Blog

Short blog posts, journal entries, and random thoughts. Topics include a mix of personal and the world at large.

Too easy

Another day, another special edition sports car costing a thick chunk of a million dollars. A collective yawn by the motoring peanut gallery. Because when 60 grand can buy you a used electric vehicle - like a Tesla Model S - that can go toe-to-toe with any car for speed on public roads, manufacturers of the expensive stuff really need to look elsewhere for the differentiation.

When speed is democratized and relatively cheaply available, it no longer matters that the new Lamborghini model can go 0-60 miles-an-hour in under 2.5 seconds. Who cares? Going fast is mere table stakes at this point. What else are you offering that pleasures the other senses? How does a car make the driver feel?

Give Porsche credit: the reason 911 GT3s are the wealthy car enthusiasts’ version of Pokemon cards is because they are offering more than just pure speed. A naturally-aspirated flat-six engine that sings a heavenly tune. The best feeling manual transmission on planet earth. Delightfully calibrated and feelsome steering. These are sensations that tingles and fizzes without the need to go outrageous velocities.

Other makers of mass-produced fast cars need to recognize that chasing after ever diminishing speed returns has reached a dead end. Fast EVs have put a death note to that arms race. Now it’s probably true that there’s enough wealth out there that Mercedes-AMG’s half million 30-unit limited edition thing has no problem selling out. But even Affalterbach recognizes that ultimate quickness is no longer the meal ticket. The CLE 646 is real-wheel drive only, and carries not a single cell of hybrid battery onboard.

Perhaps there’s hope! I would certainly like to see more manufactures bring out cars that tug at the enthusiast heart strings, at the sacrifice of fast lap times. Something like the GMA T.50, just, you know, magnitudes cheaper. The Porsche 911 cannot be and remain the only answer, because it’s truly getting boring. When it’s the automatic solution for every car guy tech bro that struck it rich, it’s too easy to the point of uninteresting.

Speed is easy. The 911 is easy. Francis Bourgeois’s - host of The Grand Tour - $70,000 Honda Fit? Now that’s an infinitely interesting way to spend your car enthusiast money. Kudos.

When it was fast

There’s a new release of macOS version 27, and I have to say it’s the first time my M1 Max MacBook Pro is starting to feel sluggish. (The latest Apple chip is the M6.) Adobe Lightroom importing doesn’t feel as snappy as before. More than one Google Chrome tab? Forget about it.

And that’s the problem with computer chips chasing after better performance year after year. The software running on those chips expand to fill the provided bandwidth. Hardware and software progresses symbiotically. With more power, comes more code to use that extra power.

Older hardware gets forsaken and disregarded. My M1 laptop fully supports macOS 27, but let’s be honest, macOS 27 is written for a newer and faster platform. Why wouldn’t Apple optimize their newest operating system to run maximally with their latest hardware? They then throttle down the performance to fit the smaller performance envelopes of the older stuff. Game developers aren’t using the less powerful XBOX Series S as the benchmark; they code for the Series X, then scale it back for the poverty XBOX.

Just as Series S does not run games as well as Series X, my M1 MacBook Pro isn’t running macOS 27 as smoothly as an M5 MacBook Pro. By design.

It didn’t feel this way at first, of course. Any current model year Mac computer feels completely speedy and snappy when first purchased. Even Intel-powered Macs, horrendously slow by today’s standards, was fully adequate when launched. It’s after the first year of ownership, and subsequent years later, when the OS upgrades accumulate, that the sluggishness creeps in. Until about five years later and you feel compelled to upgrade because it all just feels a bit slow.

I will not be buying a new computer this year. The ongoing war in Iran and the latent inflation to come (we haven’t yet seen the full results of the oil shock), it’s important to have reserves for the truly necessary. Because those necessities will and are costing more.

Hate hate hate

If the item you are selling is in any way limited or “collector’s edition”, I absolutely do not want it.

