I'm Too Cold to Worry About Global Warming

A Volvo drive to the Arctic Circle and beyond in 2003 was excellent preparation for the temperature in Greenville today.

I have to chuckle at the disciples of the church of global-warming, who, whenever temps drop, rush to point out that such weather events aren't evidence that man-made global warming isn't legitimate. Of course, these are the same crackpots who use every hurricane, wild fire, earthquake, flood, drought, winter with little snow, winter with more snowfall than usual, some rain, no rain, too much rain, and temp extremes as evidence that, not only is man-made global warming real, but it's getting worse.

What next, “spring” is evidence of the planet heating? (Disclosure: This isn't my joke.)

(No doubt more "proof" of global warming: USA Today just reported that 2013 set the record for fewest lightning-strike deaths in the U.S. since records began being kept in 1940.)

Forty years ago some of these same knuckleheads were predicting an impending ice age due to arrive in 50 or 60 years. I guess we still have some time before we can heave a sigh of relief that those predictions weren't accurate.

(As if on cue, here's Time Magazine's no-matter-what-happens-it's-man-made approach.) 

Do I believe the current cold snap disproves global-warming? Nope. It's just uber cold for a few days. Although I'm sure there is a global-warming hysteric somewhere putting forth the argument that somehow this severe cold snap is the result of global warming. See paragraph one.

It was 7-degrees in Greenville, SC when I logged on my computer at 7:30 this morning. Just off the top of my head, I believe that's the coldest temp here since I moved from South Florida seven years ago. It certainly doesn't compete with the sub-zero temps much of the country is dealing with, but it's cold nonetheless.

My cat climbed in my lap when I sat down to begin work at 7:30 a.m., and at 11:45 hasn't stirred. She, as far as I know, has no position on global warming. She's just cold.

Despite “the science being settled,” there is a growing and persuasive body of studies that climate change has much more to do with the sun's sunspot cycles than the carbon dioxide generated by our fleet of SUVs.

I tend to side with that argument. And, unlike the global-warming school of scientists, many of whom derive their income through grants and organizations with a mission to keep the global-warming hysteria at a fever pitch, I am willing to entertain the thought that the science is not settled. 

What global-warming true believers look like.

I find it both ironic and hilarious that the ship carrying a platoon of global-warming scientists heading to Antarctica to prove that its ice shelf is disappearing, became stuck in the ice – along with one of its rescue ships – nearly 100 miles from its destination. Funnier still, while they were stranded in the ice, the British Antarctic Survey (BAS), posted a report that there is more ice on the Arctic shelf than ever. It would seem so.

Woops.

So, as I try to stay warm, I will keep an open mind about the state of our planet's climate. Is it warming or cooling? I don't have a clue. But I do know that it's damn cold today.

A Working Stiff's Perspective on a New Year

As I settle into my post-holiday funk, I am eying 2014 with more trepidation than optimism. Although I've managed to somehow financially hang on since I moved to South Carolina, it has never been with any degree of comfort. I haven't been able to relax or, even momentarily, take my eye off the ball – not once in seven years. 

Still, I am better off than a lot of people in a feeble economy that shows little sign of widespread improvement. Money is cheap; so, people are buying cars and some even springing for new homes, but the jobless remain stubbornly so. The government's latest plan for fixing that: extending unemployment payments....again. As if that's a solution.

I am one of the fortunate ones who owns his home.

If I was trying to support a family, had a kid in college, making a mortgage payment or even had a car payment, I would be S.O.L. Thankfully, none of these apply.

I've entered that no-man's land where I am too old to be employable, and too young and unprepared to retire.

The bottom line is that as a freelance writer, I manage to cover the bills, pay my taxes, put litter in the cat box and even underwrite a run or two to Florida every year, but I haven't saved a penny during the past decade. I don't expect that to change in 2014.

I take a certain amount of pride in having kept my nose above the water line since my unceremonious separation from AMI in 2004, but a bit of luck and some help from friends and family contributed to my survival.

