Anybody who's ever worked on a project car knows how something that started as a "simple job" can spiral into a much bigger one.  When Howard Hesketh of Big H Bricklin emailed me with an offer to film his 1975 Bricklin SV-1 for AutoMoments, I originally declined because I didn't have the time or budget to travel to Missouri just to film a car, even one as special as his.  However, when Howard informed me that he and his wife Kathy would be driving cross-county to Pittsburgh for a car show, I agreed to meet him there.  Little did I know, it was just the beginning.
     We spent a cloudy, humid day driving and filming his Ford-powered Safety Red SV-1 around a small town outside the city.  Typically it takes a full 8 to 10 hours to film everything I like, including exteriors, interiors, engine shots, drive-by footage, GoPro footage, and finally talking-and-driving shots (which are the hardest, because I suddenly forget everything I want to say as soon as the camera turns on).

     I'm always careful when I film someone else's car, because you never know how protective they are of their "baby."  Perhaps that hood release knob is barely held together with J-B Weld, and a replacement one costs $300 on eBay, and I don't want to be the guy who hits it with his knee and breaks it while getting into the front seat.  Thankfully, Howard's car was extremely well put-together, and he continually encouraged me to really drive it.
    Despite our state's best efforts, Pennsylvania roads remain continually torn up due to unfavorable weather and geography.  The SV-1's solid rear axle tended to hop around on broken asphalt, but once we finally found a clear stretch, I was amazed at how well it held on through turns.  I found myself pushing it way harder than I would other 1970s "sporty" cars, which I probably would have understeered into a tree by this point.

     Funny thing is, in all the clips where you actually see the SV-1 driving, it's Howard behind the wheel!  I'm behind the camera, off in the weeds by the side of the road, trying to record the perfect shot.  This often turns out to be harder than it sounds, as oncoming traffic, bicyclists, and construction crews all seem determined to interrupt things. The grass along the roads was remarkably overgrown, which made it even more difficult to get the shots I wanted.  Apparently the county maintenance crews felt the same way, because as soon as we found a good spot to film they showed up to start cutting the grass and digging out the roadside ditches.  Finally, we escaped to some quiet places where we could film in peace.
     After a successful day of shooting, I spent the next morning at the car show with Howard.  He was parked beside two other limited-production sports cars, a Nash Healey and a Kaiser Darrin.  Both were gorgeous examples that, until then, I had never seen up close in person.  Of the trio, the Bricklin probably drew the most attention.  Once the gullwing doors go up, everybody seems drawn to it.  (Although the Kaiser has cool doors, too.)

     Of course, the story could have had a happy ending right there, but a few months later Howard called me, asking if I would like to interview Malcolm Bricklin for my video!  Most of the automotive personalities referenced in my work have long since passed on (there aren't many Kaiser or DeSoto employees left), so the chance to interview a living automotive legend sounded too good to be true.  After some logistics back and forth, we finally agreed to meet at the 2019 New York International Auto Show.
     This time we were indoors, but just like our shoot back in Pittsburgh, the environment seemed to conspire against us.  Auto shows are notorious for having nowhere to sit, and I didn't want to make Malcolm stand for half and hour while I asked pedantic questions about the AMC 360 V8.  Thankfully we nabbed a free folding chair that was hiding behind one of the automaker's displays, and I found a wooden bench for myself to sit on.  We got our lights and camera set up, and Malcolm was just about to arrive when football star Boomer Eisaison walked by with a box of cupcakes to celebrate the Ford Mustang's 55th birthday.

     Normally I'd be excited (especially for the cupcakes), but I knew the ensuing entourage would create a problematic amount of noise for our microphones, so I nervously asked a Ford PR person to shepherd the crowd away.  I explained that we had a very important interview with, "Someone who built a famous sports car using a Ford V8 engine."  She eagerly obliged, although I didn't bother including that the car was 45 years old.  My guess is that nobody working the Ford display would recognize an SV-1, even if Malcolm himself drove it onto the show floor.       
     Malcolm showed up right on schedule, and we had a grand time chatting about his work.  He regaled me with stories of getting soaked in the rain waiting for gullwing doors to open, being cursed out over the phone by AMC president Bill Luneburg, and recently getting called by multiple electric car startups asking for automotive industry advice.  We could have talked for hours, but unfortunately we were limited to 45 minutes.  (I published our full, unedited interview on the AutoMoments YouTube channel.)

