring things full circle. I loved every minute I spent behind the wheel of the Del Sol. You only live once, and if your dreams can be fulfilled by a mid-priced Honda with a targa top, then you should reach for the stars.
The Insurance Institute for Highway Safety rolled a Smart car in a roof test and released the results of the test with a "Good" rating for the Smart. This is somewhat comforting in case my car rolls off the road, but I'm more worried about a semi-truck accidentally driving over my car. This happened once while I was riding in a friend's car. Also, one of my former coworkers was pinned in a Toyota when a semi drove onto the hood at slow speed. I try to give semi-trucks a wide berth and avoid stretches of highway where they congregate. I'm sure they appreciate this, since they drivers probably hate having to scrape small cars off their grills.
Last weekend I rode in a benefit motorcycle ride for Home for Life, an animal sanctuary near New Richmond, Wisconsin. A fancy breakfast was donated, with croissants, a big fruit platter and coffee, of course. It's important to get the tummy and the gas tank fueled up before a ride. The sky was a robin's egg blue, the sun gentle and the road dry. When we arrived at the animal sanctuary, a couple of the dogs were taking a dip in the kiddie pools set up by the volunteers. They seemed unperturbed by forty motorcycles rumbling up to the parking lot. As I waited for the port-a-potty, a tawny rat terrier walked up to the fencing and sniffed my leg. Of course I wanted to scoop him up and bring him home. The animals at Home for Life, though, have conditions which prevent them from being adoptable. I knelt and let him sniff my palm. He gave it a good lick and wandered away, acting a bit aloof, just like my own rat terrier. I straightened and watched him settle down in the sun. A happy pup, enjoying the sunny day just as much as the motorcycle riders.
Right now I am reporting live from downtown Rosemount, where I am on my lunch break from defensive driving class at nearby Dakota County Technical College. This morning was classroom instruction. Distracted driving can get you killed. Do not use cell phones, drink coffee or allow pets or passengers to move around the vehicle unrestrained. Anything that takes your eyes off the freeway for 2 seconds can lead to you traveling the length of a football field without looking where you are going. That said, now that I've rid the Smart car of coffee cups and turned off the radio, I'm ready to hit the course for some undistracted driving challenges.
I was on the road last night with a group of pals and one friend said "Look at that weird Lincoln - it looks like an upside down boat prow." Then someone else said "It's a cow catcher!"
My newly arrived Smart ForTwo Passion coupe handles like a go-kart. Sometimes a wheel gets hung up in one of the monster potholes the Minnesota winters create here, but the tiny Smart hops forward and back onto all four wheels decisively. The ghostly lurching of the clutch-less manual transmission which was pronounced in the 2008 test model I drove is barely noticeable in my new 2009. The acceleration is adequate, sometimes even surprisingly springy at the low end. The traction control system is aggressive, taking over at the barest slip on the ice. This makes it impossible to do donuts in a snowy parking lot. The Smart prevents me from doing a lot of irresponsible things, like driving with the door ajar or grinding the starter. The car's computer is amazing, providing the types of controls that drivers like me and most 16-year-olds really need to behave responsibly. The Smart makes me feel oddly cared for, watched over as I am driving to work, encased in the Tridion safety cell. Overall, the Smart was worth the wait. Although I impetuously purchased a Mini Cooper, and it's a lovely car, the Cooper belongs with my husband. Like him, it's classy, stylish and well-built, with a wealth of electronic gadgetry. The slower and goofier Smart somehow fits a bit better with my driving style. What does this say about me? Well, my liberal arts adventure was a BA in English, not psychology, so I can hardly speculate. Glady Reign, a consultant for an automotive firm based in Detroit, says "compact cars tell people about your need for rationality and character" (Reign, 2007). A simple psychological analysis, maybe more akin to a horoscope, but something with which I feel content. Perhaps the protective features of the Smart and its frugal gas usage say something about my rationality and character. Regardless, the little go-kart is a hell of a lot of fun to drive.
The promised delivery date for my Smart car has come and gone, with no little Smart arrival. I feel I might have jinxed my chances of meeting my new Smart this year just by writing about it being delivered. After a year and a half wait for this bundle of mechanical joy, I am starting to believe it is a mirage. Even though my Smart dealership promises the car is in "in port", I'm not exactly confident. Luckily, my husband graciously traded me the keys for the Mini for his '94 Ford Probe. The Probe has an excellent sound system - a big sub with plenty of bass, an in-dash satellite radio with MP3 player, the whole enchilada. When I'm rolling in traffic listening to Shade 45 (Eminem's station on the satellite radio) the whole car thumps. It's like a cool teenage guy fascinated with electronics outfitted this car's sound system. Oh wait, my husband was a cool teenage guy when he first installed the sub. While the wait for the Smart may be long, at least I can do it in style.
