Stephen Moore has the truth of it:
The American auto companies, which are so often bailed out by U.S. taxpayers, have made a pronouncement that they intend, in the next few years, to stop making and assembling gas-engine cars. You know, the kind of cars that Henry Ford started rolling off the assembly line 100 years ago at the Ford Motor Company in Detroit.
Henceforth, virtually all American-made cars will be electric vehicles. Perhaps the corporate brass in Michigan’s auto executive offices thinks this makes them good global citizens. They are all in on the fight against global warming. They may be making a political bet that the federal government and more states are going to go the way of California and eventually mandate that every car produced must be battery-operated. But there is also a good deal of virtue-signaling going on here by the folks at Ford and General Motors.
It’s a free country, and if they want to start rolling millions of EVs off the assembly lines, so be it.
But it’s one thing to make cars that appeal to members of the Sierra Club and quite another to produce automobiles that the typical buyer wants. And guess what? So far, most people have turned a decisive thumbs-down on EVs. (Incidentally, I’m personally agnostic on electric vehicles. I’ve driven Teslas, and they are wonderful smooth-driving vehicles. But they have problems, too, such as getting stranded with no juice in the middle of nowhere.)
So far, only about 6% of new cars sold are electric vehicles. And polls show that only about half of Americans prefer an EV over a traditional car. Much larger majorities oppose the government telling us what kind of car we can buy.
No kidding. And his conclusion is right on:
You would think that U.S. automakers would understand a basic red, white and blue reality, which is that Americans have a special and long-standing love affair with their cars. They aren’t going to trade in their Mustangs, Camaros, Cadillacs and trucks for an EV. For many of us, this would be akin to taking away our firstborn.
…
Sorry, this is 2023, not 1923, when Henry Ford said you could have a Model T in any color you wanted, as long as it was black.
This latest foolishness is on a par — except that it could doom their whole company.
Hey… they’re a private company, sort of, so they can make any decisions they want. But:
Incidentally, as this “woke” green energy fad fades into the sunset, as it almost assuredly will, and the American auto companies see their sales crash, they’d better not come begging for yet another taxpayer bailout.
Yup. Not one red fucking cent.
Looks like I’ll have to drive my Tiguan — or a second-hand Toyota equivalent — for the rest of my life. That’s not the worst fate that could befall me.
So our gracious host made a distinction I found rather interesting that I’d like him to expand up on if possible. I recently started working for a travel company and we get some interesting international travel benefits as part of our compensation package so international travel is likely in my future.
What do you define as the difference between being a tourist and being a traveler? More importantly, how does one actually be a traveler rather than a tourist?
I’ve alluded to this often, but perhaps it’s time I gave it the full treatment.
Tourists often travel in groups and only go to the “recommended” places (e.g. the Louvre in Paris, Madame Tussaud’s in London, Sistine Chapel in Rome, and so on).
They will not be adventurous at all, whether exploring off-the-beaten-track places or trying the local cuisine — especially if it’s quite different to what they get at home. (Eating spaghetti or pizza in Naples is pretty much the same as eating it in New York or Des Moines, for example.)
They’ll go to England, visit London and maybe Bath — but in Bath, they’ll visit the Roman baths museum and not eat at the Pump Room, for instance, or try any of the delicious local pies.
British tourists will go to Spain or the Algarve and complain when they can’t find Egg & Chips on the menu. Ditto Americans who will eat at the local Burger King, don’t get me started.
Tourists will always try to convert the local currency to their own before making a purchase, just to make sure they’re not getting ripped off. If you start with the premise that everywhere is more expensive than the U.S. (except in the Third World), you’ll be a lot more relaxed about it.
Lastly, tourists will wear the same clothes overseas as they do at home, rather than trying to blend into the place they’re visiting. Americans are absolutely the worst in this regard.
All tourists — American, German, British, Japanese or African, whatever — are loud and awful, and a good indicator of where not to go is if the place is full of them. A bar full of drunken Brits singing football songs in any country except the U.K. will get me out of there quickly.
Now for the good stuff.
Travelers want to visit foreign places and take in the way of life there, whether the architecture, the customs, the food and drink, how people dress (and will dress as close to the locals as possible), and how the locals live, in general. (When I was in London once, I was asked by some Brit friends whether I’d want to have dinner at some “Texas BBQ” restaurant. Feel free to imagine my response.)
Yes, they will go to the “sights”, but generally out of season (when the locals go), but will shun long lines and queues regardless.
In fact, “out of season” is generally the best time to travel (unless the weather means that everything’s closed, e.g. New England or the French Riviera in January). And bad weather is not necessarily a deterrent, by the way — it was only when I experienced London in January, for example, that I appreciated why the locals flee Britishland for warmer climes.
Travelers can be found in restaurants where they are the only patrons not speaking the local language. And speaking of languages: travelers will make an attempt to speak the local lingo rather than insisting on everyone speaking English, even if just a few sentences learned prior to the trip. And they’ll speak quietly, the same as the locals do, and not bray in loud tones so that everyone can hear their opinions or stories.
Oh, and you’ll never find travelers standing in the street with a phone, guidebook or map in hand, trying to figure out where they are; they’ll step inside a shop or pub first before looking, but most of the time they’ll have figured out where to go before leaving the hotel, gasthaus or b&b.
As for clothing: you’ll want to be mistaken for a local and not a tourist — this as much for safety as good travel etiquette. If you can, take the bare minimum of clothing with you, and buy local stuff on Day 2. (Pro tip: in western Europe, H&M is the place to go for inexpensive clothing — their merchandise is completely different from U.S. H&M — and of course Marks & Spencer in Britishland — Primark for less expensive stuff). Oh, and work out the sizing nomenclature before you go — keep a cheat sheet on hand if necessary. As a rule of thumb: most Euro clothing is sized smaller than their U.S. counterparts, so beware. Generally speaking, I decide on a color palette (navy blue/black or dark brown/dark green) before I go, and then buy accordingly.
Finally: wear good walking shoes, and not sneakers / trainers. The Euros understand this because they walk all over the place. (I’ve found Mephisto Arthis or Davy walking shoes to be the best option — I have a black and brown pair of Arthis — but YMMV.)
I hope this helps, and gives everyone at least a direction in which to go if you want to visit foreign lands and appreciate / enjoy them.
In order: Rome, Vienna, Bath and Edinburgh (eating parrutch):