If you ride a motorcycle, you’ve probably had it out by now. Like daffodils and tulips, the bike enthusiasts herald the arrival of spring.

I don’t ride, though I cover motorcycle events. I’ve taken the training (I’m contemplating a second go at my test, if only to prove to myself I can pass it), and done rides with colleagues and friends. I’m an excellent passenger, I’m told. I just don’t have a burning desire -yet- to be a rider, something I believe is vital if you’re going to be a good, safe rider.

What I do have is respect for those I know who do ride. While the headlines will fill with the reckless actions of a few, the vast majority of riders simply want to share the road, enjoy their transportation choice, and get home safely. Like all of us.

The motorcycle course I took through Humber College a number of years ago provided me with some of the best training I’ve ever received. I’ve taken countless advanced driver training courses in cars, but the perspective from a bike is much different, with so much more at stake on the outcome. That awareness has carried over into how I drive and how I treat others on the road. The invincibility you have in a car evaporates when transferred to two wheels; you quickly become aware how vulnerable you are to the slightest error of either your own actions, or those around you.

Instructor Liz Jansen is more than a motorcycle rider; she’s an ambassador for the sport throughout North America, works with corporate clients, organizes rides and has written an excellent book, Women, Motorcycles and the Road to Empowerment, on the role that motorcycles have played in the lives of a fabulous cross section of different women. Meeting her, you’d never think ‘biker chick’. Ever. But her calm demeanor lends itself well to teaching others to be good riders, and to respect the laws of the road as well as the laws of physics. She’s been on a bike; she’s been under one.

I turned one of our usual conversations on its head recently. What would you tell drivers, I asked her, instead of just motorcyclists? What do you think motorists should know about the bikes they share the road with?

I’ve yet to see a discussion between motorcyclists and drivers that didn’t get heated at some point. Her responses were as welcome as they were thoughtful, acknowledging the wrong doings on both sides, often due to ignorance rather than malice.

Got a pack of riders ahead of you? Can’t get around? “Wise leaders of groups keep their packs manageable; like 8 motorcycles. If a driver can’t safely pass a whole group, fatalities occur when we have nowhere to go.” A long string of staggered riders is as dangerous to them as it is annoying to you. Smart ones don’t do it.

Some rogue riders are simply breaking the law. It’s illegal to ride with your high beam light on all the time; it’s illegal to lane split; it’s illegal to have those ear splitting pipes. We have the laws, we need the enforcement applied consistently.

Smart riders will be easily seen to a motorist by staying out of possible blind spots. “Riders are taught to ride in the inside tire track on a 2 way road” says Jansen, “because it’s easier to see them approaching. On a four lane road, we advise using the left tire track on the inside lane in most circumstances.”

Speaking of being seen, high visibility gear makes sense. You’ll also see many motorcyclists using hand signals as well as turn signals to draw the attention of motorists. Jansen notes that while it’s true bikes are easy to slow by gearing down, students are taught to tap their brakes so those around them know what they’re doing. This is a good tip for anyone using a manual transmission.

Riders are trying to keep a safe buffer zone ahead of them. That debris in the road that you can drive safely over can be deadly on a bike. They can also stop more quickly than a car, so don’t tailgate. Flipside, bikers who cut in and out of traffic and race down shoulders should remember they’re one angry driver away from bad news.

“Please be considerate of motorcyclists behind you. If you can avoid it, don’t pick that time to use your windshield washer. Never throw trash and cigarette butts out the window. Especially when a motorcyclist is behind you. Riders have had butts stuck in their helmet.”

If you see a motorcyclist zipping by in a T-shirt and flip-flops, you’re right to shake your head. Those same stones that can crack a windshield can equally get flung up into flesh. Smart riders will wear proper gear regardless of the weather, but that can mean a lot of heat in summer. Traffic jams are far more uncomfortable without the comfort of air-conditioning.

“Put your smart phones away. We have a bird’s eye view of what goes on in cars and it’s scary,” says Jansen. Actually, that’s good advice no matter what you’re piloting. She’s also the first to tell riders to make sure they have the right skills. “If you can’t keep up safely, don’t be out there.”

