Italian Adventure Day 2: More Fish, More Bad Beer, Some Bocelli and Great Cars!

The all-new Alfa Romeo Giulia Quadrifoglio unveiled at the brand's 105th anniversary celebration.

I'm not the kind of guy who always sees the glass as half empty. Usually I'm not...well, sometimes I'm not...oh, hell, all right already, the glass is nearly always half empty. As I rattled around in Milan's airport Sheraton Hotel on day No. 1 of my recent Alfa Romeo trip there, I was more than a little disappointed that we were staying some 30 miles from Milan. All I could see of Italy was the airport out one window and a crowded parking lot out the other.

Because my flight from Atlanta was delayed two hours (Click here to read more about this and some of my thoughts on the trip details.), I didn't arrive in Milan until about 11 a.m. I was all checked in and entering my hotel room by 11:30. The hotel is connected to the airport and its reception desk a brisk 5-minute walk from baggage claim.

I characterize my moving through the hotel as “rattling around” in it because it is absolutely huge. All I can imagine is that unlike the United States, where property surrounding airports is uber expensive, property around the Milan airport must be dirt cheap, or maybe Sheraton won it in a raffle. The amount of wasted space is nothing short of amazing. The guest rooms, as well as the reception area, are average size, but the corridors and walkways are immense.

Where I would expect shops, boutiques, and maybe a bar or two, there is just empty space. I tell you this as a way of explaining that there was simply nothing to do in the hotel except go back to your room, work, read or nap. I guess there is a train that runs from the airport into the city center, but I was worried that I wouldn't get there and back in time for the welcome dinner at the hotel that evening. I chose to hunker down in my room where I read and caught up on my sleep.

Dinner that evening was a sit-down affair in the hotel featuring Milan's favorite food: fish. When in Milan, don't expect to eat anything that didn't swim or at least dwell in the ocean. Despite being nearly 100 miles from the coast, Milan's main dietary staple is seafood. Hey, where's the lasagna; where are the meatballs? One must travel several hundred miles south to find that or just about anything else I think of as Italian food, I'm told.

The cocktail hour before dinner was a tease. There were no cocktails. In fact, the alcohol for this event and every other during this trip, consisted of Prosecco (an Italian champagne-like beverage), Italian wine and Italian beer. The Prosecco was fine as long as you like tiny bubbles in your white wine. The real wine was wonderful. The beer, however, left much to be desired. Italian brew is to beer what the accordion is to chamber music. I'd rather drink a Bud, and that's saying something.

The U.S. pavilion at Expo. Its examples of American cuisine were served from food trucks parked behind the pavilion. BBQ sandwich: about $12.

The next morning our Alfa hosts whisked us off to something called “Expo.” It's a world's fair-like event held in different European cities every few years. This year Milan happened to be the host. Alfa spent the equivalent of roughly $39 for each of us to gain entry to this event. Personally I would have preferred Alfa keeping its $39, taking us into Milan proper and setting us loose for a couple of hours instead. The Expo was basically country-sponsored pavilions showing off some aspect of their science or culture. After walking through each exhibit, visitors reached a gift shop and sometimes a little restaurant featuring the country's cuisine. Returning to the hotel mid afternoon, I broke into my stash of peanut-butter crackers that I always carry when traveling outside the U.S.

A couple of Alfas displayed at its museum.

By 4 p.m., Alfa had us on buses heading to its freshly renovated museum near Milan for the brand's 105^th anniversary celebration. It was more Prosecco and bad beer as we wandered around the joint. It was fun, interesting and educational. The collection of historic Alfas is truly fascinating. 

The Giulia.

Part of the evening was spent at the unveiling of the all-new Giulia (pronounced Julia) four-door that will arrive in U.S. showrooms in mid 2016 as a 2017 model. The version they pulled the wraps off of was the top-of-the-line Giulia Quadrifoglio. It will get its go from a 510-horsepower twin-turbocharged V6. It will be rear-wheel drive and a six-speed manual transmission will be available to turn those wheels. Alfa was pretty sketchy with the details, but did offer that it will accelerate to 60 miles per hour in less than four seconds. It's 3,400 pounds is equally distributed (50/50) across its axles. An all-new double-wishbone arrangement up front and multi-link setup in the rear provides the suspension. And, of course, the emotion of the exterior design is typically Alfa Romeo.