For that I am, and always will be, grateful.

Monday, January 6^th, signals the mental, emotional start of 2014 for me. The holidays over, reality sets in.

My plan: I'll plow forward one day at a time, pounding it out, and somehow make it all work.

So, although I'm not particularly optimistic about 2014 being “better,” I am determined to continue fighting the good fight tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that. It's what I do and have been doing for several years.

What keeps me moving forward is that I know I'll encounter a few laughs with good friends along the way. I guess you can't really ask for much more than that.

Crazy Is as Crazy Does: Sports Is Just a Bunch of Games, Even When Pittsburgh Plays

I'm not one of those guys who gets all revved up about sports. In fact, I find most sports utterly boring at best, and totally worthless at worst. Perhaps I'm just not competitive enough to get it. I have friends whose TV would be tuned to ESPN nonstop if not compelled to leave their easy chair to go to work, engage with family or take a pee. I'd rather watch a good movie – not a particularly productive enterprise either, I admit.

When I do watch a game, the action isn't all that I'm interested in.

College sports are a somewhat different animal than professional ones because there is a certain degree of residual Alma Mater loyalty at play. Living now in South Carolina, I have a whole different perspective on college football.

Holy snikies, people here are bat-shit crazy about college football and their respective teams.

I have friends who are quite normal – well, as normal as people who hang out with me can be – but when it comes to college football, are absolute lunatics. They seem to have an emotional investment in these games that I just don't grasp. It goes well beyond sitting in their living rooms and yelling at the TV during a game – something I've been reported to do when watching the Steelers. A loss of any stripe can drive them into a funk; losing to a perennial rival can make them nearly inconsolable.

I don't have a dog in the college-football fight. I could probably care less, but I don't know how. I am glad I graduated a small, private, Midwest college lacking a national profile. I make myself crazy enough on Sundays over the Steelers; I'd hate to be equally crazed on Saturdays over my college team.

Roll Tide or don't.

Despite my indifference toward college ball, I was somewhat happy to hear that Oklahoma beat Alabama in whatever bowl game they played on Thursday. I don't have a reason for my reaction to Bama's loss, but it made me smile. Does that make me a bad person? There are certainly more serious shortcomings of mine that qualify me for that status. I doubt that finding some small degree of joy in Alabama's loss is even close to topping the list.

At this point you may think this post is about college football and its fans; you would be wrong.

It's about the NFL playoffs and championship, or soon will be.

Although I am an unapologetic Steelers fan, beyond doing a little yelling at the TV on Sundays, I am not emotionally tied to my team's ups and downs. Good thing, too, because this season the “downs” seemed to far outweigh the “ups.” 

Yes, I was disappointed last week when it appeared the Steelers might back-door their way into the playoffs, and didn't. Four things needed to happen for Pittsburgh to sneak into a Wild Card slot. By 4:00 on Sunday, three of them had fallen into place. All that remained was for the Chiefs to beat the Chargers – not a high hurdle under normal circumstances.

The Chiefs lineup on this day, however, wasn't well represented with its starters, many of whom spent much of the game on the sidelines, protecting them from injury. Even at that, the Chargers only squeaked by.

Define "A waste of money:" Paying to send the entire Steelers travel squad to London.

Certainly I was disappointed, but as much by the Steelers lackluster performance early in the season that caused them to lose their first four games as I was by the Chiefs fall to the Chargers. During that four-game losing run, they should have handily beat the Titans (7-9 for the season). Had Pittsburgh only sent its special teams to London to wage battle against the Vikings (6-10 for the season), the Steelers should have won that game. They certainly wouldn't have done any worse.

Losing to the Raiders at home: Are you kidding me!

If the Steelers had stepped up and won either of those two “gimmes,” they would be in the playoffs this year. Moreover, Pittsburgh embarrassed itself at home against the abysmal Raiders (4-12 for the season) after finding its footing, and beating the Jets and Ravens in weeks six and seven. Losing to the Raiders at home was certainly the season's low point.