A little consideration on both sides goes a long way, and everybody gets home.

I am ensnared in a love hate relationship of occasionally epic proportions. Some days its import sears through me; other days, I give it not a single thought. Like having a spouse who lies about all day and refuses to get a job, I find myself grudgingly supporting a habit I know I should break. I hate Highway 407.

I’ve paid a few bucks in the Maritimes to cross bridges and passes, and I’m used to it getting into the U.S. at most crossover points. The 407 ETR (Express Toll Route) in the GTA, however, remains the shining Canadian example of a long range toll road.

I watched on the news the other day as a man pleaded with the company that the bills he was receiving couldn’t possibly be his: the personalized plates in question were still in the packaging in his home, a gift ordered for his daughter who’s never owned a car. An annoying charge to fight is one thing; but an unpaid bill with the 407 can result in plate denial come renewal time.

Kevin Sacks, vice president of communications for the 407, says incidents like these are extremely rare. I asked the best way for a customer to contest a charge, and he said it’s important to contact them right away. In the case of fraud, as those personalized plates, he says to report it to the police.

Hamilton lawyer David Thompson is currently helming a $25 million class action lawsuit against the corporation, claiming they are continuing to push those who have entered into bankruptcy into payment. “Plate denial is a powerful debt remedy used by the government in cases of non-releasable debts,” says Thompson. He acknowledges the 407s contention that they are an open access highway with no way to keep people off of it, and therefore need powerful debt collection. “But child support, student loans and fraud survive bankruptcy. To elevate the 407 to that level would mean that corporations like VISA should be lobbying to also survive bankruptcy.”

While a lower court ruled in favour of the 407 last year, Thompson will be back for the appeal next month on June 10th. Much rides on the outcome; case law is all over the place, according to Thompson, and this outcome will resonate beyond a toll road. Sacks declined to comment on the case, citing the upcoming trial.

I recently misplaced my transponder. That’s the little black box you affix to your windshield that is supposed to save you money by instantly charging your account instead of snapping a picture of your plate. That’s called a video toll. I pay a transponder lease amount, 3 bucks a month. I could pay annually, but I don’t.

They are explicit that you should never move your transponder from vehicle to vehicle. That’s all fine and dandy, but I’m usually in a different car every week that I don’t own; many people I know would prefer that their transponder was theirs to use as they wish. After all, I conservatively reckon I’ve been paying that lease fee for probably 7 years, which means that 25 cent piece of plastic has cost me over $250. I called them to request a replacement.

They dinged me $50. Even my equally Machiavellian cell phone company gives me a new phone every few years. Which reminds me: how come I can’t just use my smart phone like a transponder? Oh, wait. Because then they couldn’t charge me hundreds of dollars for a wee chunk of plastic, and then fifty more if I lose it.

I usually avoid taking the road, because it is indeed a choice. But with traffic in the GTA ranking in the very worst in North America (I know you’re sick of hearing that, but it’s true) there are times when even my first choice, to leave lots of extra time, is thwarted.

Toll talk is heating up, and it’s important to realize that this is everyone’s concern, not just drivers. You don’t have a car? You’re not too worried if they introduce tolls on other highways? That’ll work in your tally of daily outlay for getting around, but watch as everything you consume goes up, because almost everything gets to you in a truck that travels on those very highways.

It’s a knotted ball of problems containing transit, infrastructure, commuter times and taxes. There is no war on cars, but there does need to be a war on congestion. The fact it should have been tackled in city planning war rooms decades ago reminds you how unsexy a discussion it is. “Build more roads” is a silly answer; that’s up there with “bake a bigger pie”.

The very real concerns are chunks of the Gardiner Expressway falling down; of a sinkhole, coming soon to a neighbourhood near you; of a burgeoning population driving on roads that reached their peak capacity over a generation ago; of a failure to get individuals out of their cars because decent, viable transit options don’t exist.

On the side of every gas pump is a sticker indicating what percentage of the cost of fuel I’m paying goes towards infrastructure, transit, HOV lanes and anything classified as an eligible project under the Gas Tax Fund Agreement. Toronto “ will receive $1,024,698,448 from the GTF between 2005 and 2014”, which is a very big number, but nowhere near enough.

