Car Stuff: Chasing One Down

A couple of months ago, I was making a quick run to the liquor store on a Friday evening. I was at the bus stop when a very vintage, black Cadillac convertible went past, too quickly for me to get a photo. The bus arrived a few moments later, and I wondered if we might catch up to the car, but I could not see it ahead of us.

When the bus got to Wellington Circle, where I needed to get out, I looked across the traffic waiting for the light, which can get pretty thick on Friday evenings, and I saw the Cadillac in the left lane. I pulled out my phone and started taking pictures while I was walking toward the crosswalk (which is why this one's blurry).

When I got to where I needed to cross, the car was still there, so I kept pushing the shutter.

I crossed behind the car and now I was on the median next to the driver. I asked him if I could take a couple of shots and he obliged, telling me that the car was a '53. The light changed and he went on his way, and I had an interesting anecdote to share along with these pics. (The guy has good taste in hats, too.)

Concert (Ticket) Vault: April Fool

I have not done one of these in a while, so let's jump in the time machine and head back to 1988...

Robyn Hitchcock was beloved by music critics in the late 1980s (and probably still is). The distinctive points of view and odd lyrics of his songs resonated with a certain type of person, and I definitely wanted to see him live. This tour was extra special because he brought along Peter Buck of R.E.M. to play guitar.

The week leading up to this show I was pretty ill, and I wasn't sure I would be able to go, but I managed to get well enough in time. In addition to being April Fool's Day, April 1 happened to be Good Friday that year, and there was also a full moon that night. Hitchcock ticked off all these points at the start of the show, then remarked, "I'd say that's quite an auspicious start to things, wouldn't you?" Yep.

(The ticket price index is at $8.50 here. Today, in some bars and clubs you can barely get a beer for $8.50.)

Getting Home

Last Friday afternoon I was on my way home. I took the bus from Harvard Square to Sullivan, and when I came down the stairs to the platform, the clock said 5:37 pm. It also said that a train would not be coming for nine minutes. That's an unusually long interval between trains during rush hour when no delays or problems have been announced, but I was not worried because I only needed to get two stops to Wellington in time to catch the 6:00 bus, and most afternoons it takes about five minutes to get from Sullivan to Wellington, with a stop in between at Assembly.

I didn't make the bus. I don't know why, other than that the train did not arrive until 5:54. As I watched the sign, the interval went form nine to 10 minutes and stayed there for four or five minutes. No announcement was made about a delay. Then the clock started to count down. When it got to one minute, the PA did the "the next Orange Line train is now approaching" thing, followed by "the next Orange Line train is now arriving." It did that three more times, but no train appeared.

Eventually a train did arrive, but by the time I got to Wellington, I had of course missed the bus. In fact, I was close enough to see it pulling away when I got outside. I didn't feel like waiting around in the heat for 20 minutes, so I decided maybe I'd see if an Uber driver was nearby. One happened to be over at Station Landing, only a couple of minutes away by car. Then I noticed a cab at the curb. I've been kind of down on cabs since alternatives like Uber and Lyft (which I have not used) arrived in the area. I thought I'd give a cab driver a break, and save myself the two minutes that I'd have to wait for the Uber ride.

I walked closer to the cab and saw that the driver was not inside, but he saw me and came running over. I told him my destination and he replied that I would have to tell him how to get there because he was new to the area. Of course, all the windows had been left open and he did not give me any indication that he was going to put on the air conditioning. I let it go, knowing I'd be in the car only a few minutes.

I have not taken a cab ride for a while, and I'd never taken one from Wellington to my house (it's only the past year or so that I've noticed cabs even waiting at Wellington, now that they have more competition). I figured it couldn't be more than about eight dollars, and I knew I had a five and five ones in my pocket. But the total for the ride turned out to be $10.10. I also had twenties, having been to the ATM that day, so I gave one to the driver. He told me he had only fives for change. I didn't know if this was some sort of a scam or just a newbie driver not having his shit together, so I took a five from him.

But me being me, I couldn't quite leave it alone, so as I was getting out of the cab I said, "You know, this is exactly why people use Uber." That hit a nerve. He started waving another five at me, saying, "Take it, ten dollars is enough." I turned back and replied, "No, you deserve a tip, but I should be able to decide how much of a tip I want to give you. I'm going inside now."

Out of curiosity I went to Uber's site and looked up the fare for the route I'd traveled. The estimate is six to eight dollars (it's not a long ride). And had I taken Uber, I would not have had to worry about whether or not I even had any cash on me.

Car Stuff: Oh, a Fiero

I feel like I'm slipping further behind with these posts, and I have some good stuff I'm eager to share. I's hard to get motivated to work on them at the end of a long day, but I'm trying.