So, in my thinking, the Steelers had the talent, as well as the opportunity to make the playoffs. They muffed it. I didn't lose sleep over it.

At the start of the season I figured the Steelers would wind up 8-8, and they did. Even at that, they managed to maintain some relevancy into the final week. At least I can hang my hat on that.

I don't typically make predictions, but I will this year.

My best guess: This year's Super Bowl will pit the two No. 1 teams against one another. It will be Seattle versus Denver. And, Denver prevails. I am less confidant about Seattle making it to the Super Bowl than I am Denver. Almost any NFL team can beat another on any given week, but Denver and Seattle, I think, are good enough to survive to the big game. The Carolina Panthers, though, is my "dark horse" pick.

Other than rooting against New England as long as it's in contention, I will take no interest the balance of the season.

My season pretty much ends when Pittsburgh's does.

Getting My Historic on at the Mine Shaft in Madrid, NM

It's been more than 10 years since I was last at the Mine Shaft Tavern in Madrid, New Mexico. (“Madrid” by the way, is pronounced MAH-drid.) It's only a 60-minute-or-so drive from my sister's home in Los Lunas, but we just never seem to make the trek any more.

So, I was pretty stoked when, at our family Sadie's outing on Monday night, my sister put forward the idea of making a pilgrimage to Madrid after Christmas. Immediately one of my nieces and her daughters jumped on board the Madrid express and a plan was hatched.

You have to love a town where the most modern structure is some sort of community bathroom.

 Madrid is the reincarnation of what was a coal mining town called Coal Gulch in the 1830s. It was a “company town” in every sense of the term. The mining company owned every business and house in the little community, including the Mine Shaft Tavern. Even the Mine Shaft is a reincarnation of sorts because the original burned on Christmas Day 1944. It was rebuilt and reopened in 1947. It has been serving alcohol-infused potables ever since.

The Mine Shaft's stage where we would have seen some live music had we stayed longer.

After the mines closed in the mid 1950s, Coal Gulch qualified for ghost-town status for the next two decades. All manner of spooky happenings make the Mine Shaft the most haunted building in town. Although there is another eatery or two in town, Mine Shaft is clearly the main gathering spot for locals and tourists. 

Today the town's main street is lined with old homes that have been transformed into gift shops, art galleries and boutiques.

The bar stretches on forever, but sadly, unpopulated by locals when we were there.

Its 40-foot bar is the longest in the state, boasts the tavern's PR. A stage for live-music occupies one end of the main room, flanked by the Men's and Women's restrooms that appear to not have been upgraded since the joint was rebuilt in 1947. But that's part of the charm, I guess.

Attached and accessed by a separate entrance is a museum and theater, sporadically hosting stage productions throughout the year.

Featuring several local microbrews, the bar offers a full range of spirits. The menu is typical of bars, but several steps up the quality ladder of most. The onion rings, burgers and fries are worthy of the 50-mile slog from my sister's. 

Mmmmm....Santa Fe Brewery State Pen Porter.

I washed down my buffalo burger and fries with a Santa Fe Brewery State Pen Porter and a Marble Brewery Oatmeal Stout. I had never had the Porter before; it was wonderful!

The rest of the family kept the margarita barista busy. This is another New Mexico joint where you don't have to look over the bartender's shoulder to ensure a superior margarita. Mine Shaft's house margaritas are outrageously delicious.

Not including the two-hour round-trip drive, lunch filled roughly three hours of our day. The only way I could have been happier is if it had occupied another hour or two. I really like this place. I was a little disappointed that more locals weren't populating the bar. Historically, when we've visited, the joint has been jam packed. The locals add a lot of color. It's always looked like the bar in the TV series “Northern Exposure.” Fashion apparently isn't a major concern among the local populace. Nor is dental care.

