Whither 50 mpg?

You just might have noticed that gasoline has gotten a lot more expensive.

I can remember paying $.789 per gallon as recently as March 1998. On a trip to Atlanta, I ran my Oldsmobile Intrigue, a V6-powered medium-large sedan, to below the E and filled it up for $13. That was just ten years ago. Hard to believe, isn't it?

Remember when "five bucks' worth" would haul a car full of teenagers around all evening?

Now that fill-ups are about as pleasant as prostate exams, I've heard "why can't these manufacturers build me a truly fuel-efficient car? Why, I had a Honda CRX 20 years ago that was rated at 50 mpg!" or a similar sentiment, more than once. Why can't they? Two big reasons.

The first is that EPA fuel economy estimates are now calculated differently. The old methods were a joke, figuring highway numbers at 45 mph with no air conditioning, and other similarly ridiculous criteria. The new numbers are intended to reflect actual conditions much more accurately. Consequently, they're actually attainable by mere mortals, but they're also not nearly as stratospheric as they once were.

The second is that cars have seriously porked out, and that's your fault. Mine? Yes, yours. What the hell do you mean, Bo? Two sides of that story:

• Today cars must comply with a whole host of federal standards, primarily safety- and emissions-related, that didn't exist when that CRX was prowling the streets. Side-impact protection? Frontal offset crash protection? Airbags? Low Emission Vehicle certification? More metal, more metal, more metal, and more metal. Why is it your fault? You elected Congress, did you not? I'm not saying these federal standards are bad things on balance, but they aren't free, folks.
• Additionally, our sybaritic standards have increased dramatically over the past 20 to 30 years. Today's typical "stripper" automobile contains a level of equipment more in line with what a family sedan contained in 1985. Today's "mainstream" family sedan is often a nicer place to be than the living room in the home to which it's driven. And today's luxury automobile was barely conceivable two decades ago. You want your real wood and leather, your mega-CD changers, your automatic climate control, your power everything, your navigation systems, your DVD players, your Bluetooth connectivity, your seat heaters, and the rest of it. I understand, because I like the toys too. But again, they aren't free.

The first-generation (1984-87) CRX HF weighed 1713 lbs. The current Toyota Yaris 3-door, which does have a back seat but is probably the closest current market analog to that car, weighs 2293. A Hyundai Accent comes in at 2496. Even a bare-bones Smart fortwo weighs 1808 lbs. More weight burns more gasoline. Period.

I mentioned in the previous post that we had added a Nissan Versa to the fleet at my house (review coming soon). It's unambiguously a small car. We intend for it to be the car for a single adult at our house, which means I'll drive it to work, and Lea will drive it in the evening to visit friends, make a Target run, or whatever. I'll consider it a highly successful addition if I can get 30 mpg out of it, though I'll settle for 28 without making any further effort.

It weighs 2745 lbs, which is almost exactly what a 1991 Honda Accord weighs.

What to do?

First, adjust your expectations. The EPA numbers of days gone by were largely fantasies, and cars do a lot more now than they did then. Second, make sure you're doing the things that have always made sense and still do—avoid jackrabbit starts, brake intelligently, maintain correct tire pressure, and the like. Third, know that you can move deep into the 40s on mpg and perhaps touch 50 from time to time with a current offering, but as of today it takes a hybrid, and it must be driven carefully. Unfortunately, there isn't yet one under $20,000 that will give you the numbers.

Finally, and most importantly, realize that the upward shift in gasoline prices is almost certainly permanent. The price may come down some, but $1.50/gallon is gone forever. Also realize that oil is going to matter for quite some time to come. Manufacturers are working feverishly to bring better battery technologies to market, both for hybrids and for pure electric vehicles, and hydrogen vehicles are coming, but not tomorrow.

For several more years, it's petroleum, boys and girls. Drive smartly.

Miss Belvedere: Pretty rough, even for a 50-year-old hag

In June 1957, the city of Tulsa placed a time capsule underground near the courthouse. The most famous item buried was a 1957 Plymouth Belvedere. Contest entrants wrote down what they thought the population of Tulsa would be in 2007, with the closest (or his/her closest living relative) winning the car when it was unearthed, 50 years forward.

