The waiting game

Before you buy anything on Amazon, it’s smart to check camelcamelcamel on an item’s historical pricing. Has it been cheaper in recent weeks? Is the discount really a discount, or did the vendor simply raise the price then handed out coupons? If you’re able to wait, it’s good strategy to ensure you’re getting the best price. All the randomized savings here and there can add up bigly.

Amazon, not content to let a third party service get all the ad revenue, have rolled out historical pricing check right in the item description. The “Rufus AI” doesn’t go as far back as camelcamelcamel - the past 90 days versus for as long as an item has been listed, but I reckon three months is sufficient data to see if you’re getting ripped off. Who cares if a thing is $20 cheaper back in 2021. Inflation comes for everything and everyone.

I however am incapable for waiting. The worst part of online shopping is the lag time between ordering and the package arriving at the door. Especially if the item is part of a bigger project I am working on.

I bought a used VW Golf GTI back in October, and I’ve been slowly fixing the flaws left behind by the previous owner. The goal isn’t to make it perfect again - as much as I want to. The goal is to refresh the car to a level where it would be as if I had owned it the entire time. A portion of that is buying new parts to replaced worn out ones. And the worst thing that can happen to me is seeing that an item is backordered.

It seems I don’t get satisfaction until something is done. This in between process stuff is merely an annoyance. Good things come to those who wait? Forget that! I want a project done as quickly as possible so I can move on to other things. In the meantime I’ve got to look at an unfinished - to me - car, and it bugs me every time.

That backordered set of wheels cannot come soon enough.

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Purgatory.

There's another problem

For the obsessive compulsive, buying a used car has one big advantage: it comes already imperfect! Having purchased three new cars in my life thus far, I can say the agony of that first flaw - usually a curb rash on the wheel - hurts a metric ton. The car is no longer perfect, and it is all my fault.

A used car solves that problem. The previous owner(s) blemished the car already. It’s physical impossible to keep a car perfect, short of trailering it from the factory right into a hermetically sealed, climate controlled garage. Forever.

Sadly, the compulsion to keep something perfect rear its head in another way. A few months ago I bought a used 2019 Volkswagen Golf GTI. Ever since delivery, I’ve been fighting a battle to refrain from making it perfect again. Existing curb rashes on the wheels? I should buy a brand new set. The leather steering wheel is excessively worn? A replacement isn’t that much money. What’s another interior trim piece to “fix” the unsightly scratches?

See the problem? Instead of obsessively trying to keep a new car perfect, I am instead obsessively trying to make a used car perfect. Both are bad, I do not recommend. Soon as they figure out a pill for this malady I shall be first in line.

The financially conscious part of me is doing its best to keep the spending in check. The goal is to have a functioning car, properly maintained. Perfection is optional. Replacing wear items like perished rubber window trim is entirely appropriate. Replacing an interior button because the lettering has worn down? I shall not go that far. Not in this economy.

I will be replacing the wheels on the GTI. Because one of them is bent. I’ll allow the extravagance of buying four new wheels, even though I could easily buy just the one to replace the broken rim. We car enthusiasts sure love new car parts, straight from anywhere, not just Japan.

An evening signal.

2018 Audi A3 impressions

Recently my brother traded in his Volkswagen GTI for a 2018 Audi A3, and I got have a brief go in the new-to-him car. Here are some quick thoughts on the entry-level Audi machine, though I’ll caveat my opinions with the fact that my views are incredibly colored by the fact I drive a 911 GT3, the preeminent sports car, so the potential to misjudge a compact luxury sedan with some sporting intentions is quite high. Anyways, here goes.

The first immediate complaint is that the seating position is far too high. My brother’s A3 has the optional sports seat for the driver, and while its comfortable and supportive, it doesn’t go down nearly far enough - the stock seats of the front passenger can go lower, which is just baffling. I’m only 5’10” on a good day, and with the seating position adjusted properly, my hair is brushing the ceiling. I had more headroom in my old Mazda ND MX-5!