Sergio Marchionne delivering his remarks.

We heard Sergio Marchionne, CEO of Fiat Chrysler Automobiles (FCA), speak to Giulia's role as the kick-off model in Alfa Romeo's rebirth. FCA will invest around $5 billion over the next few years in new product aimed at building Alfa world-wide sales to 400,000 units. That would be about a 600 percent increase over 2014's 68,000 sales.

Andrea Bocelli belting out a tune.

We were also treated to the voice of Andrea Bocelli who briefly performed at the unveiling. All things considered, it was an incredible evening. Of course, it was more seafood at dinner, but after hearing Bocelli sing, who was going to moan about another meal of damn fish? Not me.

The Aerodinamica: What must have been Alfa's first attempt at an Italian Weinermobile.

My flight from Milan back to Atlanta was delayed an hour or so. Apparently weather in Atlanta the previous day had delayed the plane's flight sufficiently to cut into the crew's required down time. My first order of business once comfortably situated in my business-class seat, wearing my Delta-provided booties was to order a beer. It turned out to be a Heineken, but was delicious when compared to the meager Italian attempts at the brewer's art.

Once on the ground in Atlanta, a three-hour slog taking me through Atlanta's notorious rush-hour traffic brought me to my back door.

A bottle of Belching Beaver Peanut Butter Milk Stout and Chinese carry-out were the perfect cappers to my whirlwind, three-day Alfa Romeo Italian adventure.

Travel Update: My Italian Adventure So Far

The Milan airport as viewed from my hotel window.

I'm not the kind of guy who would turn up his nose at a trip to Italy. I mean, come on, who would? I had never been to Italy and it was prominent on my bucket list of countries to visit before I cash in my chips.

So, when AutoTrader asked me to attend the 105^th anniversary celebration for Alfa Romeo in Milan in June in its stead, I was all over it. That's the kind of highly motivated go getter I am.

I responded to FCA – what Fiat-Chrysler now calls itself – announcing my attendance. FCA's travel department contacted me, booking me round-trip, business-class tickets from Atlanta to Milan. I have no clue what the tickets cost, but I'm sure I'm worth of every penny.

My flight was scheduled for 5:50 p.m. I left Greenville around noon for my two-and-a-half-hour drive to Atlanta's airport. I knew my international business-class ticket included admittance to Delta's Sky Clubs, I figured I'd enjoy a stress-free drive to Atlanta and then hang out in a Sky Club drinking Delta's wine until my flight. Although my flight left from E Concourse, I wandered into the Sky Club in F Concourse. This is officially Delta's international terminal. The Sky Club there is quite an operation with a fully stocked bar manned by a couple of bartenders. I'm impressed by any bar anywhere proffering Pappy Van Winkle Bourbon and Don Julio 1942 Tequila. This Sky Club had both. The Pappy was $20 a shot. The 1942 wasn't on the liquor menu, but the bartenders thought it was $8 a shot. $8? I nearly bought a shot, but decided discretion was the better part of valor. I stuck to my wine. I headed for my gate about 45 min before my flight's scheduled departure.

Three other U.S. journalists, as well as a handful of South American media were booked on the same Atlanta/Milan flight. Things got off to a rocky start when the flight was delayed for two hours – in 15- and 20-minute increments, of course – because after two weeks of Atlanta sweltering in 95-plus-degree temps, it didn't occur to anyone at Delta to maybe cool down our plane before it was time to board.

Nope; they left it to the crew to do when they boarded 25 minutes ahead of our scheduled boarding time. It must have been 110 degrees in that metal tube. Even with an auxiliary cooling unit backed up to the plane, pumping refrigerated air into it, dropping the temperature to a balmy 80 degrees required more than two hours.

The flight itself was rather pleasant. Close to nine hours, it provided plenty of time for me to savor a steak dinner, several glasses of wine, watch a movie and catch some shuteye. Extending completely flat, the business-class seats actually allowed me to sleep for two or three hours.

Arriving in Milan, our appearance startled the Italian customs officials on hand to check passports. Because our flight was two hours late arriving, they weren't expecting us. Scrambling around to man their stations, they finally opened for business. I get hassled more flying into San Francisco than I did Milan. The official didn't even scan my passport. He opened it, looked at me and then stamped one of the back pages. No one asked why I was coming to Italy; no one looked in my bags; no one delayed me in any fashion. I didn't check a bag and from the time I walked into baggage claim until I walked into the non-secure area where Alfa representatives were gathered to meet us required all of 45 seconds. Welcome to Italy.

