I’ve been trying to take a break from the usual, that being the multinational pastime - wholesale slaughter. Given life in these parts, you wouldn’t think that to be the case, but as sure as there’s a Super Bowl’s in January, the world just doesn’t seem to be able to get enough of it. It’s like the crack of nations.
When I was a kid there were Coke commercials that promised a brighter tomorrow. I believed them. I was 10.
You see my point.
Mind you, while we like to participate in the multinational pastime as much as the next guy, we’ve not yet built any venues to host games. Instead, we prefer to play away games - in our away kits.
Sure there’s the odd time that, by accident, another team receives a fax that’s garbled and thinks that a game’s been scheduled over here. On those rare occasions, which are few and far between, we act like it’s the end of the world forgetting that we’ve won the league the last 50 years running.
You know, I’ve always though that the ‘Super Bowl’ was about the stupidest name for an event in sports history. I mean, what would have been wrong with naming it the Vince Lombardi Bowl? I suppose, given that all of the classy bowl names were taken, such as ‘The Rose Bowl’, the only thing the NFL come up with was ‘Super’.
You just know that there was some clown in the room that day that blurted out – “what about the Super-Duper Bowl”!
Only in America.
Then again, they do have the World Series, which, even though it has nothing whatsoever to do with the world, is still a decent name, though somewhat arrogant. But given its history, and the fact that I’m a ball fan, who’s to argue?
On To Proper Pastimes
Becks is training with us. Not that he’s joining the squad or anything, just keeping fit before returning to Los Angeles to sit on the sidelines for another season holding his ankle. You have to wonder, were he actually to suit up in a Gunners kit if he’d suddenly overcome those injuries that have plagued him over the last year.
Say what you will about David Beckham, but there is no denying that, in his prime, he was one of the most magnificent midfielders in football history. His insights and ability to cross footballs with unconscious accuracy was something to behold. I’ll not deny that looking at that that picture, and seeing him adorned in an Arsenal training top, doesn’t send boyish tingles up my spine. Not that we need him, mind you, we’re not exactly playing crap football at the moment, but it’s a nice picture to have nonetheless. It’s no mystery why he didn’t return to United to train, there is certainly no love loss between him and Alex Ferguson. Being that we’re currently on top, and his goal is to impress Fabio Capello in hopes of winning a spot on the National squad, and thus acquire his centennial cap, it only stands to reason that he’d approach Arsene Wenger for the favour.
47 Floors
A New York window washer plunged 47-stories on December 7th of last year. His brother was killed instantly in the accident while he sustained massive injuries – “severe brain, spine and abdomen injuries and both his legs, his right arm and ribs were broken”.
But after nine operations, the 37 year old Ecuadorian immigrant is now awake, responsive, able to talk, and is expected to walk again.
I, The Horrible Hypocrite
Like a lot of men, I have a thing for cars. Call it a result of the time in which I grew up.
Like countless others, my first car was a piece of utter crap. In fact, I had to climb through the passenger door because the driver’s side door was permanently sealed with Bondo and duct tape. I drove that car, a 1979 Plymouth Sapporo, into the ground. When I went in to have my breaks looked at one day some years later, the mechanic told me that were I to hit a serious bump going over 70 or 80 kilometers the car had a decent chance of breaking in two. In the end I got $50 bucks for it at a scrap yard, which was a decent return considering that I originally paid $500 dollars for it.
In my early 20’s, when I moved downtown, I didn’t have a car. Thus, when the band started to do well, and I started to make some money, I found myself, at the age of 28, with the financial ability to get something new. Being that I lived across the street from a Toyota dealership at the time, I thought ‘what the hell, there’s nothing wrong with Toyotas’, and wandered over there one afternoon in an attempt to lease a car from them.
