What if your backside is your upside--especially by a wide margin?

Without even looking at the boat, I found myself mooning over this 1950 Packard station wagon.

It makes me want to watch a Bing Crosby movie.

"Put your wheel right on the rock!"

Here are a few of my previously unshared pictures from last summer’s adventure in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Automobile Magazine assigned me to participate in the “long-lead” press preview of the 2012 Wrangler, which received a new engine and transmission for the model year. Jeep flew in writers from 4 Wheel & Off Road, Autoweek, Car and Driver, Four Wheeler, Popular Mechanics, and Road & Track. On July 7, everybody arrived in Reno and shuttled up to Squaw Valley. The next morning we drove Wrangler Saharas from Squaw along the northwestern shore of Lake Tahoe before turning west into the Eldorado National Forest and finding the trailhead at Airport Flat (seen, right). There were a few campers and lots of interesting trail rigs. At this point, we climbed into Wrangler Rubicons for the traversal. The Saharas were driven back to Squaw by Jeep’s support staff members.

As mentioned in my Times story, winter had hung on a long time in the Sierra, and the trail only opened recently. In fact, we were told snow remained on the upper part, which we wouldn’t even attempt because it meant doing very technical four-wheeling and there wasn’t  time allotted for this. Besides, think of the mess! So we would camp at Rubicon Springs the first night and fly out from Observation Point next morning. Meantime, there was quite a lot of traffic on the trail as various clubs and groups took advantage of the season’s first opportunity, which was only a few days after the July 4 weekend. Trail workers said they’d never seen conditions so challenging, with lots of rocks and water obstacles. And the mechanical breakdowns of some of the more experimental rigs held up everybody.

This eye-catcher happened to be fitted with a four-wheel steering system. You can see the rear wheel is bending in. But I think there was a mechanical problem that needed to be addressed because he laid by the side of the trail after clearing this obstacle.

The all-stock Wrangler Rubicons in our press fleet handled everything on the trail.

Well, yes, the strap did come out once.

Darkness had fallen when we finally got into camp at Rubicon Springs. The piano player jangled away everybody's fatigue, though. There was a late steak dinner, and then we went to bed.

And I'll be damned if the piano player wasn't back again at about 5.30 a.m., tickling those ivories and waking us in our individual tents.

The morning's first trail challenge was Cadillac Hill. (Jeep conquers Cadillac!) During the climb, ace photographer A.J. Mueller got a cheesecake shot of Sourdough Hill.

Soon after Cadillac Hill, we arrived at Observation Point, and the chopper took us back to Squaw Valley, three reporters at a time.

Not to be overambitious, but I have resolutions for 2012. This could be a first. I can’t remember making resolutions about anything other than the number of books to read and my intended faithfulness in journal writing. (I’ve never been so foolish as to pledge a daily blog post.) Resolutions just have self-defeat built right in, like the sulphur stink at a hot springs. Why put the goat horns on my own head?

With 2012 looming, there’s a difference, a practicality about my resolutions. To be specific, I don’t have to give up anything. Beer, chocolate, swearing, berating individual laggards and institutional laxity, laying rubber in school zones, switching candidates and parties at the last minute, slicing prints out of volumes in the Rare Books Room–hallelujah, I can keep it up!

I expect to keep my resolutions because each is a positive step, an incremental gain and not an excremental pain. If I fail one day, the next will bring me ahead. And in fact, in one case, all that’s needed is cash.

1. Get an iPad. It’s either this or pro lenses for my Canon EOS 50D. A hardware upgrade every year is a good idea. But I can probably get by with the  current lenses, one of which, it just occurred to me, will celebrate its twentieth birthday in 2012. This last year was the designee for a smart phone, and my iPhone, purchased right after my move to California in May, is a delight and a wonder. So even though it’s impossible to see why it’s really needed, I want an iPad. And buying something is never a hard resolution to keep.
2. Take pics of my contacts. For instance, my landlord was here today. While he got a vacant unit ready to show, wearing his alma mater Stanford’s T-shirt and a pair of shorts on Dec. 26, it never occurred to me to take his picture. All that’s needed is a mug shot. On the other hand, the guy who set up my account at Comerica Bank’s Pasadena branch got all squirmy when I took his picture, so it was deleted. He’s originally from Bolivia; maybe that makes him believe a photo captures his soul. Or he doesn’t want to be associated with the paltry interest he’s paying.
3. Stop blurting out “I read that such and such” or “I read about that in” as a preface to my remarks. What am I, a walking bibliography? It’s probably irritating to hang out with someone so precious.

As you can see, success is built into the program. Even if a year from now I’m only five percent better, I’m still five percent better.

In fact, I might start thinking in broader terms for 2013, and grander yet for 2014 and 2015, because it could lead to my publishing a self-help book: How to Stop Smoking, Lose Weight, and Quit Giving Blow Jobs in Public Toilets. This would be the first of a series.

Then I hit the road as a motivational speaker.

Is that overambitious?

Best of Big Red

6891 A St., #105

Lincoln, NE 68510

Greetings:

I would like to acknowledge receipt of a sweatshirt by second-day air, and it showed up at my door on Dec. 23, fulfilling the hope that after sending off a check on Sep. 23, I’d finally have the sweatshirt by Christmas.