I think it’s anti human to purposely restrict any thing you are selling. Artificial scarcity is the worst manifestation of young children unwilling to share. False status awarded to those who have the special thing, to the exclusion of many others. It’s also anti capitalism. Isn’t the whole point to sell as much of an item as possible? Imagine if the Louvre refuses to sell prints of the Mona Lisa. Because only the original painting is deemed worthy.

Oh, this awesome t-shirt design is restricted to 50 copies - get it why I still can? Nope - it’s not for me. This perfect wheel design is available only to the first 100 orders? Sorry, I will actively boycott your wheel company on principle. When I want something and you won’t sell it to me because of non-technical reasons, the curse is on you. You’re the bad guy.

I derisively laugh at the Pokemon cards craze. Fully grown adults without proper employment waiting in line for hours at Target on a weekday morning. All in the hopes of scoring that special card. I don’t hate the player, though; I hate the game. The incentives are created by The Pokemon Company. Again, it’s anti human to purposely restrict production of the most popular cards. Nothing technical about this at all. It’s all just fancy ink on cardstock.

If there’s a specific card I want, I should be able to go online and buy that precise card directly from the producer. Making your customers jump through hoops for the opportunity to get the card they want is downright hateful. The Pokemon Company actively detest their customers.

Another heat wave done

San Francisco Bay Area just finished its annual heat wave around Labor Day. As I type we are basking in the foggy coolness once more. Thank the heavens for our natural air conditioning.

You know when hot weather rolls around, the official puts out a spare the air alert? That’s purely symbolic, right? Someone isn’t going to see the alert and then go, “You know what? I don’t need to drive today. In fact, I don’t need to go to work!” Especially not in our American individualistic culture. Especially not in the current climate of: “I got mine, fuck you!”

Besides, in this region, a significant percentage of cars are electric. No emissions to begin with. But I’ll have you know I personally decided to not drive my car during yesterday’s 90 degree deluge, even though I needed to move my car back to its typical parking spot post street cleaning. Because I am a citizen of the world. Where is my Eagle Scout badge?

The problem with heatwaves in this region is that it is completely sun. Soon as you go outside, you are beaten down by the ceaseless rays. There’s not a cloud to be found. No momentary shade to salve the heat. I’ve been less miserable in hotter and more humid climates in Asia, because there were plenty of cloud cover to be found. An enclosed oven is more bearable than one with an open flame right above your head.

Good news is there’s only but about two weeks’ worth of days out of the entire year where it is truly uncomfortably hot. No wonder San Francisco’s homeless population is so high. If I were to shack up somewhere out on the streets, the mildly cool year-round climate here is the most logical option.

Give me the money

It’s health care open enrollment season at my place of employment. That means the updated pricing figures for the coming year are out for the respective health plans. It’s always interesting to see just how much the employer is pitching in every month towards my health care. Annualized, it’s over $12,000.

I know that’s a part of my total compensation package, but psychologically it’s not that tangible. It’s money that I don’t see ever. The take-home that reaches the checking account every pay period is what’s most salient. And because I’m rather on the healthy side, my interaction with health care provider doesn’t go beyond the annual physical. So you’re telling me that’s worth $12,000?!

What if that money is given directly to me instead - to use however I want. Now obviously health insurance is important, so I’d still go on the ACA marketplace to buy something. Surely there’s plans that are significantly cheaper than $1,000 a month. Weaker coverage is likely, but I’m okay with paying higher deductibles so long as the true catastrophes are covered. That’s what insurance should be.

What would I do with the leftover cash? Invest it, of course. Compounding is our best friend. If that money is truly considered compensation, then let me decide how to best use it. Throwing money towards good health insurance is not maximizing its utility, given my current station in life. My tune would no doubt change if I were to have dependents.

Isn’t that a big argument against universal healthcare in America: the preservation of choice? That ought to include how much healthcare I want to have, especially if employers are giving out that money regardless. Give me the cash directly, I’ll figure out the rest. It’s like using your personal credit card for work related things and getting reimbursed later: you get to keep the credit card points!