I believe toll roads are inevitable in the GTA. I hope the money raised will indicate a very clear line between what is collected and what is spent, because the crisis we’re in now leads me to believe every level of government has been buying beer with the broccoli money.

Just do me a favour: don’t model the process after the 407ETR.

Just because you can, does that mean you should?

Most of us know that answer to that. There is a time to stop wearing miniskirts just as there is a time to stop using the word “dude”. Most of us recognize that time, even if it might be a little belatedly in some cases.

So who thinks a 96 month car loan is a good idea? Everyone has heard someone say they have a 23-month-old child, and your brain tells you they have a two-year-old. Though that parent is striving to be precise, in the car industry that number fudging is being done for the opposite reason: to muffle the noise around the fact you just signed on to take 8 years to pay off your car.

It’s easy to blame banks or dealers, but it’s consumers who have created this. For as often as a buyer might be massaged into a car they can’t afford, that buyer allows himself or herself to be talked into buying a car a month at a time.

Before the implosion of the car industry, people who stood helplessly in a dealership unable to make the numbers work were introduced to leasing, once the domain of high end cars and business purchases. Don’t have $750 a month to purchase that car? No problem. Let’s lease and watch that number plummet. Honey, for only 28 bucks more a month, we can have the leather interior! Another 10, the kids can have their own video players! And at the end of the lease term, you hand back your rented car, and walk home.

Except you usually don’t. Leasing can be like a meth addiction: by the end of the lease, you realize your charges for mileage overages and “reasonable” wear and tear (was there ever a more subjective clause?) will swamp you, and the only way to ratchet them down is to roll over into a new transaction with the same dealer. Hooked. Your (car) dealer doesn’t want to lose a customer, and you realize just how easy it is to keep going.

My favourite argument, ever, on why leasing is magic goes like this: the money you save by leasing over buying goes into a separate account. At the end of the leasing term, you have a pot of gold to go buy another car. Except you didn’t have that margin of cash to begin with, which is why you are leasing. Hans Christian Andersen had nothing on a good salesman.

When the leasing industry effectively shuttered its doors for many outlets, there had to be a new go-to option for getting that payment lowered. Again, because so many stare only at that monthly amount, it wasn’t difficult to stretch the term to keep the customer. 48 months was a pretty stock term just a few short years ago. 4 years, at which point you owned your vehicle and could start deferring some funds for maintenance that would be required outside of warranty.

Now, in Canada the average term is 62 months. I heard a VW advertisement the other night for 84 months. I actually looked up at the TV. Then I did some counting. 7 years. It took very little digging to find out even that was child’s play: 96 months is being offered by some dealers and banks alike.

In a rush to make the most money off the biggest demographic, loans like these are eerily reminiscent of a time when people south of the border were being offered similar fabulous deals, but on their homes. What’s not attractive about being told there really is a way to have what you really, really want when you believed it was outside your reach? We all watched the U.S. mortgage market crumble, as houses plunged underwater. The most troubling part? Real estate historically has appreciated, or at least held its own, generally speaking. My Santa Fe sitting in the driveway, much as I like it, is not destined to be a collector’s item any time soon.

So how do you sign onto a loan you can afford? It’s easy to say just buy less car. But, just buy less car. People frequently head into a dealership with one type of car in mind, then quickly get lured into another part of the showroom, especially when they see it’s “only” this much more a month. Stick to your plan; most manufacturers are producing highly competitive cars in every segment, and don’t be nabbed by howdy doody add-ons you don’t really need.

Can’t find a new car in your price range? Go used. Cars are lasting long – anyone who talks about the good old days when it comes to cars has on rose coloured glasses. You can’t beat the safety features and technology in modern cars, even those a few years old. There is far more leeway in the cars available than there is in your budget.

Snoop past the icing on these deals, the zero percent financing and the no-money-down. Add up the total cost, take a hard look at the shiny asset that will only become a liability, and decide if you still want to be making payments when your third grader starts driving.

