This is me getting back to my roots… no, not that medium brown I’ve been covering up for years. Back in the ’90’s when I lived in San Francisco, I was briefly an automotive reviewer. I reviewed cars on a syndicated radio show and for a local magazine. The radio show had brought me in to consult but couldn’t pay me, so they said if they set me up with my own segment then magically cars would be brought to me every week that I would review. It was cool. A fresh, lovely car arrives; I drive it, and then poof, it’s gone after a week. I had a an old, red Mazda hatchback at the time, so I was thrilled to get into new cars.
When the radio show went belly up (maybe it was my consulting?), I hustled a spot in a magazine to keep the new car smell in my life. I had a thing called the Daph-o-meter: “How many fairly good looking men turned to look at the car, assuming half the stares are for the car.” Thus, a red Honda Del Sol was off the charts; a minivan got a 2. Ah, such different days that I would want a car for sex appeal. Now, it doesn’t even occur to me.
Anyway, I met a PR gal for GM, and right I away I was like, “Hey I use to review cars; let me try one out”. I really wanted to say, “Come on, your company is hanging by a thread. Give a super discount on a new car.” The lease on my husband’s Dodge tank is up in June, so I thought it was well timed.