I am fascinated by Natalie Neff, road test editor at AutoWeek, and have been ever since I saw her running around at NAIAS '07. I was in a suit and heels, as I had been for two straight days, and was worn down from trying to make a good impression on everyone I met. Along came Ms. Neff, who was climbing in and around all the cars... dressed comfortably. I admired her ballsiness, and yeah, I was jealous.
Since then, I've been a regular reader of her column. Some I like, some I don't like. I thought this week's was worth pointing out.
Friday, June 15, 2007
I'm judgmental
Let's discuss biases, shall we?
I have a mere 15-mile commute from work. It takes me an hour to get home, despite the fact that I sneak out of the office at 3:59 pm and am on the road at 4:05 at the absolute latest. When I arrive home, I park my car in the municipal garage attached to my apartment, which is shared with train commuters during the workweek. Those commuters are fighting to get down as I'm fighting to get up, and since I care about my car more than they care about theirs, I am usually the one to defer.
15 miles of stop-and-go, knowing it will end with this daily battle, puts me in something of a nasty mood from the start.
I am prone to road rage, but what concerns me is the road rage is highly dependent upon the type of vehicle involved. If I'm cut off by something "neutral" (say, a Jeep Cherokee) my yell is something along the lines of, "Get out of my way, bonehead." If I'm cut off by something more offensive, it becomes, "Get your effing ugly-ass Daewoo out of my way, you cheap, miserable, style-less son of a bitch."
Accurate, but still a cause for concern.
Commuting in Chicagoland's going to be the death of me.
I have a mere 15-mile commute from work. It takes me an hour to get home, despite the fact that I sneak out of the office at 3:59 pm and am on the road at 4:05 at the absolute latest. When I arrive home, I park my car in the municipal garage attached to my apartment, which is shared with train commuters during the workweek. Those commuters are fighting to get down as I'm fighting to get up, and since I care about my car more than they care about theirs, I am usually the one to defer.
15 miles of stop-and-go, knowing it will end with this daily battle, puts me in something of a nasty mood from the start.
I am prone to road rage, but what concerns me is the road rage is highly dependent upon the type of vehicle involved. If I'm cut off by something "neutral" (say, a Jeep Cherokee) my yell is something along the lines of, "Get out of my way, bonehead." If I'm cut off by something more offensive, it becomes, "Get your effing ugly-ass Daewoo out of my way, you cheap, miserable, style-less son of a bitch."
Accurate, but still a cause for concern.
Commuting in Chicagoland's going to be the death of me.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Welcome!
Welcome to Vanity Plate, the observations and musings of two women whose lives, for better or for worse, revolve around the auto industry. That's how we met, where we work, where we play, and we can't escape it long enough to blog about anything else.
Although we are both published freelance writers, Vanity Plate was born out of a need for more, to write what we want, when we want, without depending on the needs and whims of existing publications.
We'll be moving this blog to our own URL in the near future, but for now, enjoy.
Although we are both published freelance writers, Vanity Plate was born out of a need for more, to write what we want, when we want, without depending on the needs and whims of existing publications.
We'll be moving this blog to our own URL in the near future, but for now, enjoy.
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