FCA put us up at the Sheraton Malpensa. Malpensa may mean “right next to the airport” in Italian because that's where it is: right next to the airport. After more than 18 hours in Milan, I haven't seen anything but the airport and the hotel; both of which are about 30 miles from Milan.

Dinner and cocktails last night were in the – wait for it – hotel. Cocktails consisted of beer and Italian champagne. The Italians do a lot of things well, but brewing beer isn't one of them. Whatever beer they poured at this event tasted like it was filtered through Mussolini's gym socks. We did have some tasty wine with dinner.

The view from the other side of our hotel. I'm assured that Italy lies somewhere beyond the tree line.

Although I thought I would be able to check “Italy” off my bucket list, I feel like a cheater doing it. I could just as easily be in Des Moines, except I don't see any corn.

We are heading to some expo this morning that has been described as the “World's Fair of Italy.” I guess we'll see. This evening we're heading to the Alfa museum for some sort of pageantry and dinner.

The glass-half-full guy that I am, I'm filled with optimism that I'll catch a glimpse of Italy on one of these outings.

My Last Month: Four Weeks of Nothing Punctuated by 36 Hours of House Cleaning

Company's coming? Crap, I've got to clean this joint! (Obviously this isn't me; he's wearing a tie.)

I'm not the kind of guy who can gin up enough enthusiasm about nothing to sit down and blog about it. And although I enjoy waking up to myself each and every morning, I'm not such a narcissist that I think anyone gives a rat's ass about my every-day life. Do you really want to hear about my day going to the gym, writing an AutoTrader piece, fixing lunch or dozing in my recliner? No, I didn't think so.

I have been anchored to Greenville the past several weeks. I haven't been anywhere in a month. My day-to-day activities the last 30 days have been restricted mostly to writing things for money or adding content to my GreenvilleInsider.com Web site. Just because I make money – calling my writing “earning a living” wouldn't be even remotely accurate – writing, doesn't mean I want to do it 24/7. Consequently Clanging Bell has suffered.

While on my little sabbatical from traveling, I have built, installed and painted a new ramp for the shed. The original simply wasn't sturdy enough to withstand the elements and my sporadic walking on it. I also leveled the ground on which the ramp rests when deployed, installed a border around it and added some river rock. In the meantime, I haven't put a minute into the spare bedroom project in more than six weeks. I did order the small hand-held circular saw needed to proceed; so, I anticipate moving forward with that project beginning in July.

I did enjoy some overnight out-of-town company a week or so ago. Friends for more than 35 years, they are the folks who harbor me on my annual Louisville excursions. On their way to Florida for a business-related retreat, they broke up their trip with a brief stopover in Greenville. That's been the sum total of my excitement for the past month. I basically live the life of a shut-in.

My friends' visit did prompt me to spring into action for a 36-hour house-cleaning frenzy. My house isn't designed for entertaining. It's small. And, although the main floor is one large – well, smallish, actually, – space, there is a fireplace and chimney in its middle, breaking up traffic flow. People who knew me in Kentucky or Florida know I enjoy throwing a party for no particular reason. Can't do that in Greenville; I simply don't have the space for it. I tell you all of this as prologue to admitting, my house isn't always visitor ready.

For 355 to 360 days a year, it's just me and my damn cat rattling around in my 1,000 square feet. Although I'm a-place-for-everything-and-everything-in-its-place sort of guy, keeping the joint basically clutter free, dusting, vacuuming, cleaning toilets and the confluence of all the other little chores that equal a “clean” house aren't a weekly or even a monthly occurrence. Every once in a while I will notice the dust buildup on the top of the unit holding my flatscreen. That will usually motivate me to do a little dusting, which leads to running the electric broom over the floor. Otherwise, cleaning the kitchen counter once a day or so is about as active as I get in the cleaning department.

Two or three times a year someone does actually visit. These aren't drop-ins, but out-of-towners like my Louisville friends who announced their arrival somewhat in advance. Whether they stay for a night, a weekend or a week, I have to engage in the same amount of preparation. Because I clean so infrequently, I am really an amateur at it. There's no mental checklist. I don't have a “cleaning routine.” I simply glance around and think to myself, if I was a female-type person, what would gross me out? I then prioritize my targets by gross-out degree and get busy. Clean sheets on the guest bed: check. Clean sink and toilets in the bathrooms: check. Feet don't stick to the kitchen floor: check.