Sorry. I mean your 96-month-old

“My beloved Audi broke down a few weeks ago at the set of lights 60 metres from my shop…it happened in front of a police cruiser who stopped to help me but he wasn’t allowed to help me push it into the driveway. I attempted to call one of my tow companies that we deal with but it was a Sunday and I couldn’t get a hold of anyone. The police officer said he needed to get me off the road and if I couldn’t arrange a tow he would have to call one, which I reluctantly agreed to.”

My friend Lou, a mechanic, continues.

“Moving my car 60 metres cost me $450.00”

It could have been even worse. I call them preying mantises, those idle tow trucks sitting by the highway. Anticipating your bad luck so they can swing a hook and capitalize on you at your most vulnerable. Even a small crash or vehicle breakdown is alarming for most of us. We drive thousands of kilometres for years and often never experience anything going wrong; turn the key and go. So when that is tersely interrupted, our coping skills hit a tailspin.

But not to worry; a totally unregulated industry of people now poised to take control of your compromised situation are never far from hand. Welcome to the Wild West: the tow truck industry in Ontario.

Are there any good guys out there? Absolutely there are. But when there is no need to play by the rules – because there essentially aren’t any – how long do you think it will take for the bad guys to run the town?

In a nutshell, anyone can be a tow truck driver. You, me, my recently G licenced kid. This is unfortunate, because I like to think anyone who can drive away with what is probably your second most expensive asset should be trained, professional and bondable. But rules? What rules? Every municipality has their own set of bylaw regulations, and none of them mesh. A tow operator licenced in Oakville may be expected to follow that city’s bylaws, but the second he’s over the boundary into, say, Mississauga, all bets are off. And your wallet is open.

A fee to hook the car; a fee to move it even a few metres, like out of a live lane of traffic. A fee to travel a distance; a fee to get it to an impound; a fee to get it to a shop; a fee to take it off the hook. Storage fees, administration fees, fees, fees, fees. And I need payment before I’ll unhook it, thankyouverymuch.

They’re so much nicer at the moment you meet. Maybe you’re sitting there, traffic whizzing by, when your white knight arrives. If you didn’t call for this truck yourself, you are probably about to get ripped off. You can ask how much, but remember, there are no provincial rules in place. He will solicitously offer to take your car to a place he guarantees can take care of it. His guarantee has most likely been bought for anywhere between 15-25% of the value of the repair, in cash. This is his buddy’s shop, after all. But not to worry; his buddy will simply inflate the bill so that your insurance company covers it.

If he’s really on the ball, he might even – surprise!- have a business card of a great lawyer handy. For you to get justice of course, from that insurance company. More bills are peeled off a wad at the lawyer’s office.  You want to know why our insurance rates have hit usurious levels? Follow the food chain from the crash to the payouts. With rogue towers, every step of the way there is money changing hands. Unregulated, unaccounted for, money.

Well, shouldn’t the police step in? I mean, they’re right there sometimes, right? The provincial police are not out trying to enforce local bylaws, and that is the only thing governing tow truck operators. They want that stalled or wrecked car out of the way as soon as possible, and while they’re quite good about letting you call the CAA to have the service performed, time is both money and safety and nobody can wait forever. Most police have a list of their own towing contacts, which is a layer of protection for the consumer but not enough.

A CAA membership is a hedge against this highway robbery. For a hundred bucks a year, you’ll get great service, including a specified amount of tows within a specified distance. Tow truck operators who are contracted by the CAA across the country give you a level of accountability not found with the preying mantises. The only catch? There may be a delay, as the CAA provides many services to its many members, and attending collision scenes isn’t its primary duty.

So what does the Insurance Bureau of Canada think of the towing issue? For Manager of Consumer and Industry Relations, Peter Karageorgos, the list is immediate.

“To start with, even those trucks just sitting there is a hazard. They’re a distraction and they cause collisions,” he says. How handy. I ask how the public, often traumatized or vulnerable when they need them the most, can protect themselves. The response is instant.

