The goofy cars we used to want to buy

Dad thought the AMC Pacer was the Car of the Future.

 My Dad and I never talked much about cars. We weren't on the same automotive wavelength — until we were. 

A family man and a sales representative who racked up 50,000 miles a year, he wanted a fast Interstate cruiser that rode smoothly. He needed plenty of room for the family, and a big trunk for sales brochures. 

I wanted a MG. Two seats would be plenty for me, and I longed for responsive steering and a manual gearbox. And, oh-my-gosh, real wire wheels! 

I got my MG, and quickly learned how to double-clutch, and how to judge my speed without having any working instruments on the dashboard. 

In retirement, my Dad did consider down-sizing. In a rare moment of communication he told me that an American Motors Pacer really appealed to him. He considered it "the Car of the Future." 

He was wrong about that.

As the Pacer became a universal joking matter he gave up on it and purchased a different car: a Chevrolet Citation. This was one of the so-called "X cars," whose many faults would lay waste to General Motors' reputation.

The Vega: Its motor melted down, its body dissolved into rust.

But by then I had beaten him to the punch in purchasing a maligned GM product. Married, and in need of cars that ran without being push started, I had given up on MGs and purchased Chevrolet Vegas. Not one, but two in a row.

The Vega was a peculiar car, with its self-destructing aluminum block motor racing against its quick-rusting steel bodywork to see which would send it to the junkyard first.

Dad and I didn't learn our lesson right away. Dad fell for the hype that the real Car of the Future would be GM's Saturn.

His loaded Saturn didn't need to be driven to wear out; it fell apart in the driveway. You'll recall that the Saturn's bodywork was plastic. The outside of the car didn't rust. Instead, the interior of the car dried up and cracked into powder from exposure to the sun.

The 1991 Chevrolet Impala/Caprice looked good to me.

Meanwhile, I lusted for one of the ugliest GM cars ever: the 1991 Chevrolet Impala. Its bulbous dirigible body looked to me like the Car of the Future.

I couldn't afford one new, and none were available used yet, so I got a GM Credit Card, which earned points toward the purchase of the General's cars.

Of course I realized that, while my purchases were racking up GM points toward my dreamed-of Impala, GM was raising the price of the Impala to wipe out my incremental gains. There was just something about having the GM card, and the goal it represented, that appealed to me.

Then, one month, we were charged a late fee on the GM card, and my wife angrily cancelled it — wiping out my points in the process. By then I was — almost — grateful, as the blimp-like Impala had turned out to have no future appeal to anyone.

Eventually both my Dad and I would give up buying cars we actually wanted and just buy Japanese cars. This was a sort of spiritual surrender, akin to finally admitting that baldness is real.

No man ever said "Oh Boy! I'm going bald."

Few men have ever said "Finally, I own a Camry!"

Dad is gone now and, in my old age I no longer worry about what might be the Car of the Future. No need.

For entertainment, though, I enjoy looking back at the Cars of the Past. My friend Doug almost daily shares with me Craigslist ads he finds for emotionally appealing cars he knows neither of us will ever buy.

He came up with two today.

The first was a Ford Thunderbird, a "retro-bird" of the early 2000s, designed to appeal to guys our age. The price was low and the photographs showed it in the seller's man-cave garage.

Only two-seats and a tiny trunk, but it takes me back.

Doug wrote:

"The Pabst sign and Viet vet (license) plate are clues in this case. A younger and more intrepid buyer could take advantage (of the low price) but younger people apparently have no interest in these cars. That's the problem with nostalgia: you have to remember what it was about in the first place."

The second find was a heartbreakingly beautiful Jaguar S-Type, at an unbelievably low price. Another retro car, the Jaguar S-Type was evocative of the time-honored Jaguar Mark II.

Doug wrote:

"You could buy this Jag with change from lunch at McDonald's and throw it away along with the wrapper from your burger. Really, there'd be no need to worry about fixing anything. The only question is: Would you even get a week's amusement out of it?"

There was an extra note of nostalgia to that Jaguar: the dashboard odometer was broken, the seller admitted.

Of course it was. A younger me would have smiled in recognition.

Royal Enfield's growth fuels social media backlash

User reviews on Royal Enfield's own website are often from dissatisfied customers.
Their unanswered criticisms are seen by potential buyers seeking product information.