I spent more time cleaning my abode than my friends stayed in it. The good news, though, my house is good and clean for another four months or my next overnight guests, whichever comes first.

2016 Nissan Maxima in Nashville: Stellar Car, Great Whiskey and Vince Gil!

The amazing Vince Gil.

I'm not the kind of guy who says, no, to an evening with Vince Gil. Truth be told, I didn't even know a side trip to listen to Gil play and sing with The Time Jumpers, a country swing group with which he has been affiliated for five or six years, was on the agenda when I eagerly accepted Nissan's invite to Nashville to audition the redesigned Nissan Maxima in May.

I have seen a raft of country artists in concert: everyone from Taylor Swift to Willie Nelson. Only two remained on my must-see-at-some-point bucket list: Vince Gil and Garth Brooks. I was obliged to enter a check mark beside Vince's name on this trip. 

Nashville is Nissan's North American home and a place I love to visit, especially when Nissan is throwing the affair. Nissan's events there always include an evening of dropping into a honky tonk or three to catch some great music. On the Maxima event, Nissan treated those of us who wanted to go to the show at a joint called 3^rd & Lindsley. The Time Jumpers play there most Monday nights. It's only $20 to get in – a bargain by any metric. 

"Ranger Doug" Green tips his hat to my camera.

Upon hitting the door, our little band split off into several smaller groups. A good buddy and I with a couple of Nissan PR types, blocking for us like a couple of pulling guards, hustled up the stairs, across the left-side balcony and then down the back stairs to come to rest just off the left side of the stage. We didn't have seats, but who wants to sit listening to country swing anyway? I was able to work my way around the front of the stage snapping photos as I went. At one point, “Ranger Doug” Green stopped in the middle of a song to tip his hat to my camera, to the glee of his band mates and the audience. A little red faced (well, more red faced than usual), I slunk back to our little stage-left conclave.

This isn't Gil's band; consequently, his vocals were only featured every fourth-or-so song, but he sang backup and played that magical guitar throughout the night. 

Good friends, a couple of PBRs and some great music: a special night, indeed.

Sinema's well-stocked bar.

It was the wrap to an evening that also included dinner at Sinema, a converted movie theater transformed into a wonder restaurant. The food was exceptional and it featured one of the most extensive whiskey bars I've seen. There were a few bourbons with which I was totally unfamiliar. It was difficult, though, to sample those when the list included Black Maple Hill Bourbon and two versions of Angel Envy Rye. Oh, Momma. 

Just a couple of the bourbons I'd never seen before.

 Oh, and about that 2016 Maxima – the actual reason I was in Nashville – it's brilliant. 

Here's the skinny....

With Maxima's redesign, Nissan is reviving its 4-door sports-car legend. This was its marketing tagline when first introduced in 1981 – seven generations ago. Near-luxury shoppers, however, need not despair, Maxima hasn't lost any of its high-end appeal with the redesign.

Nissan claims its exterior styling was inspired by jet fighters after the design team made a trip to Pensacola, Fla. to visit with the Navy's Blue Angels. It's always good to have a little lore tossed into your product development story. In any case, the exterior wrapper is beautifully sculpted. One of the notable styling updates is what Nissan is calling the V-motion grille. 

With 61 percent of its parts all new, the 300-horsepower 3.5-liter V6 delivers its output to the front wheels by way of a new continuously variable transmission (CVT). Nissan has been pretty much married to the CVT for the past several years and probably does it better than anyone. Product-planning types borrowed a gimmick or two from the GT-R's engine, like sodium-filled valves, to improve performance. Government estimates put fuel economy at 22 mpg city, 30 highway and 25 combined city-highway driving.

With a center stack angled toward the driver, the new cockpit, is clearly drivercentric. A generous eight-inch touchscreen, located at the top of the center stack, is the face of the navigation system, standard on even the $32,410 entry-level S grade. Operating with pinches and swipes like a smart phone, the touchscreen also honchos the NissanConnect with its apps, Google search and other functions. A noise-canceling technology helps maintain low noise levels in the cabin.

