Ford’s Hail Mary

Did you know the pope drives a Ford?

“Da Pope” on a Vatican-based license plate is a balm, even to a low-church Protestant such as I. Let’s hope the pope has better credit than Chicago.

Cars have been top of mind lately . . . it must be all the sun. No time of year makes a stronger case for a convertible — no bugs or mugginess, just possibility.

Last week, I was on the phone with Rob Kaffl, an executive at Ford. The company was announcing an employee-pricing promotion for America 250. In this house, we celebrate Toyotathon, but Rob’s line about Ford having been here for half of our republic’s lifespan was stirring. And having read about dealer markups beyond MSRP post-Covid-19, I was surprised to hear that the pricing for the promo was the same no matter the location.

Another location top of mind has been Iran and the war’s downstream effects. Growing up in the Great Recession, I remember vividly the two-year span when the Suburbans, Navigators, and Xterras disappeared to be replaced by the Prius, the minivan, and the Pontiac Vibe. Gas prices were top of mind, especially for a high-schooler who had inherited his grandpa’s Buick Park Avenue. I’m not sure that boat ever knew the sensation of even a half-full tank.

So I asked Rob about the consumer trends: Are buyers altering their habits due to fuel costs?

No. Record sales months for the Explorer and Expedition.

If American consumer preference is anything to judge by, not many expect the current fuel prices to become entrenched. Something to keep watching.

My friend, John Pearley Huffman of Road & Track, nearly died before I ever met him (he may have opted for purgatory had he known). John’s most recent piece recalls that near-death experience, as well as the many doctors who are nuts about cars.

He writes:

There’s an inferential logic to cardiologists being car guys (gender inclusive). An internal combustion engine is a pump, and so are mammalian hearts. Engines have valves, and so do hearts. Engines run best when they’re well lubricated, generously fed high-quality fuel, and aggressively monitored for wear and leaks. Same with hearts.

“I change valves with the engine still running,” Dr. Mike recently explained to me as to what he means by “minimally invasive” over coffee. “I don’t put the patient on a heart machine. I don’t stop the heart. I work while the heart is still beating.” He doesn’t often have to crack open a chest either, and to my know-nothing soul, that is astonishing.

Driving past the hospital semi-regularly, I’ve often wondered why it is that nurses drive Wranglers and Broncos and doctors drive 911s and GTDs. Income is one consideration, but I suspect it has more to do with nurses’ relationship with vehicles being equal parts utilitarian and fashionable, while doctors favor precision and thrill to and from their rounds. “I didn’t do 16 years of school to drive a crossover,” could well be a bumper sticker on any of the placarded vehicles parked just outside the ER.

Without the scratch for a project of my own, this may be the year we get my cousin’s Mustang Fastback out of the shed and on the road. Here’s hoping (and praying the mice didn’t get to the wiring).