Said unearthing occurred recently, and the winner is R.E. Humbertson, who put Tulsa's 2007 population at 384,743. (The official U.S. Census count is 382,457.) Think he wants it?



Its vault was said to be able to withstand a nuclear attack, but apparently not water. Clearly a concrete vault above ground would have made more sense, but that lacks romance, doesn't it? Oh, well. At least the phrase "low miles" can be accurately applied to "Miss Belvedere," as it's being called.

Still, I expect someone will restore it. Several pieces will be fine once cleaned up. Objectively it's a slam-dunk that it will cost more to put it right than the car will likely be worth, but at the same time, the car's history may offset more of that difference than I think.

Thanks to kotv.com for the images.

Don't stand down until you're done

After I graduated but before I started working as a writer, I sold Acuras and GMC trucks for Jerry Damson. Told a couple of stories already on my primary blog, here and here.

I was young and new to the business, so I relied heavily on the advice of my colleagues early on. Among many other things that I didn't believe and later discovered were absolutely true, my colleagues told me that there was often little rhyme or reason to the way someone negotiated. A few customers would do anything as long as the payment was agreeable. Others might lie down on the price and then fight a steel cage match with you over half a percentage point on the interest rate. You just never knew, so you had to be ready for anything.

Jim illustrated that well. He was shopping for a new car for his 16-year-old daughter, and an Integra was on his short list. Oh, I had my heart and soul invested in Jim. He'd been coming in for two months. I'd met his entire family on multiple occasions. I'd taught his daughter to drive a manual transmission (which I had a financial interest in, as the 5-speed was $800 less than the automatic). He was a jovial fellow and fun to visit with, and he kept coming back to see me, but I'd begun to think I was never going to sell him a car. He was just never ready to do anything.

Finally one day he pulled up, and I started walking toward him. He held his checkbook up and smiled. "Yes!" I thought. "Today's the day!" I'd had a bad week, and I needed this one.

We sat in my office. "Bo, I have a number," he said. He wrote it down and passed it to me. "We're not going to talk about it. If you can do it, I'll buy the car. If you can't, I'm buying the car down the street." I looked at the number, and it wasn't ridiculous, but I was going to have trouble selling it to my boss. I opened my mouth, and he said "no, I said we weren't going to talk about it. Go see if you can do it."

I took my boss the number. He looked away from his screen for three seconds and said "you know we can't do that. Let him go and catch somebody else." I said "Steve, I estimate I've got 14 to 16 hours in this guy, and three minutes ago is the first time he's ever talked price. If he leaves without our car, he says he's going to go buy a Celica, and I believe him. Please go talk to him one more time." He looked at me, looked across at my office, took my clipboard, and got up.

I sat in the other chair so I could see. Steve walked across the showroom to my office. I swallowed hard and tried not to think about the ice cream I'd bought, the times I'd experienced his daughter stalling the car in the YMCA parking lot trying to learn to drive it, and the customers I hadn't been able to talk to because I was trying to close Jim.

Watch for a handshake, and watch the faces. The handshake itself doesn't mean much--could be "thanks for coming in"--but the handshake with two big smiles was good news. And finally, that's exactly what happened. I knew it was only $100 in my pocket--a "mini-deal"--but it was a unit, and it was fruit from this long, involved cultivation.

Steve opened the door to his office, and he had information I didn't have. "It's a mini, but have Ken look at his trade."

"Trade?" I'd asked him three or four times; he always said no.

"Yeah, that Astro." He pointed. "He thinks it's worth $1000, so this may get better for you yet."

Well, what do you know? The Astro was pretty damned nice. No six-year-old GM anything was worth much, relatively, but this was a straight, clean car with reasonable miles and everything worked. New white-letter tires. Looked ready for a trip to the beach.

Looking at my eventual commission on that sale, which wasn't huge but was significantly more than $100, I'd guess that Astro was worth $1800 wholesale.

Who's looking out for you? Nobody but you. What do you want to pay when you buy a car? As little as possible. That's axiomatic. What does the dealer want to get when selling you a car? As much as possible. That's axiomatic, too. Both statements are morally and ethically neutral: they just are. Keep it in mind until you're all the way done!

Images are from respective company literature.