Why Mr. Solara? Why?

 

On the way to work this morning, I saw a Toyota Solara with a vinyl top. I just stared and said, "Why?"

You might be thinking, "So what, Jay?"

First of all, I think you would have to go back to the late 70s or maybe early 80s to find a Toyota that left the factory with a vinyl top. Toyota never, ever put a vinyl top on a Solara. That means somebody went to an automotive upholstery shop and paid good American dollars to have that done. 

Again you might be thinking, "So what, Jay?"

Here's the thing. A vinyl top is the worst of all worlds. It's all the maintenance issues of a convertible with none of the benefits. 

Then one might say, "Jay, a convertible top doesn't require maintenance. You just wash it with the rest of the car."

Vinyl tops and convertibles need cleaning, conditioning and protection. It's important to wash with a soft bristle brush - nothing too abrasive. Your local auto parts store likely carries a soap intended for convertible tops. Then apply a specialized UV-blocking protectant or repellent. If the material isn't clean and protected, it will dry out and crack. With a vinyl top, that means you go from bad to worse. With a convertible, that means your top is no longer keeping out water.

In addition to all that, it's a very dated look. Vinyl tops were allegedly popular because they gave a car a more high-end look at lower cost. Personally, I've always thought they looked stupid and did nothing but provide rust a place to form.

I realize this is an awful lot of thought to devote to the roof of a Toyota Solara. But that's how my brain works. I see a vinyl roof on a Toyota on the way to work, ask myself, “Why would anyone do that?” and two hours later I'm reading about convertible-top care and the history of vinyl roofs.

So, I still don't know what possessed Solara guy to put a vinyl top on a perfectly good coupe. Whatever the reason, I'm sure Solara guy and I are never going to agree.

I Notice When You Endanger Me

A morning commute, a gold Mercedes E-Class, and a reminder that aggressive driving isn't just about how fast you go.  

I'd like to address the lady in the gold E-Class Mercedes who passed me on the way to work today, and people like her whose priorities are out of whack.

Let's call her Goldilocks.

I was on I-516 in the left lane behind an HVAC service truck. We were both cruising along at 65 in a 55 when I spotted the gold E-Class coming up on me pretty quickly in the rearview mirror.

I thought to myself, If I'm doing 65, Goldilocks must be pushing triple digits.

I decided that if she was driving that fast, she was probably capable of all kinds of bad judgment. So I moved over to the right lane.

If you'd asked me ahead of time whether there was enough room between me, in the right lane, and the service truck, ahead of me in the left lane, for Goldilocks to pass, I'd have said, "Um, no fucking way."

Goldilocks had other ideas.

She carved herself a middle lane and passed me at a rather uncomfortable distance, then squeezed past the service truck, also uncomfortably close from my perspective.

I guess the kamikaze pass shook both me and the guy in the service truck a little, because the next thing I remember, I looked down at the speedometer and saw that I was doing 75.

Wait. What the hell am I doing?

I eased off the gas until I was back around 65.

Goldilocks was already so far ahead of me that I'm guessing she was, in fact, hitting the triple digits I'd imagined earlier.

Now, it's not my job to tell people how fast to drive. It's none of my business—until you endanger the people around you.

I notice when you endanger me, Goldilocks.

I understand being in a hurry. I understand the desire to drive enthusiastically. Hell, I enjoy driving too.

What I don't understand is following too closely, changing lanes without signaling, or driving erratically in close proximity to other people.

If you want to drive like you're late for something, that's your business.

But challenge yourself, Goldilocks.

Think about somebody besides yourself for a change.