     During my research, many articles derided the Bricklin SV-1 as a failed car or a "flop."  These are to be expected for any unique car, especially one where the company went out of business.  (As an AMC fan, I'm well acquainted with automotive bias.)  Having driven Howard's SV-1 and walked away fairly impressed with it, I figured most of these negative pieces were written by people who had never driven a Bricklin.
      More disconcerting were the people who described the company as a "sham" and Malcolm himself as a "huckster" (or worse).  Given the SV-1's inseparable connection to Canadian politics, the car will always carry some degree of controversy.  But controversy is not the same as genuine scandal.  I wanted to make sure I had my facts straight before I published anything.
      Thankfully, Malcolm's own account pretty much lined up with the accepted history of the company.  Perhaps after all these years he sees the past with rosier glasses than some, but it's not like he tried to defraud New Brunswick and run off with millions.  Like so many others who started automakers and failed, there was simply no amount of dreams or motivation that could overcome the incredible odds against him.  He even admits that the chief cause for the company's problems was his own naivety.  You won't find that kind of honest self-reflection from many people in the car industry, then or now.
     Perhaps the worst allegation you could level against him is that he's an over-eager self-promoter, but then again, so are 90% of the people who were at the New York Auto Show that week...

     Other projects forced me to delay working on the Bricklin video for some time.  I knew a standard 10 minute road test wouldn't do the story justice; I'd have to do something longer, which made my procrastination worse.  Then, spring 2020 came and we all had extra time on our hands, so I decided to get to work.  After hounding Mark Bricklin and other other club members, I amassed a treasure trove of vintage photos.  I contacted people in New Brunswick and even got permission to use a clip from the Bricklin stage musical in my video.  The pieces were coming together.  Herb Grasse' widow, Terri, was kind enough to share some stories over the phone, which made it into the video as well.  After a few weeks of editing, the everything came together.

     Ultimately I didn't indend to produce a 22 minute documentary on the history of the SV-1, but I learned so much interesting information, I just had to share it.  In fact, there's a lot of great material I had to leave out, simply because it was impossible to include everything!
     I am amazed and grateful for how generous the Bricklin community has been.  This video is truly a labor of love, and I couldn't have done it without a lot of help from a lot of people.  Howard Hesketh, deserves credit not only for driving halfway across the country and trusting me behind the wheel of his car, but for providing an endless pool of facts, data, contacts, and enthusiasm.  As one of the top authorities on the car, I'd recommend everyone in need of parts or service to check out his website: BigHBricklin.com.  Mark Bricklin also deserves credit, as do Patrick R. Foster, the Provincial Archives of New Brunswick, Alden Jewell, and many others.  Most of all, I'm thankful to Malcolm Bricklin, who took time out of his day to share stories with some guy from a random YouTube channel.

     In a way, we're not that dissimilar; we're both self-promoters who love to talk about cars...

     A few days after the final video was published, Malcolm sent me an email saying that I did a "hell of a great job!"  Which is the best endorsement I could have asked for.

     If you haven't already, I strongly encourage you to watch it.  I also published Malcolm's full, unedited interview, and another video looking at some Bricklin brochures in depth.  Enjoy!

     There are certain cars that automotive journalists love to love.  Whenever talking about "favorites," the Audi R8, BMW M3, and the Honda Fit invariably pop up.  But, none are as popular as the Mazda MX-5 Miata.

     I realized at an early age that the entire motoring press had glowing reviews for this little roadster.  The consistency of their thoughts baffled me.  How could so many people like the same car so often?

     On paper, the MX-5 doesn't appear to be that exceptional.  If you want something fast, there are sportier hot hatches that cost considerably less.  If you're shopping for a convertible, paying a little extra for a Camaro or Mustang will give you a lot more horsepower and a back seat. It's not that I didn't trust all the car magazines.  I just felt like I needed more evidence for me to jump on the bandwagon, too.  I understood why people liked the MX-5—but I didn't understand why they loved it.