Exciting events seem to pop up just when you're least ready. I'm in the thrall of finals and scrambling to decorate and shop for the holidays. Then today I found out my long-awaited Smart car is slated for delivery next Wednesday. After over a year to prepare, I'm still not sure if I'm ready for the excitement and thrill of driving a Smart full time. I'm doing thumb exercises to get ready for pushing my new steering wheel mounted paddle shifters. I've turned the keys for the Mini over to my hubby and now it's his turn to enjoy the fancy coffee and plush couches at the BMW dealership during oil changes. I always felt like I needed to dress up for a service appointment there, like I should wear my wool Jones New York suit and my good winter dress coat. I'm not quite sure I'm welcome back at the BMW dealership, anyway. It's probably better for the hubby to deal with them from now on. There's been several coffee incidents. I accidentally doused a leather couch with decaf and I tried to wipe it up with a Kleenex from my coat pocket, smearing it around worse. Then another time I tipped over a paper cup of regular onto the carpet of the BMW X5 courtesy shuttle. The last time I was there I misused the fancy coffee machine and managed to overflow my custom MINI travel mug, covering the entire refreshments counter with an inch of hot liquid. The wonderful thing about life is that events happen whether you are ready for them or not, whether it's an overflowing coffee mug or the delivery of a new sub-compact. Am I ready for a new addition to my automotive family? I'm not quite sure, but I know I can make room in my garage and my heart for the tiny Smart.
Yesterday I learned a car wash at Paradise doesn't include the whole car. After work Monday I took the MINI to Paradise. (All I said to the MINI was, "I've got two tickets to Paradise, pack your boot, we'll leave tonight!") That evening at home in the garage, I noticed the wheels on the MINI were still filthy. The next day I returned to Paradise and pointed out the wheels didn't get clean in the car wash. The staff person informed me that wheels aren't covered in the $19.99 Skipper package. Wheels are only included in the $24.99 Admiral package. They ended up washing the wheels for me, but $24.99 is pretty expensive for a car wash, so this is sadly my last trip to Paradise.
So this past week I was searching for reviews of my new car, and I came across a tounge-in-cheek review that mentions the Cooper and the Civic in the same breath. Writing on the Truth About Cars site, writer Justin Berkowitz describes the Cooper's personality:
" . . . the Cooper is a smug little bastard of a car. I don’t have to brake for that turn. I can carve through traffic. I can fit into that parking space. I get 40 mpg highway. Unlike that psychotic dust-buster Civic, I've got completely customizable character."
I've owned a couple of Honda Civic Del Sols and a Civic EX. The DOHC four-cylinder engine definately make a sound like a psychotic dustbuster, particulary if you rev it in reverse.
When I stopped by the Smart dealership last Monday, I tried to take the key to one of the demo Smart cars (accidentally) and the salesman snatched it back, joking that the car was no orphan. I knew I couldn't adopt it. I couldn't even get one of the model cars, for crap sakes. I left the Smart dealership disheartened that it would be another year before a Smart car might make it to my driveway. The blizzard swirled around me as I trudged back to my van. With the horrible weather, I knew the freeway would be crawling. I drove across the street to the BMW dealership to wait out the blizzard. I'd already scored a free cup of tea at Smart, and I thought BMW might have Starbucks or something even better. I was right. I arrived in the middle of the Midnight Madness promotion. A coffee barista and a DJ were setting up their equipment amidst all the German sedans in the middle of the showroom. I clomped in the front doors, stomping the snow off my Sorel boots. The corduroy jacket I bought on clearance down at the Red Wing Mall felt hot against my neck. The BMW dealership has premium heaters. The snow melted off the rubber part of my boots in seconds. I got my cup of coffee and climbed the stairs to the second level to kill some time looking at the new Mini Coopers. The tiny hoods sparkled under the showroom lights. The alloy wheels gleamed. A salesperson came over to offer me a test drive. I thought, what the heck, I might as well take one for a spin. He pulled around a black and yellow bumblebee-like demo car to the side door of the dealership. I hopped it, put in gear, and took it for a spin in the snow. I tried to drive it off the road a couple of times and the electronic stability control took over, keeping the car firmly on the street. I slammed on the brakes really hard to test the ABS at a four way stop. My Echo would have flown through the stop sign, but the Mini made a little clunking sound as the ABS engaged and then it stopped. Dead. Like I was on dry pavement. What a proficient little car. So, all it took was a test drive and I was hooked. I called my hubby on my mobile phone and told him I had a BMW for him. He likes them quite a bit, even though I grossly mock BMWs as giant yuppie-mobiles. After my husband arrived at the dealership and fortified himself at the Red Bull bar (another Midnight Madness promotion), we took a little black and silver Mini out for a spin. I bought it. Impulsively. Well, a bit impulsively. I scored an awesome discount since I adopted an orphan Mini that someone else ordered and never picked up. Plus, the latest issue of Consumer Reports gave it the highest ratings possible. (If you're a cheapskate like me, Consumer Reports is akin to the consumer bible.) CNET ranked the Mini up with the glorious Audi TT and a bunch of expensive Mercedes that cost more than a really nice mobile home. Yeah, a new Mercedes or a new home in the trailer park? What do you think I'd choose? So a little after 12:00 AM on April 1st, a Mini Cooper accompanied me home. I was forced to leave my conversion van in the BMW parking lot overnight, since my hubby drove his trusty Ford up to the dealership. But everything turned out okay in the end. We picked up my beloved conversion van the next day. Right now it's parked out in the drive behind the Mini.