Royal Enfield boss Siddhartha Lal essentially steals the show in this radio interview on the BBC's Business Daily program.

The interviewer is BBC's Ed Butler, and he wants to talk about trends in advertising: the power of social media, businesses that harvest data about consumers by monitoring their on-line activity, and consumer trust in brands.

Brands such as Royal Enfield.

It's a particularly valid subject for Royal Enfield, as the "user reviews" on its own website, and social media networks in general, are clogged with often unanswered complaints against the company, its products and its dealers.

These complaints seem to fall into two categories: Royal Enfield owners in India rue the day they bought a Royal Enfield and would-be owners in the United States complain they can't get hold of a Royal Enfield fast enough!

As my departed father used to say about the human race: "Never happy, never satisfied."

Butler asks Lal about an incident in India where a cricket star hired to endorse a competitor was discovered to be riding a Royal Enfield. Celebrity endorsements, an old-fashioned — and obviously dishonest — form of advertising does not appeal to Royal Enfield, Lal responds.

"We want to do things authentically, we want to do things real," he says.

He goes on to tell once again the story of how Royal Enfield, then "near bankruptcy," decided in 2000 to stick with the sort of middle weight motorcycles for which it already was renown in India. Respect for its own history, going back to 19th Century Britain, would attract consumers.

(He didn't say so, but this is the concept behind Royal Enfield's on-going introduction of models that reference its past, such as the recent debut of the limited-edition Pegasus model.)

It worked because the massive market in India, growing in wealth, saw value in moving up to a brand that offered genuine prestige — not just the say-so of a cricket star.

It's always a compelling story — Lal has told it many times. Butler was bowled over, as interviewers usually are, by the enormous growth in Royal Enfield production in India. Production is 16 times what it was in 2010.

Lal usually goes on to describe his vision of expanding Royal Enfield's global reach by offering honest, middle weight motorcycles that aren't too big or too small — again, the sorts of motorcycles it already makes.

But Butler leaves Lal and Royal Enfield there and goes on to interview others about how legacy brands are failing to reach customers with old-fashioned advertising and might do better with individually targeted messages on social media.

Left unexamined was how can Royal Enfield can effectively expand into regions — such as the United States — where its brand is little known and its long history poorly remembered.

Would different social media strategies help?

I am no expert, but wouldn't it make sense to drop the "user reviews" from the website? Existing owners in India deserve to be effectively served when they contact their dealers. There is no sense upsetting them at the dealer and then giving them a direct channel to turn-off potential new customers who come to the website for product information.

Then talk to potential customers directly on social media channels not specifically formatted to invite attack.

Is this the worst motorcycle ad ever? Yes!

This JAWA motorcycle ad is the absolute worst.

In the computer era, no one can be certain that the photos in motorcycle ads are real.

It was easier to detect the phonies back in the days when photographers had to use film to fake pictures.

Sometimes, the limitations on what could be done in the darkroom gave rise to a silliness all its own.

An example is this period ad for JAWA scramblers, spotted for sale recently on CraigsList in Texas.

It's just awful.

The best they could do was to paste together mirror images of the front of the motorcycle to support a meaningless "Two-Faced?" headline.

But the ad copy is even worse.

In it, the ad explains that they are also including the mirror images of the back of the motorcycle "at the insistence of our art director. Being the left-over portions of the photo above, he felt this model offered tops in traction, a genuine straight-through exhaust and something unique in dual seating arrangements."

Of the hacked up images, the ad comments "don't ask us which of the four models it is, as they all look alike to us and even we get confused sometimes...

"Why not see your JAWA Dealer and ask him to show you the model that doesn't care if it's coming or going."

I have a better question: Why not just shop for a motorcycle that takes itself seriously — perhaps a model that anyone can tell is unique in its own right? Anything but a JAWA, apparently.

To my mind, the ad is abysmal. But there is a more important question:

Did it sell motorcycles? What do you think? Leave a comment.

Did '60s fashions doom the British motorcycle industry?

Facing challenges, the British motorcycle industry decided to go girlie in its advertising of the 1960s and '70s.

Out-dated machinery would look swinging when draped with young women — at least that was the hope.

The Norton girls are best known. But even Royal Enfield tried out the appeal of a leggy girl lounging on an Interceptor in 1969.

It didn't work, obviously, or Triumph and Royal Enfield wouldn't be the last ones standing.