1. Never sign a blank work order.
2. Agree on a final cost of the tow before your vehicle is even hooked. Get it in writing. Some municipalities are leading the charge, with Vaughn already having forms to handle this.
3. Know where you want your vehicle towed to. While this might be difficult in some circumstances, give your routine a look, and ask yourself this question now. Familiarize yourself with possible dealers or shops that are on the beaten path for your daily trek.
4. If it’s safe and you can, call your insurance company. Many now have 24/7 phone assistance, and can help you with these questions.
5. Listen for red flags. What reputable company will only accept cash, often hundreds of dollars?

Willowdale MPP Liberal David Zimmer introduced Bill 147 in 2008 to change this industry. And again in 2010. Despite party support, it again stagnated.

Smarten up, Ontario. This isn’t Dodge, and we’re sick of getting robbed in broad daylight.

I noticed when they closed it and I noticed when they tore it down. These events were separated by a handful of years, but when I saw a recent development notice, I knew the new landscape would permanently erase the old one this time.

Buildings come and go, ostensibly to better suit the needs of many, but more often to fatten the coffers of a few.  The west end of Plains Road in Burlington – Aldershot -  used to house a long block of stores. The people living out there had the A&P, videos, a Zellers (once Towers department store), a liquor store, a restaurant, a licencing office and a bank. It was a service plaza, the parking lot a little ratty, and it never really recovered after the Burlington Mall was built in 1968, an event even I can remember as A Very Big Deal.

It’s all been gone for years now, because beneath that tired asphalt was property value begging to be exploited. The irony of course, is that they tore down all of this to put in various residential high-rises, and now all those people must drive to shop for things once sold right there.

In the east end of that parking lot was a Canadian Tire. It was small; I think it had a single service bay when I was a kid, though I could be wrong. There was a larger, far fancier Canadian Tire in the middle of town, one that kept growing and getting shinier by the year as it adapted to Burlington’s burgeoning population. Even so, it was the tiny one in the west end that was perfect for say, a father and his small daughter to go to buy a handful of screws or a particular drill bit. Unable to find the right size washer on the twist tie where he stored them like beads on a necklace, Dad and I would go to Canadian Tire. Today, of course, I buy packages at a time, to always have on hand. Because that is more efficient, because today we measure errand in terms of money and time, forgetting the value of excursion in other ways.

The AMC dealership was across the road, and though Dad only bought a new car every ten years, he would go to hang out, checking out advances in Ramblers but mostly to be around cars. I’d pester him for a nickel for the gumball machine by the door, and the salesman would usually give me one, as if there was ever a worry my father would buy a car anywhere else.

 If our current station wagon was up on the hoist for some dire malady, I knew we’d cross the street to go to the Canadian Tire. Mom would take us to the mall for shoes and winter coats; Dad was your guy to learn the difference between 3 kinds of screwdrivers, and yes, Robertson’s made more sense and did I know they were invented by a Canadian?

The Canadian Tire catalogue was a big deal in most households. We’d fight over it twice a year, whipping past pages and pages of tires to get to the seasonal stuff: games and toys at Christmas, but more importantly, flippers and air mattresses for the summer. Our tiny west end store had an even tinier section devoted to these goods, an alcove with a wooden floor, mashed full of a bit of everything. While my father was off deciding if he needed a new ball peen hammer, my sister and I would dream of getting a new inner tube that wasn’t an actual truck inner tube with the huge nozzle that stuck into our side if we jumped off the dock the wrong way.

We never got the multi-coloured pretty toys, because my father knew that truck inner tube was much sturdier. We got new flippers if there wasn’t already a pair at the cottage that would fit, because we learned our lesson the hard way when a guest lost one, gone forever down into the muck of the lake. Four decades later, I still know it’s down there, and I still remember the lecture on carelessness.

If the car was being serviced for something in between maintenance Dad performed himself and something that required some AMC expert, he’d let them handle it in the single bay at that tiny Canadian Tire. He knew the mechanics, and would hang around the garage like a mother keeping an eye on her newborn.

Job finished, you’d take your work order over to the narrow office. With an efficient twist, they’d roll your cash into the bill, tuck it into a cylinder and insert it into a magical tube where air suction would send it hurtling into outer space. I learned later it just went to the business office upstairs but outer space seemed much more interesting. Dad let me believe that, because even serious men can have moments of whimsy with children who can’t yet see over the counter.

