Car Nut

Tim Allen (the man, not the TV caricature he plays) is one of the people I’d want on my Dinner Guest Bucket List.   Not only is he as funny as hell, he’s also a gearhead and gun guy (in part 1 below, when Tim gets to talking about his GT40, look over the car into his gun room).

Here he is walking us through his car collection, a trip which takes under an hour:  Part 1 and Part 2.  My favorite parts?  He has models of a Spitfire, Me109 and P52 P-51 Mustang hanging from the ceiling.  I just wish he’d taken us on a tour of his gun room.

And for those classic Camaro fans, here’s Jay Leno driving Tim’s 427 COPO.  (Best line:  Leno:  “There’s nothing in this car that doesn’t belong.”  Allen:  “Except maybe us.”)



No, not that BLM nonsense;  I’m talking about cars that in my opinion were the last of the “hot” saloon cars that were the mainstay of, and dominated European racing of that ilk in the late 1980s — a time when car designers weren’t strapped over a desk and raped by environmental- and safety constraints, in that oh-so wonderful era before the horrible wind-tunnel became the main basis for cars’ shapes.  Here are some examples of what I’m talking about:

1987 Audi Quattro Sport

I know:  by today’s standards the Audi (and indeed most of the cars that follow) seems horribly angular.  But regardless, they were absolute rockets despite power outputs that are dwarfed by today’s models.  The reason that these cars were so quick, and so much fun to drive is that they weren’t burdened with all the safety bullshit that bedevils today’s cars, and turn then into deadweight that needs all that horsepower just to get them moving.

1988 Lancia HF Stradale

With all the (justifiable) reservations about Lancia’s reliability, the Stradale was a monster:  a perennial race- and rally winner, even when pitted against competitors fielded by giant car companies like Audi or Ford.  And speaking of the latter:

1989 Ford Sierra RS Cosworth

Like the U.S.-designed Taurus, the Sierra was the first of Ford’s “gumdrop”-shaped cars, but the Cosworth-powered RS stuck more to the older, sharp-edged shape of the time.  So powerful was its engine that the redoubtable Borg-Warner company had to design and build a special new line of gearboxes to handle the demands of the engine (which generated a modest 204hp in the street car, but 300hp in the race version).

And finally, there’s probably the best of the bunch:

1986 BMW E30 M3 EVO II

The little E30 pocket rocket had the longest production time (six years) of all these cars, with justification:  it would stand up pretty well against almost every similar car of today’s era.

While the Lancia is my romantic favorite (because Lancia), the Beemer would be my first choice if I was going to do some serious driving.

Discuss amongst yourselves, in Comments.

Afterthought:  Reader Uncle Kenny reminds me of the raven-haired and redoubtable Michèle Mouton of that era:

Not Quite

Over in Britishland, a bunch of cops raided a church during a Good Friday Mass and told everyone they had to leave because they were offending the Gods Of State by breaking some petty Covid-related restrictions.  (I am simply astonished that in a religion which glorifies martyrdom, not one parishioner let themselves be arrested rather than be hounded out of a church on the holiest day of the Christian calendar.  Of course, being meek British Christians, they left the church without fuss, instead of making the cops leave with their tails between their legs, like that Polish priest did in Canada.)

Which led Peter Hitchens to say this:

“When police start raiding our churches, you know the revolution has begun.”

Au contraire, mon cher Pierre:  that is not the start of the revolution;  that is merely the evidence of creeping governmental thuggish totalitarianism.  (And saying “sorry” after the fact doesn’t excuse or exonerate them, the bastards.)

The revolution will begin when the Stasi are chased out by a storm of invective, or bullets.

I am so angered by this that I can barely write about it.  And I’m not even a Christian.

Small wonder there’s an outbreak of “Kill The Bill” protests and riots in Britain.  (“The Old Bill” is a nickname for cops Over There;  I prefer “The Filth”, myself.)

Monday Funnies

Oy vey, it’s Monday:

Just for the hell of it, I proclaim today Jew Day on this here website.  (Don’t panic;  everything has been blessed by the Deth Bin*.)

(My buddy Lev, who is an actual rabbi, tells me that this would be funny were it not so true.)  And in that same vein:

And just for the hell of it:

And one of my personal favorites:

Now get out there and make some money.  Next week:  Italians.

*I know;  shuddup.