     Then, I drove one.

     I was working for MotorWeek during their annual track testing in Georgia, and we probably had over a million dollars worth of cars at our disposal.  After a day of shooting, my boss told me to pick one and hit the track.  We had V-series Cadillacs, Mercedes AMGs, a Lamborghini, a Viper, and even a McLaren.  But for some reason, the Miata caught my eye.  I'd driven one before, but that was relatively brief and slow.  Now was my chance to truly find out how this car managed to infatuate all who got behind the wheel.  Plus, I figured it was probably the easiest to drive and the least expensive if I wrecked it.  So I put my helmet on, strapped in, fired it up, and took off.

     I had an epiphany on the track that day.  After years of healthy skepticism, I was a believer.  The MX-5 was an absolute blast to drive.  There is no number that can measure or express why this car is so much fun.  It seems to have an invisible touch; it reaches in and grabs right ahold of your heart.

     Seriously though, there's something magical about this car.  It's so small and so light; you really feel connected to the road.  The MX-5's strength is it's simplicity.  In a era where cars use all kinds of computers to hide their flaws and isolate the driver, the MX-5 is refreshingly honest.  It feels natural.  For how much I love cars, I have very little track experience (none).  Yet, I was very comfortable.  As my confidence increased I even felt the tail break lose going around a turn, and I couldn't help bursting out in laughter.  With only 155 horsepower, the MX-5 is "good Christian fun," in the sense that you don't have to risk life and limb to enjoy all it has to offer.

     For the rest of the week, I drove the MX-5 whenever I could.  Other, less exciting features began to appeal to me, too.  The infotainment system is remarkably intuitive to use, and I love that the manual top can be raised or lowered in just seconds with only one hand.  Every part of the car seems thoughtfully executed for simplicity.  Unlike all of the other cars I drove that week, the Miata was just as much fun on a long highway or twisty backroad as it was on the track.  For a fleeting moment, I was tempted to visit a dealer.

     Then reality kicked in, and I realized the on-paper impracticality of buying a two-seat, rear wheel drive roadster.  My time on the track couldn't overcome all of my misgivings.  The Miata's fun-to-drive factor doesn't outweigh the other cheaper, bigger, more fuel efficient options for people like me.

     However, my question was answered.  Sure, Vipers and Lamborghini are awesome, but the Miata has something special.  It's like that girl you're really good friends with, and then one day you realize that you're in love with her, too.  It's something mysterious.  I think I'm falling, falling for her...

Recently my girlfriend lured me to go shopping with the promise of bountiful free samples.  Proving that she is indeed the perfect woman for me, we enjoyed over a 100 varieties of jam, jelly, curd, relish, dip, spread, peanut butter, salsa, and olive oil without spending more than $10.  Inside one of these quaint country stories, I came across something I hadn't seen in years—a player piano!

As I put my quarter in the slot and gleefully watched the piano bang out something eerily similar to Sesame Street, my girlfriend shook her head; amazed that I could be entertained so easily.

On the other hand, I was amazed how something so old-fashioned could do something so complex.  Yet, if you were to take the piano apart, it probably wouldn't be that difficult to figure out how it worked; it's just a bunch of gears, chains, and hoses connected to an air pump.

This being a few days after the release of our AMC Eagle video, it got me thinking.  The revolutionary part of the Eagle's 4WD system was its transfer case, which used a viscous coupling to send power to both the front and rear wheels.  And while I lack the mechanical finesse to understand exactly how it works, a few dealership training films helped me explain it in layman's terms during our video.

This 30 year old Eagle genuinely impressed me.  I don't do a lot of off-road driving, and there were situations where I felt pretty uncomfortable behind the wheel of that car.  Yet, we never got stuck.

It amazes me what engineers were able to accomplish through purely mechanical solutions.  Modern cars have all kinds of advanced computers with wheel-slip detection and torque-vectoring software that allows vehicles to do unbelievable things.  However, you'll have a much harder time understanding how they do it.  30 years ago, cars couldn't even stop in a straight line; now they'll automatically stop for you!

