April Fools!
If you're at all involved with the modern automotive Internet, chances are you've heard about the "26:28 prank" that I (and Alex Roy, and David Maher, and Greg Ledet, and a cast of dozens) pulled off over the past two days. I'd conservatively estimate the impact of the stories at over one million eyeballs so far and tomorrow morning, when our accomplices at Jalopnik drop the last piece of the puzzle, we'll extend that reach even further.
Had it just been a prank --- well, who gives a shit, right? But in this case we've been able to focus some attention on the deplorable state of the "Cannonball industry" as it stands in 2015, with more attention to come. If this whole thing prevents just one innocent person from being killed on the freeway by some bedpan-Bolian-wanna-be on his way to try to beat a hoaxed cross-country time, then it's been more than worth it.
There's something frankly surreal about the list of people who are in some way responsible for this prank. You've got trust-fund millionaires, Wall Street superstars, the most powerful editor in the automotive space ("The conversation in this business," a friend admitted to me a while ago, "for a lot of people, starts with Matt Hardigree") the RayWert himself, the guy who claims the third-fastest "Cannonball" in history, and... yours truly, Jack Baruth, the man who once had "Builder's Square" refuse to grant him an interview for a $5.50/hour job. What can I say? They're lucky to have me.
I've been to the dentist and the doctor this week on a buy-here-pay-here basis and I have some interesting observations to share with you about these experiences in the shadow of the almighty ACA, but for now I'll leave you with this song, which I heard in the CVS while I was waiting for my prescriptions to be filled. Man, it made me so fucking sad, to stand there in the CVS and listen to it. Not sure why, though. I was eight years old when it came out. I don't associate it with any particular woman. Let the record show that I didn't really fall in love with anybody until I was like ten or so.
"You're The Only Woman" is one in a group of essentially similar David-Pack-penned songs from various Ambrosia records, but I think the bridge is what stands out here and what makes it primus inter pares. Pop music just isn't written like this any more.
When the pain of love surrounds you And the world may be unkind I'll put my loving arms around you And take you far from this place and time...
What a wonderful thing to be able to promise.
If you can really mean it.
And if you can really make it stick.
But we all know that most of the time,
for most of us,
in most of our relationships,
it's always April first.