The A3’s 2.0-litre turbocharged four-cylinder, ubiquitous within the entire VW group portfolio, offers decent punch and adequate passing power; it makes the car a solid urban runabout with the occasional fun sprinkled in. I was able to zip in and out of traffic with ease. The motor obviously doesn’t make the most entertaining noise, emitting the same dull growl that all other turbo four-poppers make. Coming from the mighty atmospheric GT3, it’s indeed a bit of a let down, and so is the meager redline of barely 7,000 RPM. Gunning through the gears in the A3 for the first time, I almost didn’t upshift in time because I’m so used to having an engine that revs to 9K.

Main reason my brother switched from the GTI to the A3 is for the transmission: at a ripe old age of 21 years, he’s already tired of the manual transmission (someone take his car enthusiast card away, honestly) and wanted out into an automatic. The DSG dual-clutch unit in the A3 proves to be as advertised: the shifts are rapid, and its slow manners are super smooth (it even imitates the off-brake creep forward of a traditional automatic gearbox). It’s definitely engineered towards an economy bent, however: at anything less than full spirit throttle, the DSG will acquiesce to minimizing emissions such as letting the engine rev-hang before snicking over to the next gear, and upshifting to the highest gear as quickly as possible.

Armed with an all-wheel drive system, the A3 never lacks for grip, though the reactive Haldex differential is not an ideal situation. Again, it’s a luxury sedan with some sporting intentions, rather than a pure sports sedan, so the all-wheel drive system is designed towards efficiency, rather than maximizing lap times. Under normal situations ,the A3 feels like a front-wheel drive car because indeed only the front-axle is getting power. It’s not until under certain conditions does the computer activates the Haldex differential and sends power to the rear. I could feel this happening, too: punching the A3 off the line there’s a definite pause because the rear-axle hooks up.

None of this is to say the A3 is a bad car; I can even live with the slightly high seating position. One aspect I cannot excuse, however, is the utter lack of steering feel, a sort of achilles heel of Audi products, even on models as focused as the R8 supercar. The A3’s rack is responsive and direct enough as most modern electric assisted units are, but there’s really no feel at all. I have zero idea what the front tires are doing, and road imperfections gets utterly filtered out. I intentionally ran the car over some cat’s eyes and I couldn’t feel a thing in my hands.

Even though they are built on the same MQB chassis and shares the same engine, I reckon I’d take the GTI over the A3.

Not sponsored by Chanel.

Hot hatches are awesome

I have indeed seen the light.

The Volkswagen Golf GTI is universally known for being the best all-round car for the money, an indefeatable combination of power, sports, and utility. If you need one singular car to do everything in, and you’ve only got around $30,000, the GTI is the definitive answer.

Which explains my excitement a year ago when my brother brought home a brand new 2018 edition of the GTI. I’ve never driven one up until then so I was eager to get a taste of what everyone’s been raving about. For sure it seats four adults in comfort, and the boot can swallow a surprising amount of gear; but does the Golf GTI really live up to its sporting acclaims? 

Initial impressions were a bit of a disappointment. Yes, the power from the 2.0-liter turbo four is wholly sufficient, and the torque shove is tremendous fun on urban routes. However, it’s when I took the GTI through some corners where it started to baffle me: it’s very quick through the turns, but to my hands it felt numb and sterile. It was as if there’s a filter between my inputs and the car’s reactions. The GTI is an adequately fast car, but as is from the factory it’s curiously lacking in driving thrill.

It turns out, the culprit was the tires.

A few months ago my brother had an unfortunately run-in with a serious pothole, and the left front tire got obliterated. A perfect opportunity to swap the stock all-season tires for a set of proper summer performance boots. I recently got a go in the new setup, and the GTI’s dynamics have been utterly transformed. The car was simply let downed by the stock tires.

I finally got to experience the genuine joy of driving a hot hatch. Armed with a sticky set of tires, the GTI becomes incredibly playful and alive. The turn-in is just mega: jerk the steering wheel with abandon, and the front-end responds with seemingly endless grip. Mash the throttle out of a corner, let the limited-slip differential do the work of finding purchase, and the GTI rockets out with the gobs of available torque. The amount of confidence in the front axle so high, it beggars belief it’s front-wheel drive.

Combined with a good manual gearbox and nicely spaced pedals for heel-toe maneuvers, the GTI, when fitted with good set of tires, is an absolute revelation. I can now see why people adore hot hatchbacks; I might need one of my own.

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Gum spots.