You might think me ridiculous, but the Eagle's transfer case and that player piano have a lot in common.  Both are meticulous yet ingenious designs that address a very complex challenge.  Imagine, for a moment, you're an engineer in a world without computers and somebody told you:

"We need to build a piano that plays itself and a car that can shift in and out of 4WD while driving on dry pavement."

Amazingly, somebody figured both of these things out, and their solutions are simple enough that a bum like me with no formal engineering education can understand them.  Maybe I am too easily entertained...

Sincerity is a difficult feeling to portray through advertising.  Most people are cynical, assuming that any corporation's attempts to be genuine are rarely truly genuine.

By December of 1945, it had been a mere six months since Japan surrendered and World War II had ended.  American automakers hurried to convert their factories from producing weapons to cars.  With no need to boast about its wartime production but without a new car to show off, Studebaker published this poignant advertisement.

It's difficult for me to fully appreciate what America was feeling in December, 1945.  No doubt, the thrill of victory was still fresh in their minds, as well as the terrible price it had cost.  No war in my lifetime has ever come close to the scope and scale of WWII.  As the closing days of 2015 were filled with more violence and uncertainty, this ad made me slowly realize how much more violent and uncertain the world must have looked in those years before 1945.  Indeed, "peace on earth" took on a whole new meaning for Americans that Christmas.

70 years later, Studebaker is gone.  A generic "holidays" has replaced "Christmas" in most advertisements, and commercials now feature Santas in German supercars and children waking up to Japanese luxury SUVs in their driveways.  It's certainly not a future anyone could have predicted, but I suppose we should all be thankful if the biggest threat these countries pose is merely lost sales for our homegrown automakers.

However; somethings have not changed.  The true "peace on earth" referenced above, meaning the birth of a baby who would become more influential than any emperor, president, or chancellor, is still the same.  To those who believe, there is true peace in knowing that Jesus transcends and outlasts any war, car company, or nation created by man.

But whether you believe that or not, we all can appreciate sincerity of an Studebaker's advertisement.  It is a call for a collective reflection and appreciation of all the country had been through.  As the U.S. faces uncertain days ahead, we now increasingly view peace as a "...dearly won and precious acquisition we know we must treasure vigilantly..."

I wish you and yours the best this Christmas and holiday season, and I hope you will know peace throughout 2016, as we hopefully, confidently, and resolutely face the opportunity to shape our destiny.

Looking at what a man produces is a simple but powerful way to judge all aspects of him.  In work, play, love, and life, does he make more than he takes; does he give more than he gets?  A child lives solely off the labor of others, but as he grows he learns that he must provide for himself.  The challenge, however; is to move past merely living hand to mouth, to the point that he can help others as well.  Manhood is using your surplus of money, time, happiness, and ability to improves the lives of those around you.  A boy sees work as a means to make money; a man sees work as a means to assist others.

The same rule should apply to trucks.  So many trucks seem to exist solely for [conspicuous] consumption.  We all know the stereotypical truck with a dual cab, dual wheels, dual chrome smokestacks, and a bed that is completely empty, save for a some Mountain Dew bottles.  These are the kind of trucks that purposefully leave stoplights in a cloud of black smoke and harass Prius drivers on the highway.  Thankfully, they're often adorned with warning signs, like Confederate flags and stickers of little boys urinating on the logos of other truck brands, which help other drivers identify and avoid them.

While not as ostensibly obnoxious, the luxury truck is just as useless.  With four doors and a four foot bed, these trucks were designed specifically to avoid work.  Aside from the occasional fishing boat or trailer of dirt bikes, they rarely tow anything.  You're more likely to find them at a Wal-Mart than a work site.  On the inside, you'll find an interior with supple leather, thick carpet, and fancy trim, none of which is meant for mud, blood, and sweat.  Sure, it has the powertrain to do serious work, but that might hurt its trade-in value.

