The CEOs of the Big Three headed back to Washington this week (car pooling this time), hands out, looking for bailout money. Even more than they got turned down for last time.
Some think they should get the bail out. Some want them to crash and burn… “$34 billion? I don’t know, I’ll have to talk to my manager…”
Sure these guys have made mistakes. Sure they took millions in compensation while their companies tanked. Teetering on dragging millions of jobs and entire industries down with them. But I’m no economic genius. I can’t tell you what’ll happen if they get the money, or what the consequences would be if they don’t. But I do know this – love them or hate them, we have a lot to thank the Big Three for. And here’s why:
No one builds cars with balls better than Detroit. We love horsepower and big blocks and Hemis and ridiculously low 0-60 times. Plus, no guy ever sat in his driveway for an hour revving the engine of his Accord.
We don’t invent them, there’s none of those Soccer Moms we love.
Imagine there was never a Crown Vic. Now imagine our police having to drive those pansy euro cop cars with that siren that sounds like a dying donkey. Exactly.
Like a rock and built ram tough. And try telling a Texas good ol’ boy he’s gotta hang his longhorns on a Tundra.
TV & Movie Classics
The Bandit outrunning Smokey in a Datsun. Bullitt chasing the hit men through the streets of San Francisco in a Celica. The Duke boys hood sliding across an orange Corolla.
Elvis gave them away and Springsteen sang about them. Pimps wouldn’t be as pimp without them, and wiseguys? Fuggeddaboudit. And what’s more pathetic than a rapper and his posse rolling in a CR-V on dubs?
“Mustang Sally”, “Pink Cadillac”, “Little Deuce Coupe”, “Little Red Corvette”, “409″, “Coupe de Ville”, “From a Buick 6″, “Hot Rod Lincoln”. Just to name a few.