V.I.S.I.T: Ural 750- A Great Escape from sobriety

I recently had cause to partake in a corporate event. It was based at the London Shuffle Club, Europe’s first all shuffleboard venue. The club premises drip with character; based in part of the old Truman Brewery in Shoreditch, London, only the bare minimum of gentrification has been performed before the doors were opened to guests.

Along with ‘distressed’ peeling paint, ‘authentic’ rusting metalwork and ‘chic’ exposed concrete, the atmosphere of the club was further enhanced by a certain amount of set-dressing. Lighting was provided by strings of exposed bulbs, old industrial furniture was placed along side modern desks and facilities, and there were plenty of details that had obviously endured their fair share of history. Prince among accessories, though, was that which housed a Prosecco dispenser.

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Finding inspiration: Where will retro go next?

So, the Dodge Challenger is one of the more successful of the retro-brigade. It’s a latter-day re-imagining of one of the all-time most celebrated cars to live in the ponycar / muscle crossover zone – its fame no doubt helped by the pretend exploits of a Mr Kowalski Esq. “Chris, you’re talking about the wrong car, aren’t you, you ludicrous buffoon?”. Well, yeah. I know. But every time I look at the AMC Javelin photographed above, it puts me in mind of the current Challenger.

I also think about car stylists, and inspiration, and toast (don’t write when hungry) and I find myself marvelling at something. I look at the current Challenger, which is a remarkably contemporary looking car despite its retro lineage. And then I look at the AMC Javelin and think “Can that really be 46 years old?”. With the Challenger, the Mustang and the Camaro all inspired by the late ’60s, it’s as if American car styling during every administration from Nixon to Clinton was just a waste of time.

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Pro Tips: Minimum Standards for eBay or Craigslist Pics

The lede image of this article shows a vendors attempt to portray the interior of a car he is selling. A picture can paint a thousand words, as we all know, and you’d think that eBay sellers would know that, too. Yet this guy took his photo on a rainy day and didn’t even bother opening the door. Hopeless.

It stuns me that, in this day of ever more informed, enabled and tech-savvy consumers, people still lack the wherewithal to post useful, informative and representative images of what they’re trying to sell. It’s clearly a lot more difficult than I assumed. OK, not everybody’s a wizard behind the lens, but the photos don’t need to be of David Bailey quality, even a few snaps from a low-tier ‘phone camera will do just fine with the application of just a little common sense.

So, in order to help navigate through this apparent minefield, I’ve taken a look around and found some specific areas that people seem to have trouble with when it comes to eBay photography. Now, I’m no expert but I still think I can share a few hints and tips to help make your eBay listings look a little more professional and a little less like a feeble and futile waste of time and energy. This is a Redusernab Public Service broadcast.

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When you can’t work out if it’s weird or wonderful

Every now and again we’ll chance upon an automotive Frankenstein’s Monster. We’ve seen them often in Craigslist Crapshoots. They’re usually absolutely hideous, the kind of unearthly, hideous freakshow that really needs to be nuked from space. We’re talking about those unhappy concoctions that are neither fish nor fowl. That are often the result of inspiration by way too much alcohol. The kind of thing that leaves you wondering how its creator could possibly look upon it and think to himself “yes, that looks great. That was a good idea.”

The thing you’re looking at is an example of a hotch-potch. But, like eating Cheetos after dunking them in tea, it’s a strange mixture that I rather like the taste of. It’s a blend of two generations of Rover 800 – the fuselage of a post ’92 Mk2 combined with the insipid headlights, flat bonnet and letterbox-slot grille of a Mk1. It was built by a guy called Brad and I’ve known about it since I first saw it on the several years ago. And now it’s appeared on eBay.

And, dangerously, I rather like it.

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The Carchive: The 1982 Lonsdale YD Saloon and Estate

The Carchive now has a new time slot on Redusernab; wherever there’s a spare gap in the schedule and I’ve actually cobbled something together to fill it. I like it this way, anyway; it ensures that Carchive articles have a suitably ad-hoc, thrown together feeling to them, and if I happen to be describing a product from British Leyland that’s all the more appropriate.

Australian car fans rejoice! Today’s relic from the vaults of obscurity concerns that most bizzare of British badge-engineering projects, the short-lived Lonsdale YD series.

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The Antidote to Black Friday Bargain Bonanza Blues!

Apparently, on the day after Thanksgiving it’s customary to wake up with a hangover and a terrible feeling of bloatedness, and then go out and spend all your money on heavily discounted high-ticket items. My phone is effervescent with constant requests to visit X Website and spend ££££, but I find myself in the oddly comfortable situation where I neither need, nor want anything whatsoever.