As with people, the most productive trucks tend to be unassuming.  Vinyl seats, rubber floor mats, and limited features are a plus; complex accessories are just another thing to break.  Size can also be deceiving.  My father had a 1996 Toyota Tacoma that turned out to be one of the most productive vehicles I've ever seen.

This modest 4 cylinder, 5 speed pickup pulled wagons of corn through muddy fields, hauled hay bales through half a foot of snow, and towed fertilizer buggies across miles of back country roads.  Some might look down on a truck that only makes 142 horsepower, but that little Toyota probably did more work in a week than some of these "Heavy Duty" pickup trucks do in a year.  He finally sold it after 14 years and bought a new 4 cylinder, 5 speed Tacoma.

Now, I realize I am not an expert on trucks or manhood, so I don't expect everyone out there to agree with me.  But I think modesty, thrift, and productivity are qualities with universal appeal, whether in vehicles or people.  Recently I had the chance to drive a 1986 Ford F-250 diesel, and it showed me just how far trucks have come in the last 30 years.  Judging by the comments people left on the video, I'm not the only one who wishes we had more trucks like it:

In our last blog post, I had the chance to speak with Richard Bennett, President of the car club known as The Brougham Society.  They celebrate all the wonderful things about classic American luxury vehicles, like waterfall grilles, hood ornaments, and opera windows.  In part two of our interview, we talk about what led to the decline of these cars, as well as the growing interest in preserving them.

The Brougham Society can be found on Facebook, and you can read more of Richard Bennett's thoughts on all kinds of automobiles on his blog, "Because, Cars."

If you're a fan of seeing classic American luxury cars in action, check out some of our Time Warp Test Drive videos on the AutoMoments YouTube channel!

Peak usage of the word probably came between 1970-1985.  The American muscle era had ended, and now buyers wanted cars with velour seats, courtesy lights, wire wheels, and vinyl roofs.  Mainstream collectors don't seen to have a whole lot of enthusiasm for these cars, but that could be changing.  The Brougham Society, or TBS, celebrates cars like these, realizing that we probably will never see anything like them again.

Their enthusiasm encompasses all kinds of big American luxury cars, not just those with "Brougham" in the name.  The main gathering place for the club is their Facebook group, where people from across the country (and the world) discuss their love of these vehicles.   I recently spoke with the club's founder and president, Richard Bennett, about his group and its growing popularity.

Richard and I had a lot more to talk about, including the decline in popularity of traditional American luxury cars and why it's important to collect and preserve them.  All this and more will be covered in Part 2 of our interview!

The automotive dark ages of the late 70s and early 80s are long gone, but there's still an uncomfortable notion in the United States that the rest of the world laughs at our cars.  Many look back on those gas-sucking leviathans with contempt, assuming that if we don't respect the cars we made, why would anybody else?

As I found out, there are quite a few people abroad who love American cars—and not just obvious ones like Mustangs and Corvettes.  There are DeSotos in Sweden,  AMCs in New Zealand, and Cadillacs in Austria.  But what is it about these automobiles that attracts people to them?  The answer seems simple enough; they have big engines, big interiors, and even bigger personalities.  If you grew up in a world where a VW Passat was considered "big," imagine how crazy an Eldorado would seem!  American cars are truly unique in that sense.

Recently, I had the chance to talk with Tom Bringewatt, the owner of a 1972 Lincoln Continental Mark IV in Germany.  I asked him a few questions about what it's like to own an American car in Europe.

Lincoln built the Continental Mark IV from 1972 to 1976.  Earlier ones can be more desirable, as horsepower ratings continued to plunge as emissions laws became stricter.  The Continental Mark IV is notable for re-introducing the rear opera window, which starting a styling fad that would continue throughout the 70s.

Even though we may look down on our automotive past, it's exciting that there are people around the world like Tom, who recognize what makes these American cars so special.  Hopefully he will continue to drive and enjoy his Mark IV for years to come.  I'd like to thank him for sharing his story with us!

Then in 1985, Back to the Future came out and basically immortalized the car.  People forgot about its negative baggage and the DMC-12 became astronomically more popular than it ever was during production.  Even people who didn't know and didn't care about cars loved the DeLorean.  But with this fame comes a problem.  It's pretty much impossible to talk about the car without mentioning the films. 