Otherwise, the excursion was everything I'd hoped for.

Enough Wheel Time with the WRX Wasn't an Issue as We Motored from Napa to the Coast

Uncharacteristically moderate temperatures and lots of sunshine have made my week with a Boxster S a winner.

In the future, I will think of this December as the “month of the performance car.” It began with the Chevrolet performance-car drive in Palm Springs, Calif. where I drove the all-new Chevrolet SS sedan, the redesigned Corvette Convertible and the Camaro SS Convertible. Currently one of the cars in my driveway is a Porsche Boxster S Cabrio. And just a few days ago, I drove the redesigned 2015 Subaru WRX around Northern California.

There are times when it's actually good to be me.

If you are going to visit a place, Napa is as good as almost any. The only issue worth bellyaching about is the slog from anywhere in Napa to the San Francisco Airport. It's 60 to 90 minutes in the best of conditions. Time it wrong, and it can surge into a couple of hours or more. This travel time is compounded for those of us going to the east coast on the return by the T.F.E. departure time of our flights. To arrive home at any sort of sensible hour means an oh-dark-thirty flight and a 3:30 or 4:00 a.m. shuttle to the airport.

This pain in the keister, though, is a small price to pay to one: spend some time in Napa; and two: drive the WRX. But, as an auto journalist a certain amount of whining is expected; so, I can now check off that box.

The one half-way decent shot of the exterior of The Caneros Inn that I managed to get as we mounted up for our ride and drive.

 You will find this post woefully lacking in photos of The Caneros Inn, where Subaru put us up. That's because most of my time there was in the dark. I arrived after dark on the first day. I was so late, as a matter of fact, that rather than go to my room when I checked in, I immediately joined the rest of the group at dinner.

The drive Subaru mapped out for us the second day was one of the longest I've been on in years. My driving buddy and I didn't get back to the hotel until after dark. And, we weren't even close to being the last in. More stragglers dragged in after us. By my comments regarding shuttles to the airport for east coast flights, you should be able to surmise that day three – our head-for-home day – offered no opportunities for resort photos either.

So, other than an hour or so around breakfast on day two, I had no light with which to work. I squandered that light believing that I could shoot my usual battery of lodging photos after the day's driving. Silly me.

My room: Behind those closed doors lies the heated tile floor.

I do like The Caneros Inn, though. My room was spacious, my bed was comfy and it was quiet. It was mighty chilly while we were there. The thermometer on the thermostat in my room never rose above 64 degrees, regardless of how high I turned up the heat. This isn't a whole lot lower than the 67 degrees I keep my thermostat at home turned to. On a positive note: It did afford me the opportunity to appreciate the bathroom's heated tile floor. I had heard of such things, but never walked around on one. I was amazed at what a difference it makes. The bottoms of your feet feeling toasty while the rest of you is covered in goose bumps is quite the sensation.

Dinner that first night was terrific. The resort is owned by the Plumpjack Winery. Among the wines we were served with the different dinner courses were Plumpjack Reserve Chardonnay, Napa Valley 2012, and Plumpjack Syrah, Napa Valley 2011. Both were outstanding.

The next day we had a chance to challenge the WRX with some outrageously twisty roads. I have clocked a lot of miles on California roads, but one 25-mile-or-so segment on this route was one of the twistiest I've ever driven. The WRX really hunkered down and handled it.

Although WRX is a member of the Impreza family, it shares very little in the way of exterior parts or interior surfaces with the more tame Impreza. 

Yes, I know; this looks more like the coast than Napa, but you got the part about this being a longer-than-usual ride and drive, right?

Here's the 4-1-1 on the next WRX that's due in showrooms in the spring: The turbocharged 2-liter four-cylinder Boxer engine is new, generating 268 horsepower and 258 lb.-ft. of torque. Subaru offers either a six-speed manual tranny or a new continuously variable transmission (CVT) to hustle engine output to all four wheels. A stiffer chassis and new Active Torque Vectoring greatly enhance handling, allowing for higher speeds in the corners. Bigger front brakes help reel in this kick-ass sedan.