Burdened with perfectionism

Amazon’s The Grand Tour is back with a new series and three new hosts. I have to say that despite the abundance of quality automotive content on YouTube, there is simply no replacement for one thing: cinematography budget. We watch The Grand Tour because it showcases cars in an insanely beautiful way that only a small army of cameramen and support staff can deliver. YouTuber with a consumer drone can create a suitable TEMU facsimile, but are they going to wait hours for the correct sunsetting light for that perfect shot?

Probably not.

The Grand Tour - and the many Youtube channels that do similar content - is proof definitive that cars are meant to be driven and used. Provenance isn’t how much money the owner spent on maintenance. It’s what sort of roads the car has traveled to. What sort of story a particular scratch on the front quarter panel has to tell. A winning race car with many hours of accumulated dirt and scraps on the painted surface is immensely more interesting than the exact car fresh out of the factory. Because it has done something.

Super low mileage museum pieces are a one-trick pony. A time capsule showing a moment in time - when the car was new. There no further story to tell.

But if you’re afflicted with obsessive compulsive behavior like me, it can be very difficult to do things with your cars. Each additional mile, each additional round of maintenance, opens up opportunity for something to get blemished. Something to go wrong. A scratch on the interior plastic pains us deeply. God forbid we curb an alloy wheel - there will be no sleep that night. The peasant amongst us can’t afford to throw money at the problem, either. Paint protection film? I don’t have another $5,000 on top of the price of the car just to protect it from nature.

Of course, perfectionism has its advantages in other domains. Our attention to the details is how we got/get ahead in the workplace. Those of us in the perfectly circular Venn diagram of OCD and car enthusiast need a way to turn down the perfectionism when it comes our automobiles. When cars get used - as well they should - the scars will come. Tackling a first-time project like replacing a glovebox? There’s a good chance something will get mangled. It’s all part of the game.

We should still very much care about the process: of doing things meticulously, and not taking shortcuts. What we shouldn’t do is to let adverse outcomes cripple us from doing anything in the first place. Because we want to have stories to tell.

Right to servicing, right away

Word on the street is the Mazda MX-5 Miata comes out of the factory just sort of aligned. The suspension geometry is within a wide specified threshold, but nothing is precise set and matching. The front wheels can have zero degrees of camber and it would be considered satisfactory. This is kind of surprising because such a lightweight sports car is very sensitive to differing geometry. You’d think Mazda would want to set it down perfectly so that potential buyers experience the optimum setup on the test drive.

It’s very unusual to take your brand new car in for an alignment service. Typically you do so after a few years’ worth of mileage. Even the ultra meticulous Porsche owners don’t take their 911 right to a suspension shop from the dealership. Nevertheless, I booked my 2026 MX-5 with a local performance shop to do the alignment, and realized two things.

One is the issue of the manual transmission. With less and less cars being fitted with a manual, you’ve got a generation of people who has never interacted with an H-pattern gear lever. These same people now work in automotive shops. You bring your rare manual gearbox car to a tire place, and it’s very possible that none of the staff there can move it onto the ramps. You wouldn’t know any better until you pick up the car and immediately wonder why it smells so much of burned clutch material.

This is why when I fitted a secondary set of wheels onto my Miata, I transported the wheels and tires separately to America’s Tire. Whatever I can to avoid trusting another person to drive the manual.

But it’s likely not possible to avoid it forever. What if there’s a manufacture recall? Outside of a Porsche dealership, I personally am not confident another brand of dealer will for sure have someone who knows how to drive stick shift. Even for Mazda, a brand that sells the most iconic manual roadster of all time.

The second realization is: you ever noticed most automotive service shops are not open on the weekends? I am super fortunate to have a job where I can call out for a few hours to take my cars in for servicing - whilst still getting paid. Krista the barista at the local coffee joint can probably call out too, but during those hours she is not getting paid. It’s a sort self perpetuating hole the working class finds themselves in. They can’t afford a brand new car - less chances of something going wrong, but they also cannot afford to take time off to service their used cars.

“Just buy used and take care of it” is not as easy in reality as it is pithily said. The very people that can use that advice often cannot do so because none of the service shops are open on the weekends.

My local America’s Tire is open on Saturdays, but you should see the absolute humanity that crushes into the store for those precious weekend hours.