Most observers would credit the conscientious consumers of the day for looking past the bikinis to matters such as reliability and value for money. Hello, Honda!

Not so fast.

The scantily clad young woman in a period BSA advertisement, spotted for sale on CraigsList  in Texas recently, gives me pause.

The fact that she is wielding a crowbar might be off-putting at any point in history. But, then, her jacket is open to the waist, suggesting some willingness to join you if you will only buy that BSA.

Trouble is, in the fashion of the time, the open jacket manages to be risque without being in the least bit alluring. This raises a question in my mind:

Would the British motorcycle industry have survived if its final, desperate advertising push had not directly coincided with the popularity of that trend setting model, Twiggy?

In other words, if female assets are generally considered marketing essentials, is a prevailing fashion contrary to commonly accepted female attributes detrimental to sales success?

For the record, Twiggy's childhood nickname was "Twigs." As a model, she measured a streamlined 31-23-32.

She was mini but she had maxi effect on marketing. The Daily Express called her "the face of 1966" and she was an international sensation by 1967. She retired from modeling in 1970 but her career in film and music began, extending her influence over fashion.

Meanwhile, thank you very much, the British motorcycle industry had to scrape along with advertising layouts featuring models apparently plucked from the world's least fascinating roller derby team.

I feel my theory needs further examination by scholars.

Preferably over beers.

Vintage Royal Enfield ads and artwork sold style

Typical Royal Enfield artwork of 1936.

Advertising and catalog artwork for Royal Enfield motorcycles in the era before and after World War II was surprisingly consistent. If you page through the Vintage Motorcycle Art Archive on Flickr you'll find that Royal Enfield typically used art portraying handsome, well dressed riders enjoying their motorcycles.

Suits and ties (not leathers) for the gentlemen. Dresses for the ladies. The artwork was so standardized that the human and motorcycle models used became almost recognizable from ad to ad.

"Made Like a Gun" (often labelled as a trade mark) was the standard slogan, although this occasionally gave way to "By Miles the Best" and other phrases.

Ad copy, if there was any, would typically praise the benefits of motorcycle ridership (as epitomized by the Royal Enfield).

It's hard to knock this consistent technique when you contrast the apparent floundering about taking place at, for instance, Ariel. This British motorcycle manufacturer had attractive and interesting products on offer, but its advertisements seemed to ignore these.

Ariel used artwork of women to attract notice and these ladies were not always conservatively dressed.

One stunner of an Ariel ad featured a woman in a beret and scarf, but little else — and no motorcycle at all!

She's lovely; what does the motorcycle look like?

Could it be that Ariel considered its actual products best left out of sight?

The most distinctive Ariel design of the period was the Square Four, with four pistons clustered in a single, vertical motor. Regardless of how well it worked in practice, it seemed obvious to some shoppers that an air-cooled motor with no air flow to its center would not last long.

Nevertheless, the Square Four, in various sizes, was produced from 1931 to 1959. If it scared you, well, Ariel had singles and twins for sale as well, and these had good reputations.

One glorious period came during World War II itself, when the civilian market for motorcycles ended completely. The War Department had rated Ariel's products only fair but, with the enormous material losses at Dunkirk, Ariel W/NG 350 single-cylinder motorcycles were ordered by the thousands for the army, air force and navy.

It was during the war that my favorite Ariel advertisement appeared. For once, the ad department was right on the mark. The ad showed glass being removed from an Ariel showroom as a young man prepares to depart (for war?) on his Ariel.

Ariel redeems itself with a courageous ad from 1941.

The copy: "When once more the glass of fashion returns to our windows, the mould of form so long associated with the ARIEL will again take price of place on the roads of a victorious country. In the meantime, we are doing all we can to speed that happy day."

This was in 1941, still a long way away from "that happy day." The steadfast confidence, courage and patriotism conveyed by the ad is unmistakable. If it did not sell motorcycles (all available were going to the military anyway) it must have increased good will.

Royal Enfield blasts across desert in cell phone ad

This Royal Enfield is blasting across a desert to sell cell phone service.

A raging Royal Enfield Bullet appears for just a flash in this evocative commercial for a South African cell phone service.

But it's worth watching because, by the time the Royal Enfield appears, you're so pumped up on poetry and inspiring images that the motorcycle is the perfect touch. The motorcycle appears to be a late model ES with cafe racer modifications.