Back in the spring, this well-worn Pontiac Fiero showed up in the parking lot of the apartment building on the corner where our street meets the Fellsway. If the owner had happened to have one of the spaces down in the back of the lot, it's unlikely I would have been aware of it, since I used to walk the dog back there but we have not ventured through that area in some time.

The Fiero was General Motors's attempt to create a moderately-priced, mid-engine, two-seat sports car in the vein of the Porsche 914. It was sold from 1984-88, and this car is the rarer fastback body style that was available in the final three years of production—about 40,000 cars, or 25% of total Fiero production over those three years.

The Fiero's biggest problem was that it was kind of a beta version of the car Pontiac originally intended to build. Forced to compromise to cut costs, the car was saddled with a weak four-cylinder engine and suspension components from GM's economy cars, leading to disappointed buyers. Eventually a V6 engine became optional, and the suspension was improved for '88, but it was too late.

Retro Video Unit (8/21/15)

I've been a week behind on these since, oh, late June. So this is my attempt, however feeble, to get back to my previously established timetable.

About a month ago I happened to catch the 1985 movie To Live and Die in L.A. on TV. Directed by William Friedkin, it's an underrated, gritty crime movie starring William Petersen in an early lead role as a Secret Service agent on the trail of a suave, cocky counterfeiter (a fascinating performance by William Dafoe). I've seen it a number of times, and if you have not had the opportunity, I do recommend it.

I mention it here because the soundtrack was done by the band Wang Chung, whom Friedkin specifically sought out to do the music. As a result I've had the band's songs in my brain on and off since, and I think it's time to feature a song here.



"Everybody Have Fun Tonight" was not used in the movie (it would have been wildly out of place with the film's dark tone), but it's kind of the band's signature song. Be warned, though: the video might make you dizzy, or give you a headache, if you are sensitive to rapidly changing imagery.

(There's a story about this song and a live show by The dB's that I saw way back in 1987 with Just Bud Fox, but it's kind of a "you had to be there" thing.)

Car Stuff: Sometimes They Get Away

About a month ago the Mrs. and I were returning from a late-afternoon wedding reception and were driving through Revere, a few miles northeast of where we live. In the next lane over I spotted something red with a general shape that suggested it might be older. Eventually we got close enough that I could recognize it as a Dodge Lancer, a four-door hatchback introduced in 1985.

Oh, but wait a minute. When I got a better look I realized this car was in fact a Shelby Lancer, a limited-production, higher-performance version of the Lancer produced for Dodge by Shelby Automobiles, an aftermarket tuning house that had been responsible for a series of high-performance Mustangs in the 1960s that are now worth ridiculous amounts of money.

These things are rare: they were produced for only a few model years, at only a few hundred cars per year. We were driving along next to it and I had my phone out, but I don't like people to see when I'm taking photos of their cars, especially while they're moving, because I worry that it might distract the other driver. So unfortunately this was the only usable shot I was able to get.

Conveniently, someone else took pics of this car last year and posted them to the Curbside Classic Cohort, and one of the CC writers did a piece on it. (I know it's the same car because the license plate matched.) I'm glad to see that the car is very well kept, but I'm also glad to see it's being driven and enjoyed.

Tuning the Routine

I wasn't too happy about last week's steamy bus incident. And the next morning when I was again waiting at Sullivan, I saw the same bus rolling up, again with all its windows open. I stepped aside and again waited for a different bus; that one went to Central, so I had to jump on the Red Line to get the rest of the way to work.

The margin of error in my commute is already precarious, and I hate the idea of being late due to not wanting to ride on a bus without air conditioning. Over the past couple of weeks I'd been assessing my morning routine, trying to see if I could tighten it up enough to leave the house earlier. When I started this assignment, leaving later was working better for me, but that has ceased to be true. And I was finding that I would almost be ready to leave when the earlier bus came—I was off by maybe three minutes. (The buses run every 20 minutes in the mornings, so I have to aim for a specific time to be ready to leave.)

I came to the conclusion that I needed to start getting up earlier. Not by much, but if I wanted my mornings to go more smoothly, I needed a bit more time. Last Friday I happened to be ready early enough to catch that earlier bus, and I arrived at work 15 minutes earlier than I'd been getting there. That also meant I could leave earlier, which is just a bonus. So Sunday night I backed up my alarm by 10 minutes, and that seems to be the difference I needed. Yesterday and today my routine has worked better and I've been able to leave the house in time to catch that earlier bus. And I'm avoiding the no-AC bus as well.

(No hitting the snooze bar either; when the music comes on, I get up. It's disorienting for the first few minutes, but it gets easier. Now I have to work on getting to sleep earlier...)