Subaru says WRX can make the sprint from a standstill to 60 mph in 5.4 seconds with the manual tranny and in 5.9 seconds with the CVT.

Outside, most of the sheetmetal is all-new, as are the head and tail lights. Subaru increased the rake of the windshield, pulling the A-pillars forward almost eight inches for better visibility.

Inside, rear-seat legroom is up by nearly two inches; while the trunk went from just over 11 cu.ft. to 12 cu.ft. The flat-bottomed steering wheel tilts and telescopes. For the first time Harmon Kardon supplies the audio upgrade, which has nine speakers and a navigation unit.

We drove both transmissions. As you might expect, the manual was more engaging. The WRX's CVT, however, is certainly at the head of the class for this type tranny. Subaru has engineered in gear-like steps in the CVT, which uses steering wheel-mounted paddles when opting for manual control. Both transmissions are a blast to drive!

The Napa Smith Brewery had the tasters all lined up and ready to go for us.

For dinner that night, Subaru transported us to the Napa Smith Brewery, where we were treated to a tasting of all of its brews. Although there were a few I liked, I was immediately drawn to the Bonfire Imperial Porter. Jumping from the little tasters to a pint in about 60 seconds. A seasonal, it is a wonderful blend of coffee, chocolate and caramel flavors. Good stuff!

Enough screwing around with the little tasters; just give me a pint of the Bonfire Imperial Porter!

Rather than taking me home, my flights the next day deposited me in South Florida for a long-anticipated, five-day visit. It made the early-morning trek to San Francisco Airport worth it.

Another South Florida Excursion for the Record Books.

I'm freshly returned from a five-day South Florida extravaganza that included just about everything I needed it to, if not wanted it to. 

I had been in Napa Valley driving the redesigned 2014 Subaru WRX.

 It was a stopping point on my way back to Atlanta from Napa Valley and the San Francisco Airport. I'm not wild about the four-hour-plus flights required to ferry the distance between Atl and SFO, but there's no better choice really. At least on Delta there isn't.

Even though I no longer have sufficient clout to have Delta move me from steerage into First Class with any regularity, I can usually position myself in one of Delta's Economy Comfort seats where I am typically surrounded by Diamond and other Platinum members of Delta's less-than-elite Sky Miles Club bellyaching with one another about rarely receiving an upgrade. “Economy Comfort” is the new “First Class” for any Sky Miles member who flies less than 150,000 miles a year. Damn Northwest!

When one is 28 on an upgrade list with 67 people and there are only four remaining First Class seats, odds aren't good that an upgrade is coming his way. Delta boards by zone with those of us Gold, Platinum and Diamond members who didn't get upgraded, being called as a group right behind First Class. This has turned into a cattle call that often involves 30- to 40-percent of the plane. When everyone is special, no one is.

This is one fine-looking sedan.

My flight from San Francisco to Atlanta, however, was fine, as was the connecting flight to West Palm Beach. Because of the flight's length and the three-hour time difference, I didn't set foot in Florida until about 5 p.m. Then it was a 20 mile slog south to Delray Beach. Chevy was kind enough to have a new Impala waiting for me at PBI. It's a delightful sedan that is as drivable as it is great looking. This is the second time I've spent several days in one and I continue to be amazed at the number of people who want to stop me to talk about it. I am at a loss as to why it wasn't on the list of nominees for North American Car of the Year. It certainly should have been.

Thursday morning I had plans to see an former par amour, who I had been out of touch with for about seven years. We breakfasted at the Green Owl, a longtime morning spot favored by Delray Beach locals. We followed the food with a leisurely walk to the beach. 

Mmmmm...Fah's Wonton soup!