If you're a DeLorean DMC-12 owner, every parking lot has the possibility of turning into a miniature car show where you're subjected to misquoted movie lines and cheesy jokes about time travel.  While this can be fun, you can only reply "no it's not a real time machine..." so many times before you start to feel beleaguered.

After personally driving a DeLorean for an upcoming episode of AutoMoments, something struck me.  In a way, the car really is a time machine.  Few cars are as stereotypically 80s as the DMC-12.  The lights, the interior, the styling all scream 1980s.  Driving one fills up your senses with the way cars used to be 30 years ago.

In fact, pretty much every well preserved car is a time machine of sorts.  When you sit on the same seats and hold the same steering wheel and start the same engine that somebody 20, 40, or 60 years ago did, it really does transport you back in time.  Even the "old car smell"  I mentioned in our Ford Mustang video had commenters saying they had experienced exactly what I was talking about.  It's those smells, noises, looks, and feels that transport us back every time we drive.

That's why our series is called Time Warp Test Drive.  Like many, I was born too late to have experienced all these cars when they were new, but now I've had the opportunity to figuratively drive back in time.  What's more, I love when I can share this experience with others through our videos, because I hear from people who actually did live through these times, and I also hear from young people who just want to know more.  It really is a special thing.

So even if you can't get your hands on a DeLorean DMC-12, remember that every old car is a time machine, and remember all the history you're experiencing the next time you drive one.  Also remember that where you're going you actually do need roads, because it probably doesn't fly...

     Aside from the token mention of Henry Ford, most high school classes are completely devoid of any automotive history.  For something that has impacted our nation so greatly and for so long, this is really is quite amazing when you think about it.  The style and substance of what we drive reflects the people we were at those times--for better or for worse.  The innocence of the 50s, the freedom of the 60s, the cynicism of the late 70s and the triumphant recovery of the 80s are all mirrored by the cars we drove back then.

     Along with culture are valuable lessons about leadership and business.  We idolize tech giants like Steve Jobs, Bill Gates, and Mark Zuckerberg, but back in the day, Alfred P. Sloan, George Romney, and Lee Iacocca were the type of people who used to grace the cover of TIME Magazine (multiple times):

    Why is it that we only focus on politicians, activists, and war heroes?  The aforementioned men made history not just with the cars they built, but with how they shaped the nation.  Alfred P. Sloan ushered in the trends of yearly model changes and planned obsolescence.  George Romney read between the lines and saw America's need for economical, fuel efficient cars.  Lee Iaccoca helped save the jobs of thousands of hard-working Americans, and helped invent entire genres of cars.  Perhaps if we had paid better attention to the work of these industrial giants, we wouldn't have suffered the catastrophic bankruptcies of two American car companies in the last decade.  Although, someday that too should be a lesson we teach in school.

    There is equal value in learning about the successes and the failures of car companies; perhaps not in history classes, but marketing and PR courses. The stories of strikes and strike breakers, of Ralph Nader and the Corvair, of the Pinto and its exploding gas tank, of Toyotas and "unintended acceleration," of fuel shortages and gas lines, and of so many other things all provide valuable lessons.

   Today, look at the history being made in terms of diversity.  Incredibly talented people like Dodge's Ralph Giles, GM's Mary Barra, and Ford's Raj Nair are making history in what once was a field dominated by white males.  If we shared their stories in schools, we could encourage a whole new generation of kids to pursue careers in the automotive world.

   These ideas are only the tip of the iceberg.  I haven't even started on energy, pollution, and government regulation.  Considering how many subjects I've already touched on, there's now way you could cram them into a 10th grade history class.  You could probably spend an entire college semester studying automotive history and still leave a lot out.

   But my point is this—this history of cars in America is important.  Few industries have impacted so many parts of our daily life for so many years.  Therefore, I think textbooks should mention more than just Henry Ford.  There is certainly value in teaching our children the history of our nation's automobiles; after all, soon they'll be the ones designing, building, buying, and driving them.