The best part was when the tube came wooshing back, coins rattling in the plastic tube. The change and the receipt would tumble out, and Dad would hand me a nickel for the candy machine in the corner. I had no idea who the Kiwanis were, but they got a lot of my nickels in the late 1960s.

Can the Internet actually erase borders, supersede cultures, and induce time travel? If judging by how advertising now affects us, it certainly seems to appear so.

Ford India recently had to beg an international viewing audience for mercy when supposed internal, unauthorized mock-up ads were dropped onto the web. In a series of cartoons that resembled the stylings of MAD magazine (somebody put a lot of work into these), three vignettes were depicted.  Michael Schumacher driving a Ford Figo hatchback with a bound and gagged Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso and Lewis Hamilton in the hatch; Paris Hilton driving the same car with various bound and gagged Kardashians; and a smug former Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi driving one with a trio of buxom beauties, also bound and gagged.

They depictions of the women were over the top, and the resultant uproar was fast and furious as these pieces hit the Ads of the World Website.  Ford India said unnamed parties at an agency where the ads that never should have been conceived – let alone created – escaped authorization and would be dealt with. As we know now, the internet is the biggest example of being unable to unring a bell.

Depending on your viewpoint, the ads were incredibly sexist or quite clever. The thing is, they were all also a biting commentary on things we talk about often, their images depicting topics that make a veritable Venn Diagram of politics, sport and pop culture. Personally, I appreciate clever work, and encourage pushing the envelope of convention if it makes people think. These ads went too far.

If you live in Italy, Berlusconi is a noted creep, for lack of a better word, when it comes to women. He’s drawn – literally – as such in the ad, leering over the backseat flashing a Victory sign. For the cartoon Paris Hilton, it’s probably just her own self-preservation that doesn’t permit her to drive those Kardashians, who supplanted her as most vacant use of celebrity in the world, off a cliff.  The pic of the Formula One drivers remains a footnote to this topic, mostly because they still have their racing leathers on.

India is under the world spotlight for how women are treated, as violent public rapes and murders of women make their way into international headlines. Depressingly, these events are not new, but the growing pressure to change this horrific violation of basic human rights is. The same information channels that bring light to this issue also allow us glimpses into the cultural environment that percolates it – things like those ads.

In North America, we’ve had our own deep, vast history of ads that, in retrospect run the gamut from bad to tasteless to questionable. From a picture of a dinged up VW because “sooner or later, your wife will drive home” to a sultry beauty staring at the camera announcing you’re not her first, because BMW wants to sell pre-owned cars , to last year’s Superbowl Fiat –as-a-woman-you-want-to-lick-latte-froth-from, we’ve seen it all.

The problem with being able to access all advertising from most countries and most decades is context: to decide if that VW ad was insulting when it ran, I’d have to ask my now deceased mother, who was in the demographic it was aimed at. Maybe she was offended; maybe she laughed; maybe she didn’t even notice it. It would never run now, nor even be created which means we are evolving.

Old ads as object lessons are a good thing. Judging them with today’s sensibilities instead of as notes on an historical timeline jams a misplaced perspective into the conversation. Their existence is important to study, but it’s far more vital to gauge if we’re making better messages. I’m not arguing that sex doesn’t sell, just noting that sexy and sexist are two different things.

Intentions count for less when your border is as porous as the internet; most large companies, and especially car manufacturers, are cognisant of international oversight when it comes to where and how their message will land. They can’t control the past, making montages of now-outrageous ads both a history in the evolution of car marketing (no, we haven’t come a long way, at all, baby) but they do, or should, know that messaging will have a far wider reach then at any time in the past. Deny it, defend it or pull it, but be prepared for it.

Noting the top traffic sites on the internet, a friend once told me that if one man invented the internet, the next one said, “how do we use it to look at boobs?”.  While I’m sure the third one said “or cats”, it’s going to be tough to tackle sexism in advertising unless we stop pretending that we live in a world where what we say we won’t accept is so hypocritically at odds with behaviour tolerated everywhere else.