I don't want anyone reading this to think that I ate and drank my way through my five days in sunny South Florida, but I got back to the house just in time for my buddy Amy and I hit my favorite Thai place, Boca Raton's Fah, for lunch. Loaded with carbs, we scooted up to Boynton Beach for a couple of craft beers at Due South Brewery. We wound up the evening at the Funky Buddha Lounge and Brewery back in Boca. I do like craft beers!

Enjoying a Carmel Creme Ale at Due South.

Friday a bunch of friends headed to Outback for lunch. I guess there's nothing like a hangover to bring out the lust for red meat. I'm more of a Chinese-food sort of guy after a night of over-consumption, but mine wasn't the hangover being addressed. 

Friday night's party was a blast. I left my party hat in SC, but still managed to have a good time.

Ostensibly I went to FL for two birthday parties; the first of which was Friday night. This is actually a combo birthday/holiday party in its fifth year. I had missed three out of the previous four. This is a creative bunch when it comes to refreshing-adult beverages. I introduced everyone – well, everyone with judgment sufficiently impaired enough to say, yes – to cinnamon tequila. A wonderfully spirited holiday shooter. 

The night was Dark and Stormy....

My buddy Tim dispensed Dark and Stormys concocted with Gosslings 151 Rum. I had no clue there was a Goslings 151 Rum. Learning new things is good.

The Funkabilly Playboys.

As the party was winding down, a couple of us headed to Boca Raton's Duck to hear a set from the Funkabilly Playboys. It was well worth the trip. They rocked the joint.

I was left to my own devices during the day on Saturday. That's what happens when you stay at someone's house with children who participate in organized sports. I mostly lounged around until I linked up with friends at the Village Tavern in Boynton Beach late in the afternoon.

Sunday I devoted to introspection....and drinking beers at the homes of a couple of buddies where we watched the Miami Dolphins kick around the despicable New England Patriots. The week before I cursed the Dolphins, but I joined most of the country in cheering them on in last Sunday's game.

That evening was the second birthday celebration I traveled to FL to attend. Being a school night, it was somewhat more laid back than Friday night's affair. That was fine with me, I had to get up Monday morning, pack and be at the airport for an 11 a.m. flight. I also wanted to catch the Steelers game, in which they wound up pounding the Bengals.

We did get back in time to wander next door and play a few hands of “Cards Against Humanity.” This is an adult card game designed mostly to make you laugh. I won't go into the graphic details here, but it's a riot. It's not for the squeamish or the easily offended. Check your political correctness at the door. But it's about as much fun as up to six people can have for 25 bucks.

Hitting the Trifecta: My First Drive of Chevrolet's "Big Three" Performance Cars

Despite including Chevy products in many of the stories I do for my dot-com financial clients, I am not invited to the bulk of the media programs it throws. Consequently, I was doubly stoked when I received the nod to attend its recent performance-car-driving event in Palm Springs, Calif. 

It was a first opportunity for me to get behind the wheel of the all-new Chevrolet SS sedan, as well as the 2014 Corvette Stingray and Camaro SS convertibles.

I made the two-and-a-half-hour slog to Atlanta to catch an 8:15 a.m. flight. To save you the time of doing the math, that meant pulling away from my house in Greenville, SC at 3:45 a.m. Normally I go out and raise a little cane on Tuesday evenings. In this instance, however, reason prevailed and I stayed home, hitting the sack around 9:30. I could wax on and on about age, wisdom and discretion, but that would be just so much claptrap. I basically stayed in to save a little money in anticipation of the wallet-emptying blowout my upcoming South Florida trip will be.

Delta upgraded me to First Class for the nearly four-hour flight to Salt Lake City. I knew I would be driving that afternoon when I landed; so, I reluctantly took a pass on the bar cart, amusing myself instead by watching a couple of free movies. Yes, I could have done some work, but couldn't muster sufficient motivation.

I've spent a lot of time in the E concourse of the Salt Lake City Airport.

