Hi kids, I’m back. You probably didn’t even know I was gone. You probably thought I had just been lazy and not updated. Not true! I was on the road. I went up to Cleveland for the weekend to visit family and see the car show.

The car show was kinda… meh. Unless you’re in the market for a new car, or can afford to just buy one anytime you like, there isn’t much point. So the most interesting things are the sports cars and the concept cars that are coming out in the future. There is a new Pontiac coming that looks really good.

Some of the cars were given the “car show treatment” where a spokesmodel stands on a turntable with the car and gives a spiel about the car. The most humorous of these was the Scion girl. Scion is a new nameplate for Toyota that they are marketing to the youth demographic. It’s very new, and they don’t have that many models yet. They do have a unique marketing idea. Unfortunately, it was poorly worded for their spokesmodel, oh, excuse me, “Options Specialist” (or whatever title they gave this woman, who I’m sure works at the factory the other 51 weeks each year and only got chosen for this job because of her unique understanding of the design features of the automobiles, not for her good looks and uncommon public speaking ability).

Her speech started off by saying that Scion wants to put you in the type of car you want. Nothing unique there, as I’m sure every dealer there would say that they, too, would like to put together a custom package to meet your every desire. But Scion Girl went on to explain that every car comes standard with all amenities. That’s right. There are no options on any of their 3 models. Hope that’s what you want!

By the end of the speech, you learn that their marketing gimmick is that they sell the cars with everything included, but you can then buy all sorts of accessories separately, as you desire or can afford them, to customize your car. A different steering wheel, new rims, different colored parts… just mix and match. It’s a life-size toy. It’s obviously targeted at “The Fast and the Furious” crowd, which seems like a risky business strategy. Will that fad continue? I wouldn’t bet a company division on it. But it could work if it was marketed right. In which case, Scion Girl, you might want to lead off with that in your speech, instead of revealing it only after you’ve told us about how we have no choices in the car we want.

Friday night I went bowling with my brother at a unique place called Mahall’s 20 Lanes. It’s not like any bowling lane I’ve ever been to. First of all, it’s not a sprawling building in a sea of parking. From the outside, it is a normal city building on a regular city block. On the inside, it is a split level bar/pool hall/bowling alley. It’s creatively named “20 Lanes” because they have 20 bowling lanes, 10 upstairs and 10 downstairs. The pool hall, on a mid level, has about six tables. And all of the equipment is from the fifties. The pool tables? Old Brunswicks with wooden ball racks, and no internal tracks… the balls fall into the pockets and stay there. Even the balls themselves were 50’s colors: pastel pink, turquoise and orange, along with the traditional ball colors. If that alone didn’t convince you of their authenticity, their fading added the final credibility. And the bowling alleys contained no automatic scoring. You had to do it yourself with the pen and pad they provide. That’s right, pen. No cheating. The ball returns were above ground, so you could see your ball rolling back to you. At first I was surprised at the obsolete equipment, but once you bought into it, it was a lot of fun. I am impressed that it all worked, even the little red Brunswick crowns that lit up when you got a strike. I was thankful that we didn’t have to walk down and set up our own pins.

We were there for Rock and Bowl, which included a live rock-a-billy band. The combo (2 guitars, drums and stand-up bass) played Johnny Cash, Little Richard, and just about any other popular song from the 50’s and early 60’s. They made me want a Fender Telecaster and the cute redhead with the pigtails that stepped in to sing the Patsy Cline and Nancy Sinatra.

So that was my weekend. It’s good to be home.