A rearview camera is standard. Other safety features available as you work your way up through the five trim levels are Forward Collision Warning, Driver Attention Alert, Forward Emergency Braking, Blind Spot Warning, Rear Cross Traffic Alert and 360-view camera.

Taking a page from the Honda play book, to gain more content, you must step up in grade; there are no factory options.

We spirited the new Maxima around the Tennessee country side. It handled well even when aggressively pushed. It's comfortable, quiet and fun to drive. All in all, it can go toe to toe with the entry-level cars of any luxury brand, offering a more sporty driving experience than several of them.

Saving a Little Money on Tree Removal May Have Cost Me Again!

The new shed is an expense I can be enthusiastic about.

 I'm not the kind of guy that relishes spending big bucks on crap that must be done around the house. I don't mean actual home improvements, but I refer to things that must be done for general upkeep.

I'm happy – almost gleeful, really – to pump bucks into remodeling and refurbishing projects that not only improve my home's usability and/or appearance, but add a little value as well. The $1,300 to $1,600 (My record keeping wasn't all it could have been.) my recent shed project cost me was money well spent in my opinion. Looking at it – let alone using it – always makes me smile. I have no buyer's remorse as I stroke out the monthly checks to American Express, the credit card on which I charged most of the cost. Not only am I pleased with the way it looks, it has proven to be everything I wanted it to be in terms of utility. The $300 or so I recently spent on a new water heater, however, doesn't provide me with the same warm fuzzies.

There is also a definite lack of warm fuzzies with regard to my current tree-removal escapade.

As I gazed out my upstairs bathroom window on Friday morning, I realized one of the huge (three or four stories high) pine trees in my backyard was dead – not dying, but deader than a doornail. How long had it been like that? No clue. Apparently, I don't spend a lot of time in my yard gazing skyward.

Almost overnight, it seems, the tree on the right died.

Originally one member of a cluster of three similarly sized pines – all leaning in drastically different directions – this pine took a big hit a few winters ago when a wet snow snapped off one of its major lower branches. I have no clue if this was the beginning of its end, but something sure as heck struck it a mortal blow.

One of its two siblings was felled by a door-to-door tree cutter a year ago last November. He did it as one element of a job that cleared the air space over my house of trees and branches that could come crashing down in a severe storm. That particular tree was leaning at a precarious angle over my house. I still have several huge logs in the yard that the tree cutter never returned to collect and remove. What do I expect for $250?

Logs left behind by my last bargain-basement door-to-door tree cutter.

The recently dead pine refused to be ignored. (Perhaps it's just sleeping, I briefly hoped.) No, it leans over the street that runs along the side of my lot. Figuring the cost would be much higher to have it cut up and removed from the the street if some part of it wound up straddling the pavement after a storm, I rifled through my papers and found a flyer from yet another door-to-door tree cutter who came a-callin' four or five months ago.

Discovering the phone number on the flyer was still in service was a positive development, I thought. Dialing the number I was connected to the person the flyer identified as the office manager. Possessing a different last name than the flyer-identified owner, I have no clue how she fits into the door-to-door-tree-cutting-company pecking order. I could barely hear her over the racket of a chainsaw in the background. She eventually strolled far enough from the din that I could hear she was turning the phone over to her son Joey. He took my name and other particulars and said they would be by later in the afternoon to provide an estimate. I'm unsure as to her field role with this little company. For the less than three hours they were at my house on Saturday, she and some guy sat on the hood of her car watching her son and Billy work.

Good to Joey's word – another positive sign – I got a knock on my door about 5 p.m. After throwing on a shirt and sandals, I stepped out into my carport to find some old faded-blue sedan of indeterminate make in my driveway with four or five people stuffed in it. Emerging from the driver's seat, Joey extended his hand and introduced himself. He and another guy – Billy, I later learned – walked with me around the house to the problem tree.

10:45 a.m.

Breaking their business-conference huddle, the two turned to me and Joey offered, “We'll take the dead one out for $500, or we'll take it and the other one out for $600.”

“That includes removing all the wood, right?” I questioned.

“Yep.”

“Will you remove those, too?” I asked pointing to the half dozen big logs left by the last tree cutter.

“Yep,” the ever eloquent Joey answered.

“How about grinding out the stumps?” I pushed my luck.