Nothing that big-brand retailer can offer me, anyway. That’s not to say I’m not a fan of bargains, though, it’s just that I’m far more receptive to things that I happen to chance upon in the flesh than the tedious ordeal of scouring for things online. I always love a good thrift-shop find, though – I came perilously close to investing a whole £4.o0 on a fine period motoring accessory in the shape of the Autook in the picture above. Fortunately, as I excitedly rushed towards the till, desperate for the kindly lady to ‘shut up and take my money!1!‘ I spotted that it was in fact totally the wrong size for my car, though it will fit an Austin Allegro – if only anybody we know drove one of those.

I was disappointed that my charity shop discovery came to nought, for a moment it got my tragically easily-pleased heart a-pumpin. So, as a rally against the barrage of marketing we’re all under right now; here’s a follow-up question to that posted below:- What’s the best automotive-themed thrift-shop find you’ve ever scored?

Thanksgiving Turkey: The Bentley Bentayga

My choice of Thanksgiving Turkey for 2016 is one of the very best cars you can buy today, at any price.

It combines scarcely conceivable power with an inside experience that couldn’t be more comfortable if it gave you head. It’s built to the very highest quality, with materials that delight to the touch and will last for a million years. It drips with the very latest technology, and if you’re not satisfied by gadgets that the combined might of Starfleet and the Rebel Alliance couldn’t have imagined, a word with your friendly Bentley Man will see even more elaborate toys being installed.

It even drives brilliantly. I have it on good authority that the Bentayga goes, stops and steers in a way that something of its not inconsiderable weight and bulk has no right to even consider. Its mammoth W12 makes an incredible noise when provoked, and its four second 0-62mph time is enough to have Newton jumping up and down on his notes, shouting furious expletives. Oh, it can do 187mph, too, a figure that’s too conveniently close to 300km/h for comfort.

It’s quite possibly the most remarkable automotive package in the history of mankind, and I’m glad that a car like this exists.

But not this one. I hate every bone in its hideous, swollen body*

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FIAT 131 Racing: Sportiness with authenticity, not fancy dress.

Before we mention the car, I want talk for a moment about war heroes.

In the little cul de sac in Frinton-On-Sea where I grew up, one of our neighbours was an elderly gent by the name of Vic Whale. Softly spoken and always well turned out, he was a quiet chap who kept himself to himself. By all accounts he was a lovely man, and loved the presence of youth, especially his own children and grandchildren. He actually owned a brown ’81 Fiat 131 Supermirafiori for a while, before replacing it with an ’87 Rover 820i. I liked him very much.

However, it wasn’t until after his passing that I got to know him. During his funeral I learnt more about him than I had ever known when he was alive. I knew about his air-force service in africa and his fighter-pilot past, but I had no idea of his belonging to the Guinea-Pig Club. This was the name given to the support group formed among that group of incredibly brave men who received pioneering plastic surgery to repair wartime injuries. I think you’d have liked him, too.

The most notable thing about him, and my own grandfather, for that matter, is that they seldom advertised their heroic conducts.

Now, why can’t cars be that understated, too?

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A Stab in the Dark: The Touchscreen Cataclysm

An article recently hit those newstands that stock the Sunday Times; “s”

Well, This!

As somebody who never quite made it into a design career, I nevertheless can appreciate the worth of sound ergonomics, both from the perspective of a designer and, of course, as a motorist. Over the years considerable progress has been made in this area, especially by the Germans and the Scandinavians. Ideally you should be able to into a car, any car and be confidently driving in a few minutes, having familiarised yourself with the basic controls, and maybe a few of the less fundamental ones.

In my mind, this should include those key to the enjoyable operation of the car, not just the functional aspects. And as soon as the small step of fitting touchscreens to the centres of dashboards all over the world was taken, ergonomics took a huge leap backwards for all mankind.

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When it all comes flooding back.

On Christmas day 1988 I was given my first ever personal cassette stereo. I was seven years old at the time, and It was a Saisho (a brand invented by Britain’s largest electrical retailer) City Beat, with a three-band graphic equalizer. As soon as I been gifted this piece unprecedented of high tech, my Dad set about making cassettes from me. The very first he made me was of Brothers In Arms, the Dire Straits album. He copied it for me while we were eating our Christmas Dinner.

The next tape he made me was the one in the photo above. On one side it contained Misplaced Childhood by Marillion, on the other a compilation of tracks by Pink Floyd, The Who and Caravan. I know, odd choices for a seven year old, but I was very much my father’s child in that respect. It only occurs to me as I write this, that my Dad would have been the exact same age I am now when he made this tape for me.

Playing it in this particular car stereo has a special significance.

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