Getting to Palm Springs via Delta required the aforementioned Salt Lake City leg plus a nearly two-hour segment south to Palm Springs. A wave of nostalgia washed over me when I reached the E concourse at Salt Lake for the connecting flight. The Three Amigos always wound up there for a connecting flight to Billings, MT on our legendary Eatons' Ranch boondoggles. We would have a celebratory beer in the little bar squeezed back in one corner of the terminal. I was getting all misty thinking about it. 

The old fountain notwithstanding, the front entrance of the Parker is anything but picturesque.

 Chevy put us up at the Parker, a mere five-minute drive from the Palm Springs Airport. This was once a Holiday Inn and hasn't strayed too far from those roots – except that, no doubt, it's more expensive, probably a lot more expensive. I was there for the cars and not the hotel, but the front entrance looks like the backside of a strip mall. It was clean, cozy and comfortable enough, though. 

The Parker's common-area lounge.

Although there is nothing notable going on inside this structure, its gardens and outside areas spread out behind it are quite lovely. 

The Parker's sprawling gardens are beautiful.

Getting coffee before the restaurant opens at 7 a.m. is a bit of a challenge. That's tough on East-Coast folks whose internal clocks may have them up and out of bed by 3 or 4 a.m. Parker has a small conference center and I suspect a coffee urn or two lying about somewhere, but apparently filling one up and setting it out for early risers never occurred to its management, or maybe it did. Let them eat cake!

I was really fired up about driving the Chevy SS sedan. This marks the brand's first rear-wheel-drive sedan in almost two decades. Chevy pulled no punches with it. Assembled in Australia, it is based on the same Holden sedan as the now departed Pontiac G8. “Based on” being the key words here.

Chevy resisted the temptation of simply attaching a few new pieces and its bow-tie badge to the G8 to create the SS. Engineers at the event said roughly only 10 to 15 percent of the parts were carried over. 

The essential 4-1-1 is that it's powered by a 6.2-liter V8 that delivers 415 hp and 415 lb.-ft. of torque. Chevy clocked its 0-to-60 time at about 4.5 seconds. A six-speed automatic with steering wheel-mounted shift paddles hands off engine grunt to the rear wheels. Front Brembo four-piston grabbers help with the braking assignments.

This is a full-size sedan in every respect. It has a spacious backseat with an ample trunk pass through. Its 16.4 cu.ft. trunk can swallow plenty of stuff.

There has been a lot of attention to detail inside the SS. Stitched-leather surfaces, suede-like inserts in the door panels and sport seats, and night-time blue ambient lighting all contribute to the interior's upscale feel.

One thing I really like about the SS is that there is only one trim level. When you see one, you don't have to look for some tell that identifies which engine or trim level it is. Every SS comes with the same engine, transmission and content. It is loaded with everything from a color head-up display and dual-zone automatic climate control to a nine-speaker Bose-infused audio system and heated/ventilated front seats. Every SS features Chevy's MyLink infotainment system, navigation system and an eight-inch color touchscreen.

On the safety front are forward collision alert, lane-departure warning, rear cross-traffic alert, side blind-zone alert, eight airbags, and rear backup camera.

I put more than 100 miles on the SS during my afternoon drive. Program planners laid out a drive route that was perhaps the most challenging I've ever driven in a sedan. I walked away from that drive with no doubts about its remarkable cornering capabilities. Well planted and outrageously predictable, it really hunkered down in the turns.

If only these walls could speak...a bedroom in Frank's house.

Chevy took us off site for dinner our first night to Frank Sinatra's Palm Springs abode. I had been there a couple of times before. It's surprisingly normal. At least parts of it have been renovated since my last visit. After relating the story of how the sink in the master bathroom was chipped from some sort of altercation between the “Chairman of the Board” and one-time wife Mia Farrow to a couple of people, I was dismayed to find the master bath was one of the rooms that received a makeover. A little history gone.

Stay tuned for my reactions to the Corvette Stingray and Camaro SS.