Thanks to @royalenfieldsa on Twitter for pointing it out.

"This ad aims to showcase the way in which all our lives are richer because of the way we can now connect, or unplug, anywhere, any time, and share those moments with whoever we choose," writes Ogilvy South Africa, who posted the ad on Vimeo.

The ad was produced by Picture Tree. Director of photography was Werner Maritz. Take a look:

Mild mannered Royal Enfield is also a super hero

What's a nice Royal Enfield like you doing in a place like this?

I consider it rewarding to ride my Royal Enfield in sunny (and flat) Florida. People ask me about it all the time.

Elsewhere, motorcyclists consider it amusing to ride their Royal Enfields to the top of the world. No one there is surprised they choose to make the climb on a Royal Enfield.

The irony is no more apparent than in a promotional video for a new GoPro helmet cam. In it, surfers, skydivers, skiers and rock climbers compete to capture exciting images with the GoPro.

"Be a hero," the video urges.

But when it comes to motorcycles charging across the landscape, the example in the video is a pastel green Royal Enfield, wading rivers and conquering mountain roads to reach the summit. The rider in this case is world traveler Alex Chacon, who tells how the video was made in his blog Expedition South.

Reader David Blankenhorn pointed me to the video, calling it "another surprising Enfield sighting."

It is surprising, in part because it happens so confoundedly often.

At the launch of the Royal Enfield Continental GT in England I asked a Royal Enfield executive about the number of Royal Enfields that turn up prominently in commercials and Bollywood films. He told me it is company policy not to pay for placement. The company will supply film makers with motorcycles and help, but no money.

It's the casting directors' call. When choosing an adventure motorcycle, they choose Royal Enfield.

What is at work here is that, while Royal Enfield is hardly known in my world, it is well known on the road to the Himalayas.

Royal Enfield stars in Old Spice deodorant ad

Royal Enfield in outlandish video for Old Spice.

A Royal Enfield motorcycle makes a brief appearance in an Old Spice deodorant commercial.

It's extremely goofy and doesn't do much to present the motorcycle as attractive. I could do without the bear.

Is it possible that the ad is actually aimed at women on the theory that Old Spice is more commonly purchased by them as a gift item for husbands and boyfriends?

...and that it somehow makes them attractive instead of the pillowly blobs we are?

Thank you to the A Time to Ride blog for spotting this!

Royal Enfields link adventure to whisky in ad

Three Royal Enfield motorcycles add flavor of adventure to whisky ad.

Royal Enfield motorcycles aren't the subject of a clever video whisky ad by South African distiller Three Ships. But they might as well have been!

The advertisement associates a trip through exotic locales by three Scots on Royal Enfields. They do it, the ad says, to challenge their pioneering spirits — as in their willingness to try a Scotch whisky distilled far from Scotland.

The ad works beautifully and it works just as well for the three Royal Enfields as it does for Three Ships.

Give the video a look.

Royal Enfield: 'Untainted by the world of make-it-better'

My 1999 Royal Enfield Bullet. Untainted?

If there's a contest for a jingle that best captures the spirit of Royal Enfield motorcycles, the prize might go to Sarah, parts manager at MC Supply in Hastings, Mich.

"Own a piece of history without all the wear of time" was her pitch in MC Supply's ad for a Royal Enfield on eBay.

It inspired me to write an item agreeing with the truth behind that statement. No sooner did it appear than she crafted another slogan, for a new ad:

"It has not been tainted by the world of make-it-better."

I know, you could interpret this to mean that Royal Enfield motorcycles are no better made than they ever were. Very funny. But that is not how I read it.

Royal Enfield motorcycles may be better than ever, but they are not tainted by the improvements. The experience of riding one is much the way it was in the old days. That's what I was looking for when I bought mine. Sarah found a great way to express it.

"I was sitting at my computer and wondering how to make Enfields sound cool," Sarah explained when I wrote to congratulate her. "I had never thought about copy writing anything (guess that is my little small town living talkin')."

Mission accomplished.

Royal Enfield offered something for all

Royal Enfield once advertised itself as "The World's Most Complete Line of Motorcycles."

That may seem a bit odd, since, today, Royal Enfield builds a boutique line of retro-classic British style roadsters, all with single cylinders and 500cc displacement.