Retro Video Unit (8/14/15)

Apparently there's no longer a schedule governing any of this... the brain just doesn't cooperate the way it used to.

Real quick, then: "Kiss Me Deadly" by Generation X, featuring Billy Idol on lead vocals. This clip seems to be from some sort of documentary, but it's the best one available.

Summer Color

I'm not really into the whole outfit-pic/what-I-wore-today thing, but I can't say I'm above a small amount of selective preening, and I like the way these items went together yesterday.

The watch I've featured before; it's my Submariner "homage" from Alpha Watch of Hong Kong. It's really a damn good watch, rugged and dependable with a Japanese Miyota movement, and I wear it pretty regularly in the summer with my various nylon straps. I found mine on eBay, but currently they are going for around $125 new direct from Alpha (slightly more on a metal bracelet). It's almost certainly a better choice than its Invicta counterpart.

The blue strap is a cheapo Timex that I found in Target; I like it because it's about the length of a regular watch strap and doesn't need to be folded over and tucked into the metal keeper bar, which always pop out with my other, longer straps.

The shirt is a relatively recent addition. It's from Orvis and is 100% linen. I really like the main color, which is called "weathered red," but I also like the pop of aqua quite a lot. I like wearing bright colors in summer, and of the three colorways available this one was the best.

Feeling the Heat

Is it 2015 or 1995? My iPhone suggests the former, but my 86 bus this morning did not have working air conditioning, which is what made me think I may have time-warped. It was one of the older GMC buses still in service, but my experience has been that most of those still have functioning AC. Lucky me, I caught one that didn't.

It turned out to be an unlucky commute in general: not only did I swelter, but I got to do it at low speed because of some traffic mess or other, all the way from Sullivan to McGrath. At that point I decided to get off the bus and wait for the next one, which took about 20 minutes to arrive.

I don't know how we used to do it. I know our bodies are more resilient when we're younger, and I know I lived and commuted without the benefit of air conditioning for quite a long time, but looking back it seems unbearable.

Overheard: Golf and Indigestion Edition

Yesterday two dude-bros sitting behind me on the bus were expounding at length on their golf game, which I won't bore you with. But then things got strange, and interesting:

Dude-Bro #1: "I think that's the first time I've thrown up in a bar and it wasn't from drinking too much."
Dude-Bro #2: "Yeah, we never should have ordered that roast beef. It was like the last item on the menu."
Dude-Bro #1: "Why did we even eat there?"
Dude-Bro #2: "Because they took credit cards."

(I was extremely disappointed that I did not catch the name of the particular establishment they were talking about.)

Car Stuff: A Cluster of Benzes

I haven't done one of these in a while, because I didn't have any new material for one. Then I started seeing these various 1980s vintage Mercedes-Benz E-Class models around. Most of them were diesels, and they were built to last, so it's not surprising they're still running around.

This one was the first one I saw, a couple of months ago at the traffic lights at Wellington Circle. I thought this one was the brown that a lot of them were, but it looks more like burgundy.

I spotted this station wagon after I'd been working in Harvard Square just a few days. The black paint is a little less common, and it looks like it's had window tint added on as well. I don't remember if this one was in fact a diesel, but it probably was. Yeah, there's a little dent on top of the fender, but it's still a sweet ride.

These cars do need service sometimes, and this one sits in front of a garage on Washington Street in Somerville. I passed it on the bus a couple of times before thinking ahead enough to get a seat on the correct side to take a pic as the bus passed it. (Just this morning I saw a fourth one, on College Avenue in Somerville, but we passed it too quickly.)

These cars weren't status symbols like Mercedes-Benz cars are today; in fact, the diesel E-Class was sort of an anti-status symbol. It's true that they were more expensive than many comparable cars, but people bought them willingly at those higher prices, because they understood that they were making an investment in a car that would run for decades. These pictures are proof of their wisdom.

(I can't say with certainty that the second and third cars were in fact diesels, but they were more common than their gasoline-powered siblings.) Update, 8/23: I saw the black wagon again two days ago, parked in the same spot, and it's a turbodiesel!

Checking In

Wait, what day is it? Sunday? Yikes. Well, I don't really know what to say about that... there were errands Friday night, and yesterday was largely occupied by stuff related to elderly dog care, then we zipped out last night for a quick meal at Border Cafe. And I guess I've been trying to spend less time at the computer on weekends (with varying levels of success).

To some degree, I also let inspiration guide me. That is, I try to have specific ideas before I start to write posts. If nothing bubbles up for a couple of days, I get a little worried about my brain, like maybe I'm losing my ability to observe and report. Maybe the well is running dry?