Okay, just in case a few of you still think I reported buying a BMW just as an April Fool's Joke - here's a video to prove it. Shot right here in Farmington - Check out Mary reporting live from the garage:
Yesterday I got the Estimated Time of Arrival (ETA) email for the black and silver Smart car I reserved back in October. The ETA is April 2009. I rushed to the Smart dealership after work. The rep confirmed my worst fears. Smart car production is slower than promised. The ETA on the rep's car is 2010. A blizzard swirled outside the dealership. I felt too disheartened to sit around with the Smart sales rep, but visibility was too low to safely drive home to Farmington. I climbed into my 3/4 ton conversion van and drove across the street to the BMW dealership. I figured they might have hot coffee. Turns out I was right. They've got fresh-brewed Starbucks. I clomped in, stomping the snow off my Sorel boots. I glanced around, taking in the premium coffee machine and the giant, yuppie sedans. In that moment, under the hot, white showroom lights, I said cluck it, I'm going to buy a BMW. If I can't get my green machine Smart, I might as well be a gas guzzling yuppie driver. Luckily, the Midnight Madness promotion was happening last night at Motorwerks. A DJ provided entertainment and the car sales people were serving Red Bull at the bar. Around 12:30 AM this morning, I took possession of my brand-spanking new BMW. Do you think it will fit in around Farmington?
---------------------------------------------------------------------- Happy April Fool's Day!!!!
In the past day, chaos swirled around me. Last night I was pressed into a sweaty pit of headbangers for five hours, watching Avenged Sevenfold, Atreyu and Bullet for My Valentine at the Taste of Chaos show. Five hours in the pit was a tiny taste of chaos. As the house lights turned on, little did I know that a whole ladleful of chaos was coming my way. This morning I pulled on my best suit, tucked the latest issue of Car & Driver into my fauxPrada tote, and headed off to court. I was subpoenaed as a witness for the prosecution in the against the intoxicated driver who sideswiped my car last fall. Road debris splattered on my windshield and snow fell around me as I inched my way towards court in a massive traffic jam. I was listening to Morning Edition on NPR when the radio commentary was interrupted by a thud and a sickening cracking sound. A rock thrown off a semi broke the windshield of my van. I finally arrived at the courthouse, and after waiting in the courtroom for an hour, I discovered the defendant had already plead guilty. I never got the chance to testify. After filing for reimbursement for my mileage, I trudged back out to the van. I raced through the day at work, tearing through Java code and pairing with a consultant to tackle a weighty software bug. I was still in full tilt when my phone buzzed with a new text message at 5 o'clock. It was the hubby. My Toyota Echo, which has been on the market exactly a day and a half, already sold. Even though my Smart won't arrive for a few months, I assumed it would take the Echo a while to sell. I haven't actually sold too many cars. Of the fourteen vehicles I've owned, nearly all went to the junkyard, were given to a pal or donated to charity. I like giving away cars. I tried to give the Echo to my husband, but he wouldn't take it. He agreed to show it to prospective buyers instead. So the whirlwind of chaos is finally settling, the dust drifting back towards the ground. In twenty-four hours I moshed to numerous bands, wasted an hour and a half driving in a snowstorm, visited a Hennepin county court in session, cracked my windshield and sold a Toyota. All that, and I still found time to do my homework tonight. Now it's time for a big, fat dinner and bed.
Programming Monkeys is my soapbox. I stand up on it and ramble about living in Farmington, MN, (the best town ever), the joys of being a Smart car owner and my menagerie of pets. Once in a while you might catch me rambling about IT. This site gets its name from an offhand comment said in an IT meeting about monkeys being able to program a computer.
Disclaimer: This is a personal blog and does not represent the views of any former or current employer.
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You might think we're building a car farm down here in Farmington by the sheer number of vehicles at the house, but the Del Sol has already been sold to make room for the Z3. Two days after the Del Sol was listed on Craigslist a nice, responsible teen showed up with a cashier's check from the 
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