I Took My Time Machine to the Mechanic, Part One

     In 2008, I got my first "big boy" job out of college.  I was making the most money I'd ever made in my life, so I decided it was time to buy the watch I'd been lusting after for the past eight years: the Omega Seamaster Professional chronometer, model 2531.80, aka "The James Bond Watch."  I did my research to make sure I got an authentic specimen on eBay, and I've been enjoying it ever since.

Omega Seamaster Professional, model 2531.80.  Cue the James Bond theme music.

     Flash forward to 2009.  I'm still at my big boy job, trapped in a mind-numbing tax code training class. My fellow inmate, Paul, notices the Bond watch on my wrist.  He says that he, too, owns an Omega and that he'll wear it the following Monday.  Monday comes and we both try on each other's watch.  His is an older model Seamaster, a cross between a De Ville and a Seamaster.  The white face and two-tone gold-and-stainless-steel construction make it dressy, but the metal Seamaster bracelet and the wave pattern on the dial keep it somewhat sporty.  I instantly start wondering if Paul would consider selling his timepiece of the last 10 years.  However, given my lack of cash at the time, I do not give voice to my curiosity.

     To my pleasant surprise, Paul approaches me a few weeks later, giving me first dibs on purchasing his watch.  I make a cash offer he rejects as too low.  He proceeds to list the Seamaster on eBay and I resign myself to buying that model Seamaster a few years later.  Flying out to visit my buddy Jacob in California takes my mind off the near-miss.

     The day after I returned from California, I received a voicemail from Paul.  In a fit of sentimentality, he decided to return the money to the winning eBay bidder and hold on to the watch that he loved.  However, he ended up contacting me because he was hard-up for money and absolutely needed to sell the watch.

     I met Paul and his young daughter over lunch the next day.  Paul honored my original offer (which was less than what he would've received from his eBay buyer) and I went home with a time-telling trophy.

Omega Seamaster, model 2301.21.

I still thought it was beautiful, scratches and all.

     

     I enjoyed my second Seamaster for several months and one night...it all ended.  I heard something pop when I was winding the watch and from that point forward, the watch wouldn't wind or keep time at all.

     Thinking it would cost more to fix the watch then the amount I spent on it, I never looked into getting it fixed.  I would pretend it worked when I wore it...to sleep.  

     Earlier this year, my mom convinced me to take it into the Russell Korman jewelry store for a free repair quote, just to see if it would cost as much as I thought it would.  And that is where Part Two of this tale picks up.  Look for it soon...

Going Back to the Future: A Layman's DeLorean DMC-12 Design Review



     I've been fortunate to know my best friend Jacob since we were in 7th grade.  We became friends when we started talking about, among other things, the fifth-generation (C5) Corvette.  Our friendship since then has been full of talking about and going to look at cars, as well as watches and clothes.

     Jake, a very talented Transportation Design student at the illustrious Art Center College of Design, has been a supporter of "Watches, Whips and Wardrobe" since I started it and was kind enough to read my term paper about the media practices and biases applied to and exploited by John Z. DeLorean (which you can read elsewhere on "Watches, Whips and Wardrobe" here.)  He recently requested I critique the design of the (in)famous DeLorean DMC-12.  Who am I to say no to my best friend?  Below are a few key facts about the DMC-12 and a layman's analysis of its design. 





DELOREAN DMC-12

Model Years Made: 1981-1983

Number Produced: <9,000 

Country of Production: Northern Ireland

Engine: 2.8 liter V6

Horsepower: 130 (US-spec)

0-60: 10 seconds

Designed By: Giorgetto Giugiaro



The obvious color difference between the stainless-steel-on-fiberglass bodywork and the "nosecone" appears a little low-grade.  I can imagine this piece was not made of stainless steel for safety reasons, though.  (Photo courtesy of ConceptCarz.com.) 

The large, flat trunklid makes me think of an oversized ice chest.  I'd still love to flip it up and fill it with a cool set of matching luggage for a weekend trip out of town.  (Photo courtesy of ConceptCarz.com.)



What design review of the DMC-12 would be complete without a shot of those remarkable gullwing doors?  If people don't notice this car going down the road, they'll certainly notice it when the owner steps out of it.  It really makes me think of a time machine that you're sealed inside of when those unique doors are flush against the perennially attractive bodywork.  (Photo courtesy of ConceptCarz.com.)

For such an attention-getting car, the front end is surprisingly plain. The grill is a generic corporate blank with horizontal ribs and is flanked by nondescript, square headlights. You know what?   I don't care. The DMC-12 looks bad-ass in spite of it.   (Photo courtesy of ConceptCarz.com.)



The profile almost makes me think of a shooting brake. The black side moldings lead your eye down the length of the car and keep it from looking blank and slab-sided. The front wheels appear a little too small, especially when compared to the rear wheels, but the size difference between the two sets gives the car a certain rake and feeling of pent-up power and speed.  However, the car still appears too high-riding.  The tiny side windows are an unfortunate side effect of the construction limitations of the gullwing doors.  (Photo courtesy of ConceptCarz.com.)



The rear end is one of my favorite parts of the DMC-12. The tailights are very '80s grid-style units with amber turn signals, set under a massive rear window covered with black louvres - a cool, Mustang Mach 1 touch. The dual exhausts are a progressive touch for a non-muscle car that went into production in the early 1980s.  Giugiaro worked magic by taking conventional, straight lines and combining them with sterile, unpainted stainless steel to create one of the most eye-catching, iconic automobiles in the world.  (Photo courtesy of ConceptCarz.com.)



This angle shows a substantial rear overhang, adding to the shooting brake image. An original concept sketch of the DMC-12 had the rear side windows blanked out - a choice that, fortunately, did not make it into production. It would have made the rear end look even bigger and heavier and ruined the car's looks. The wheels pleasantly remind me of the face of an airliner's jet engine.  (Photo courtesy of ConceptCarz.com.)

As interesting as the car looks on the outside, its interior is pretty dull.  I blame most of that on the severely limited available color palette of black or grey. Other than that, the design seems to be standard '80s squares and rectangles and white-on-black analog guages. The steering wheel looks like it's straight out of a spare parts bin.   (Photo courtesy of ConceptCarz.com.)



    
     Even though the original DeLorean Motor Company went under, it was resurrected several years ago.  If you live in Texas and you're reading this, I have great news: The new DeLorean Motor Company is now headquartered near Houston, in Humble, Texas!  They restore and repair old DeLoreans and offer "new" cars built out of unused original parts.  Watch out for the all-electric DeLorean DMC-12 coming out this year.  The new DMC has dealerships across the United States and in Europe.  Check out their website at http://delorean.com/.

     You can also check out Motorweek's 1982 review of the DMC-12 on Youtube: http://youtu.be/bh_4LemfCDg.

     If you'd like to see a ton of cool car pictures (including a lot of the DeLorean DMC-12), go to ConceptCarz.com.