Just to review: I ordered the Pelini Crewneck Sweatshirt (AS-10603) in Medium, but it was too big. So I returned it around the second week of October with a note saying that even after a washing, it didn’t fit. There followed no news whatsoever as to the status of my order (invoice number 3971, date Sept. 30, 2011). Around Halloween I called up and got a rather snooty woman who said that Normally if Someone Washes a Garment It Isn’t Returnable, But This One Looked Like New So It Still Could Fill an Order.

Please allow me to point out that the shipment had arrived at my door with a Returns and Exchanges notice, a copy of which I’m enclosing. On this notice, no mention is made about exceptions pertaining to the washing of garments. Besides which, one becomes used to dealing with Land’s End and other catalog companies, as well as direct retailers like Macy’s, who take back their merchandise and no questions asked.

So when I called up toward the end of November and got the same lickspittle on the line, she said, “Oh, you’re the one who washed his shirt?” OK, let me observe that the customer is not to fucking blame, and I think there’s probably some nepotism going on at your shitty little company Best of Big Red.

My hope for the New Year is that things get straightened out at Osborne Familyland in the event that I’d like to order more of the brilliantly designed merchandise that you monopolize.

And thanks for the sweatshirt that I didn’t order.

Best wishes,

Ronald Ahrens

Cc: Addidas Customer Service and my blog.

As we reporters left the lab, we were invited each to take home his “goody bag” of $600-worth of Harbor Freight tools. For those of us—including me—who had gone out there on our motorcycles, they would ship everything to our homes.

Motoring back through the San Fernando Valley, I thought maybe I should’ve just stated for the record, before departing Calabasas, that I couldn’t accept $600-worth of tools (and don’t need them anyway), but thank you very much.

So a few days passed without a deliveryman’s knock. Was I off the hook?

Then one afternoon, I returned from an errand and found a ninety-five pound box on my porch. Can you imagine what the shipping charges were?

I dragged the box over the threshold and opened the lid to find not only sockets and adjustable wrenches, but also power tools. Because my neighbor had suffered the theft of some tools, I let him have the ratchet and sockets and three of the four adjustable wrenches. (I greedily kept the six-inch one, as well as the torque wrench.) But what was I going to do with everything else? I felt unsure about giving them to a charity for resale. Might they not go out the back door?

My friend Andy suggested a donation to the local high school’s automotive program. This seemed an excellent idea. I got in touch with Monrovia High School’s Phillip Jelinek, who came to my place. A modest, white-bearded fellow, Jelinek opened up the hatch of his Prius. While we loaded the tools, he explained that he’s president of the California Automotive Teachers. Moreover, he’s faculty advisor for the Monrovia kids’ effort in the Shell Eco-marathon. So this isn’t just your average auto shop program. He also told how his former students are at service departments and parts counters all around the San Gabriel Valley

Soon, he drove off; I said good-bye to the tools and forgot about them—until today, when I came home to find a manila envelope at my door. It contained a dozen thank-you notes. Jelinek had waited till Christmas break and distributed the tools to his kids. The notes are simply delightful. Here are the best, faithfully transcribed:

“Thank you for donating the ½” impact wrench I will be using it to help restore a 57’ Ford”

“This digital caliper will realy help me in my quest to because a car designer.”

“This battery charger is going to be really useful for my moms car.”

“Thank you very much for donating this wonderful floor jack, I will be using it daily to work on my families car doing basic minor repairs.”

“Thank you for donating so much to our Monrovia High School Auto Shop. I personally received an infrared thermometer and have been taking the temp of different things all day. I have always wanted and need one for my RC cars. I plan to use it to record the temp of the little nitro engine, to tell whether it’s over heating, and adjust the fuel mix accordingly.”

And finally…

My name is (female name) and I wanted to thank you for donating the Variable Speed Multi-Function Power Tool. It’s going to be nice for building reptile cages with my brother.”

Besides the fact that a girl who builds reptile cages with her brother is evidence that kids are being brought up right in this town, I now have proof that giving away the tools was the correct thing to do. And when I didn’t initially find the poetry in the visit to Harbor Freight Tools, it was a good choice to hold off writing. As it turns out, the story came to my door.

Janice Kakish sized up the 2012 Triumph Tiger Explorer 1200 at the Progressive Insurance International Motorcycle Show, which opened today in the Long Beach Convention Center.

And why shouldn’t she snarl for my camera?

Baggy Paragraphs photo @ 2011

In Jeffrey Eugenides’s remarkable and absorbing work “The Marriage Plot: A Novel,” the plot is paramount yet sometimes nearly invisible as the reader gets lost in the minds of the three main characters, who are just finishing their college careers at Brown University. Mitchell Grammaticus, Madeleine Hanna, and Leonard Bankhead are heading different directions, and in fact their travels to Cape Cod, Paris and Monaco, and Calcutta receive the full benefit of Mr. Eugenides’s extraordinary novelistic gifts. But it’s the questing that fascinates. Mitchell is after meaning and truth, while Leonard is in the grips of madness. Maddy delays her own independence and the pursuit of her career in order to sojourn with Leonard. The story weaves back and forth, but the reader is barely aware of the high-wire act the author must do in order to keep it together. There are dazzling long sequences with never a wasted word and dead-on dialogue: even the secondary characters’ voices are unique and recognizable. It’s a rare thing to find a novel this high-minded yet gripping, and several of the twists and turns elicit vocalizations: chortling or gasping. (The scene that has Maddy and the manic Leonard checking into their Monaco hotel blends the two.) It continues this way, right down to the revelation on the last page, when the story concludes in the only plausible way, and the three main characters are nobler for the experience.