“We don't grind stumps,” Joey replied, “but we got somebody who does. It'll probably cost you another $100 for that. We don't remove the wood either, but I got a guy. I included the cost in the $600.”

“Sold!” I said. “When?”

“You're on the top of our list tomorrow,” Joey promised. “Billy likes to sleep in on Saturday; so, we'll be here around 10.”

“Works for me,” I answered. “Will you take a check?”

“Yep. Make it out to my mom.”

Long story, short, er, shorter: I got a call from Joey around 10 on Saturday morning telling me they were running a little late. Apparently Billy couldn't get his big ass out of bed. I had an errand downtown and returned home around 10:45 to find them preparing to start the job. By noon both trees were down, cut up and ready to be hauled away.

Noon.

 Joey told me the guy who hauls the wood away and does the stump grinding was on a job and probably wouldn't be by until Monday. No worries on my end, I told him, as long as he could wait until everything was done to get paid. He appeared cool with that.

We'll see what happens from here. I still have my $600 and a side yard full of downed trees.

Sometimes being a cheapskate doesn't make for smooth sailing.

2015 TV Season: Some Canceled and Some Saved

I'm not the kind of guy whose social schedule mirrors TV Guide. That is to say, I'm not a slave to any TV shows, but then, I have the luxury of a DVR to record favorites when I'm not home to watch. Actually, though, I record everything I watch, so I can fast forward through the commercials. 

Among my TV-series box sets are the seven seasons of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" that I purchased 10 years ago at a retail cost of about $250.

One of my few nods to the digital age is streaming a few series from Netflix or Amazon Prime for binge watching. Just a few years ago, you had to buy or rent a season's worth of a series in a DVD box set to binge watch it. I have a few such collections that I purchased at anywhere from $25 to $50 a season. Cha-ching!

I just completed watching all but the most recent season of “Scandal” on Netflix. I'll watch the most recent season once Netflix posts it. I am currently hooked on “The Killing.” It's a four-season crime drama that aired on the AMC network a couple of years ago. It took two 13-week seasons to get through the 25-day investigation into the killing of a 17-year-old girl. Yes, it drags in spots, but over the course of 26 episodes, I was convinced four or five different people committed the crime just to be surprised at the very end of the last episode of season 2 by who actually did it.

The Killing's Enos and Kinnaman.

I like the two detectives Sarah Linden, played by Mireille Enos, and Stephen Holder played by Joel Kinnaman, who are the central characters of the show. Well written, the first two seasons were pretty compelling. I'm ready to launch into season 3. The one thing about this show I find annoying and almost comical is that virtually everyone smokes. Adapted from Danish TV, “The Killing” may just be laboring under a strong European influence. Smoking is almost a medal sport in Europe and Scandinavia. Barely a scene goes by where someone isn't puffing away. Nearly everyone, but the youngest of children, light up at some point or another. If I watched it with someone, we'd play a drinking game where we would do a shot every time someone lights up. Of course, we'd be shitfaced before the first commercial break. Otherwise, this is a wonderfully engaging show.

A couple of times a year I search “canceled TV series” to see which of the shows I follow is returning next season and which isn't. I am often disappointed by shows that their networks ax and by the ones that, despite questionable entertainment value, are renewed. 

Battle Creek's buddies.

Here are some of my biggest disappointments among canceled shows so far this year on the major networks:

Forever ABC – A well-crafted show about a medical examiner who doesn't age or die.

Revenge ABC – A wonderfully decadent soap-opera drama of revenge and hate.

Battle Creek CBS – A terrific buddy story starring the guy in the State Farm “Chaos” commercials.

Stalker CBS – A police drama with a top-notch cast and an excellent sound track.

Backstrom Fox – An unapologetic drunken, misogynistic police lieutenant leads a detective squad.

State of Affairs – A political/CIA drama starring Katherine Heigl (enough said!).

Backstrom.

Among the series airing on cable networks I am most sorry to see eliminated is FX's “Justified.” It's a serial crime drama starring Timothy Olyfant as a U.S. Marshal working in Kentucky's Appalachia region. Excellent writing, characters and actors. It's fun TV. You can stream it on Amazon Prime.

Timothy Olyphant as Justified's Marshal Raylan Givens.

Here are announced renewals that have me scratching my head, wondering who exactly watches these turkeys:

Terrible acting and lackluster writing characterize each and every episode of 2 Broke Girls.