Adorned in combat pants, ragged suede Pumas, a ball cap, and a long-sleeve t-shirt, I walked around the small showroom for about a half an hour before I was finally forced to hunt down a salesperson. The look that I received from him was one of trepidation and disgust, which led to him making my inquiries into their various automobiles both pointless and, quite frankly, embarrassing. The long and the short of it was that, having eyed me up and down, he didn’t think that I had any money.
In this town that’s actually not uncommon. People with money, or who pretend to have it, quite often ensure that they look the part. I, on the other hand, having been used to not having money, didn’t factor that in. As far as I was concerned I just wanted a car and they sold cars – easy enough.
So, dejected, and rather pissed off, I jumped back across the street to my apartment and made a few phone calls.
In the weeks that followed I went to numerous dealerships, all of them domestic, and at all of them encountered the same attitude. In fact, most of the salespeople might as well have been selling Ferraris given how they handled themselves – that being that Ferraris sell themselves and there was no need to bother with actually employing a level of customer service that evoked a warm, fuzzy feeling in the individual looking to purchase. Ironically, since then, I have actually been in two different Ferrari dealerships, both times just for fun, and the level of professionalism and attention displayed by the staff was unbelievable.
Which brings me to how I ended up at a BMW dealership.
The first time that I walked into Brian Jessel BMW, which was then in Coquitlam, the attention to customer service and the professionalism displayed by the staff was overwhelming. I have, since that day, leased or bought all of the cars that I have had since entirely because of the individuals that work there, their conduct, their friendliness, and, most importantly, the stellar service that they continue to provide long after you’ve driven off of their lot.
I’m not trying to promote anything here, just relaying an experience. Had the same thing happened at Ford or GM, then I would probably have ended up being a loyal customer of theirs. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.
In truth, I don’t actually drive all that often. Of all the cars I’ve leased, none of them have ever accumulated over 20,000 Km. Added to that, I have also been impatiently waiting for BMW to produce a hybrid of some kind, or at least a more fuel-efficient car that doesn’t require high-grade fuel. But my loyalty to them remains intact, primarily because of their actions following my divorce.
Having lost my car in my divorce, I was in need of something that could transport my dogs and a fair bit of luggage. At the time I wasn’t in the best of emotional states, was squatting at my folks having been the one forced out of the apartment, and was in need of a new vehicle. Understanding my predicament, the dealership, which had since moved to the Vancouver-Burnaby border, sent someone out to Maple Ridge to pick me up, test drive a vehicle on the way back, and then took care of everything for me in a single sitting so that I could leave with a car. If my dealings with them prior to that time hadn’t made me a solid customer, their actions that day made me a life-long one.
When it comes right down to it, I’m a very practical person. I’m the sort of guy that buys one pair of jeans a year. That said, when it comes to cars I take a very practical approach. But that doesn’t mean that, in the past, I haven’t been a typical male idiot either. For a time I owned what is now a very rare and sought after car, a 2001 M Coupe. Driving it was, in truth, what I’d imagine driving the space shuttle would be like. I loved it, it loved me; we got along well, didn’t play well with others, and eventually parted ways because something more practical was needed. Having put next to no kilometers on it, it was eventually re-sold to a chap out east who, when he got it, decided to take it out in the snow and wrapped it around a street lamp – writing it off.
And yes, I did hold a candlelight vigil.
Anyway, the reason that I’ve brought all of this up, knowing full well that many who read this will point fingers and accuse me of being a complete hypocrite, is because I wanted to mention a cool new car that’s coming out this spring.
The new 1 Series has already been released in Europe. It comes in a variety of styles – coupe, cabriolet, 3-door, and 5-door, and is probably the most economical car that they have produced to date (comparable in price to the Volkswagen Golf). Unfortunately, in North America, only the coupe and cabriolet versions will be available. A review in the Sunday Times (UK) by Jeremy Clarkson derided the car, claiming that BMW has sunk to new levels by producing a ‘family hatchback’. Of course, this is the same chap that test-drives Bugatti’s, so it’s to be expected.
Now, if they’d only make a freaking hybrid version!