This advertisement, spotted on the UKGSER.com forum, may seem to fall a bit short of a "complete line," since it plugs only the Royal Enfield Models G and J, and the 125cc Model R.E two-stroke. Nevertheless, it asserts, "there's a Royal Enfield for every budget and means."

"Now Royal Enfield motorcycles are traveling the roads of America — the manufacturer's answer to a wide-spread, popular demand from thousands of you who were impressed by the efficiency and flexibility of Royal Enfields overseas."

The ad appears to be from the late 1940s. That reference to "overseas" could only refer to the little excursion many Americans took through Europe, courtesy of the United States government, in 1941-45. Times were different; imagine using wartime experience in ad copy today?

The ad leaves much unsaid. It appears at a time when Royal Enfield knows that it is about to introduce the new Bullet, with its stunning innovation: a working rear suspension. The future holds powerful twin-cylinder motorcycles and advanced unit-construction 250cc motorcycles.

There will be an alliance with Indian that will spotlight big machines and handy off-road products. Eventually Royal Enfield will field so many models and variations that confusion sets in. Some models (like the short-lived Hornet) are created seemingly just to use up random collections of parts.

Not content with making the market's biggest vertical twin, the Interceptor, Royal Enfield will go to the trouble to bring out an improved Series II Interceptor. And, then, the lights will go out forever in England.

It is a remarkable history. Remarkably, thanks to India, the tradition lives on. That may owe something to the fact that India kept the Royal Enfield Bullet unchanged, singular and unique long enough to make it an icon.

It is not everything to everyone. Somehow, it seems to mean more to most as a result.

Vintage motorcycle was best part of ad

Royal Enfield motorcycles show up in a variety of advertisements but the motorcycle shown in a famous Camel cigarette ad is probably some other vintage bike. Is that a partly obscured Indian head logo on the tank?

The ad is from about 1982-'84 and was one in a series showing the same curly headed man in adventure settings. Often he was pictured with great vintage transportation: a sailboat, a Jeep, a float plane, or a river raft. He was generally shown lighting up, and the tag line usually was "Where a man belongs."

The ad series is often cited in discussions of marketing cigarettes to men. Camel Man is usually judged to be not up to Marlboro Man standards. Importantly, I think, Camel Man was never shown with a horse. His transportation burned gas, not hay.

I'm not a smoker and I didn't care for the curly headed fellow. He always looked too cheerful and recently bathed to actually be up to his waist in a jungle river pulling a raft by a rope. That wasn't the kind of activity I associate with smoking, anyway.

But I loved the stuff he had, especially that motorcycle. Even if he didn't look cut out for adventure, it certainly did.

Camel Man was replaced by the Joe Camel cartoon, controversial because, as a cartoon, it might have appealed to children. You could not accuse Camel Man of appealing to anyone who didn't at least have a driver's license.

Like Royal Enfield, Schlitz beer is back

Breaking news of importance to all Royal Enfield motorcycle fans in the United States: Schlitz Beer is back and it's no better than it ever was.

Err. Let me rephrase that: Schlitz Beer is back and it's as "good" as it ever was. That doesn't sound quite right either. Let me explain.

About the time Royal Enfield motorcycles were in production in England and available for sale in the U.S., Schlitz Beer was a major brand. The Beer That Made Milwaukee Famous was its slogan. Another was: "When You're Out of Schlitz, You're Out of Beer." Still another: "You Only Go Around Once In Life, You Have to Grab for All the Gusto You Can."

Whether you liked beer or not, you could not live in the U.S. and be unaware of Schlitz advertising, which was fairly clever and everywhere you looked. The ads were especially common on television, where they convinced me, before I was of drinking age, that if I ever did learn to like beer, I would drink Schlitz, if only to support the great advertising campaign.

Here's one ad that featured a motorcycle (unfortunately not a Royal Enfield):



Schlitz fell out favor and quality suffered in the decades of brewery consolidations that wiped out many brands. Schlitz isn't an independent brewer anymore, but its maker recently brought it back to market, promising that quality will be as it was "in the 1960s."

That's progress for you! Certainly, any Royal Enfield motorcycle owner can understand the appeal of a product that markets itself as being the same as you remember. I sampled a six-pack while in Milwaukee recently. Yes, I believe this is the same beer I tasted in 1969.

The Schlitz web site features other television and print ads from its glory days. They are fun to watch, even if you're not drinking.