The Bachelor ABC – An idiot acting idiotically toward other idiots.

Extreme Weight Loss ABC – This is entertainment, really?

How to Get Away With Murder ABC – Perhaps the least watchable show of the 2015 season.

Secrets and Lies ABC – With neither a character nor an actor with any redeeming quality whatsoever.

2 Broke Girls CBS – I laugh more in 10 minutes of “The Bachelor.” Worst-written comedy on TV.

Big Brother CBS – Snore...do we really care about any of these people?

Survivor CBS – I'd like to vote it off the island.

Hannibal NBC – A grim, dark train-wreck in which every character is nuttier than squirrel poo.

And there you have it: my current TV status.

I'm sure you were wondering.

Dazzling the One Percenters: All-New Fiat 500X Goes to Beverly Hills

I'm not the kind of guy who spends a lot of time wandering the boulevards of Beverly Hills. In fact, I don't think I had ever been there before the recent Fiat media event introducing the all-new 2016 500X crossover. I may have skirted this community on some previous carmaker ride and drive, but if so, I don't remember it. But then my memory isn't all that it used to be.

Fiat put us up at the trendy Mr. C Beverly Hills. This is an accommodation both upscale and a bit odd. The dominating art lining its public spaces and guest rooms is a series of large black-and-white candid photos of people you think you should recognize, but can't quite place them. That's because they aren't celebrities; rather, they are just civilians mugging for the camera. I guess that's one way to save a few bucks on the decorating. 

Mr. C Beverly Hills is buffered from the city itself by three or four blocks of private residences. Upon arriving at the hotel, I took advantage of the early hour by hiking the few blocks into the heart of Beverly Hills in search of some craft beers. Strolling by Rodeo Drive, I eventually arrived at Bedford & Burns on Bedford Avenue just off of Wilshire Boulevard. There I had the bar and the attention of the bartender all to myself. Only three craft beers were on tap and one of those an IPA from the despicable Stone Brewery. That alone almost sent me packing. Calming down, however, I searched the bottled-beer list and found Moose Drool Brown Ale from Montana's Big Sky Brewery. A staple of my Eatons' Ranch visits over the years, I simply couldn't pass it up.

Dinner that evening was at the Smog Shoppe. This is a wedding venue. No one tied the knot, but the catered dinner was good. If memory serves, I think there were some drinks, too.

The next morning, we were introduced to the star of the show at an hour-long presentation. The 500X looms over Fiat's core 500 in size and cost. Offered in five trims, the 500X base prices range from $20,000 for the entry-level Pop to $27,100 for the Trekking Plus. All grades but the Pop can be armed with all-wheel drive. 

Beneath the skin, the 500X shares mechanicals with the recently released Jeep Renegade. This isn't a bad thing. Renegade is a wonderfully competent off roader. Roomy and comfortable, the 500X relies on either a 160-horsepower 1.4-liter turbocharged four-cylinder or a 180-horsepower 2.4-liter engine. Both use a nine-speed automatic transmission to transfer output to the wheels. 

AWD versions get a rear axle that completely disconnects when only two-wheel propulsion is required. That saves fuel. A grocery list of available and standard features provide as much safety and gee-whiz technology as you could want. Things like Uconnect, Forward Collision Warning, Lane Departure Warning, navigation, Bluetooth connectivity and so forth are among the 500X's goodies.

We zipped around southern Calif. on our ride and drive. We cruised along the beach, as well as negotiating the foothills. This wasn't a particularly challenging drive, but it did include a healthy dose of twists and turns. The 500X really handles!

Lunch was back at 3Labs Warehouse in Culver City where we had soaked up 500X details with rapt attention earlier in the day. The lunch highlight was a food truck offering wood-fired pizza.

The 500X should raise Fiat's U.S. profile. Although the tiny 500 can be written off as one of many econoboxes, the 500X casts a much larger shadow, difficult to ignore. Italian styling plus a high level of utility will put the 500X on the consideration list of people who, up to this point, probably haven't given Fiat much thought.

Once returned from our 500X outing, Fiat kept us at the hotel where we had dinner, wrapping up the evening with cocktails in the hospitality suite. Not being much of a shopper, the lure of Beverly Hills is lost on me. However, rubbing elbows with the one percent is always entertaining.