How about this? I can tell you that I'm reading a very enjoyable book about television called The Revolution Was Televised. It's written by Alan Sepinwall, the TV critic for HitFix whose opinions I have come to respect greatly. (Alan is the reason I decided to check out unREAL on Lifetime this summer, and I am so glad I did. He was also the inspiration for my attempts to write weekly thoughts about Mad Men episodes.)

The book is about the current golden age of TV we are living in, and the most significant shows of the past 15 to 20 years that led the way. (It's a few years old, and I understand that a new edition of the book is coming out this fall, with additional material on the ends of Breaking Bad and Mad Men, so maybe it's worth waiting until then to check it out.)

Snapshot

There are times when I see people who are so distinctive in appearance that I would like to take a photo, but that isn't always practical on, say, a jammed subway car, and some people would not want that image to be published online without their consent. But I can certainly offer a description.

Due to the recent traffic issues (which are now gone, thankfully), on a few mornings I found it easier, or at least less of a headache, to take the Orange Line into downtown and switch to the Red Line to get to Harvard Square. I don't attempt to read on trains and buses unless I'm able to get a seat, because it requires a fair amount of effort to avoid falling down and to be ready to move out of the way of those exiting and entering, so I amuse myself by observing people.

One morning I was watching people get off the train at State Street and getting ready to get out at the next stop. As people on the platform started getting on the train, I saw a flash of hair that I thought was red, but then a moment later I saw it was in fact orange, like really orange. As the person entered the train I saw it was a woman, well-dressed and with very carefully applied makeup. She stood near me for a moment but then moved into the car to take an empty seat.

The color and cut of her hair were obviously taken directly from Annie Lennox circa the first Eurythmics album. She was also wearing glasses that reminded me of the Matsuda frames that were popular among sophisticated, well-to-do types in the early 1980s. They could have been vintage, or just of a similar shape and material. She was pale, but had on bright lipstick that stood out on her face.

She was wearing a skirt suit that had the distinct look of being homemade. I don't mean that in a negative way; I suspect the woman had made it herself, because it was unusual and she had the look of someone who would prefer a very specific style, one not readily available in a store. The fabric was cream and there was a small repeating pattern in burgundy, like small paisleys, spaced about two inches apart. (I wasn't close enough to get a clear look.) The jacket was cut like a man's tail coat but without the tails; the skirt was straight and above the knee. She wore some sort of white blouse with a ruffled collar, white stockings, and bright orange pumps that were clearly meant to play off her hair color.

I would have loved a chance to talk with this woman, just because she was so distinctive looking. She had obviously put great care into her appearance, and on a midsummer day it's unusual to see anyone on the T, male or female, kitted out so elaborately.

Car Stuff: Green Bird

I feel like I need to post something car-related. I'm sure I'm overdue for a Fantasy Garage installment, but that isn't going to happen on my current schedule. I'll probably have to spend the time to prepare it over a weekend. So meanwhile I looked through the photos on my phone and have something to share...

I was running an errand in Brookline about two months ago and spotted this car just as I got off the trolley on Beacon Street. It's a 1979 Ford Thunderbird, the final year of a very successful three-year run of the first downsized 'Bird. As I've mentioned previously, personal luxury was the big car trend of the '70s, which happened to coincide well with the need to make cars at least a little smaller.

This car was considered a stylish ride when new, and this particular one has some nice options: the jade green paint and interior, the wire wheel covers, and look, those are T-tops! Not common on T-birds, that's for sure. (It is a little odd that the rear half of the roof isn't covered in vinyl.) I only wish I'd been able to get a shot with the entire car in it. The car was in the left-turn lane, so I turned to my left and waited for it to make the turn so I could attempt more shots, but it never turned. I have no idea where it went. Maybe it wasn't even real...

As a partial consolation, here's what the front end looks like.

Retro Viedo Unit (7/31/15)

I'm surprised I didn't think of this song earlier, but it popped up on the soundtrack of an episode of AMC's Halt and Catch Fire (which, by the way, is so, so much better in its second season that it's like a completely different show that happens to feature the same characters), a show that has done a really good job of choosing music from the early to mid 1980s to feature.



"Boy" by Book of Love is a synthpop confection from '85 that became a hit on the strength of a catchy melody and the use of uncommon (in pop and rock, anyway) tubular bells, which have a very distinctive sound.

Retro Video Unit, Concert Edition (7/31/15)

I know, I said I would post these on the last Friday of the month. Well, I forgot. The Mrs. and I went out for a meal last night, and when we got back I kind of fell into a post-food stupor, and even went to bed relatively early for me and for a Friday night. But hey, here I am now, and this is a good one...



This is the live performance that Portishead recorded with a group of string instrument players at the Roseland Ballroom in New York in 1997. It's a great show, and the people who were there to see it are really lucky. This is a band I wish we'd hear more from.