Unflattering and damaging stereotypes abound in the media about both sexes. Is it because we believe them, or because we believe we can’t change them?

A recent article in Slate took another swing at the old What Women Want fastball. Author Libby Copeland discussed “psychiatrist-turned-marketer” Clotaire Rapaille and his assertions that he can look deep into my female reptilian brain and know exactly what I want in a car: he has decided I want cup holders.

Essentially, Rapaille has worked with most of the top companies in the world to help them dial in the great combination to make people buy stuff. He bypasses the usual focus groups and round table discussions and tells these companies that we – consumers – make all our buying decisions based on hardwired impulses.

While I won’t deny that our brains are deep and wonderful mysteries that perform subconscious acrobatics every minute, I do take issue with some of Rapaille’s conclusions. I’m aware I’m somewhat alone with my raised eyebrow; Fortune 500 companies have not made me as insanely rich as they have Rapaille, so he must be onto something. Right?

Cup holders. You might think it’s because they’re functional. That we simply want cup holders because cup holders make sense. You would be wrong, in Rapaille’s world. No, we want cup holders because they remind us of coffee, and coffee reminds us of breakfast in our kitchen and feeling safe. We want cup holders so we feel safe.

Rapaille has neatly cleaved the cars he advises on into lovely, predicable stereotypes: he helped Chrysler go with the huge menacing pickups that rolled out a decade monstrous SUVs, each more brutish than the last. Rapaille has the Hummer on his resume; he has it in the win column, though your mileage may vary.

On the flip side, the man has a weird obsession with female proclivities, as he sees them. He once described minivans as wombs. Women love them because they are wombs. In fact, he declared that, “stand a minivan on its rear bumper and it has the silhouette of a pregnant woman in a floor length dress.” I think it has the silhouette of a desperate call to the CAA, but I digress. He also had a hand in the PT Cruiser. Womb? Hearse? Perhaps we should stand it on its rear bumper for a better understanding.  Nope. Now it just resembles a guy with a beer belly in a La-A-Boy recliner.

Back in 1984, I had one of the first Chrysler Mini Ram Vans. It had no cup holders, and I wanted them. Not to feel safe, but to have somewhere to put my cup. You could buy these cheesy aftermarket cup holders that clipped to the window frame, and it wasn’t long before manufacturers clued in and cup holders started appearing.

I borrowed a friend’s older Honda CRV the other day, and it had no cup holders in the back. Again, Rapaille was right that I would have liked them, though not for safety, just to prevent two teenage boys from kicking over their Cokes.

I have driven vehicles that had so many cup holders in so many strange places, I wondered if Clotaire Rapaille had been set loose in the design studio. I understand one cup holder per seat; I do not understand multiple cup holders in rear quarters of vehicles where there are no seats.

One of the best carmakers in the world – Porsche – makes hands down the worst cup holders. On their sports cars, you have to press the hidden strip that will fold down to reveal two further recessed buttons. Upon pressing them, a spindly arm extends, into which you carefully jam your coffee and then worry the whole time. It looks like ET is holding your cup. Their Cayenne grudgingly offers up a cup holder in the correct spot, but it has flexing tabs that grab the cup to hold it in place. Firmly. So firmly, you can only get the cup in there in the first place by tipping it half way over and jamming it in. You are permitted to have half a cup of coffee in a Porsche. Actually, the message is that Porsche engineers do not want you drinking in their cars, period.

I’m driving a Ford Fusion Hybrid right now, which has perfectly lovely cup holders, and just the right number. More importantly, it has a great spot beneath the dash where I can safely stash a camera or better yet, my purse. Now that, Mr. Rapaille, is what women want; somewhere to put our purse. Or as you no doubt call it, a womb on a strap.

Nearly a decade ago, a PBS commentator challenged Rapaille’s devotion to answering to the reptilian part of the consumer’s brain, “reducing us to our most primal impulses”,  to the exclusion of all other factors  including environmental ones and matters of common sense. The stubborn reply he got was that where consumers were concerned, it was only “give me what I want”.

Perhaps. But as Bob Dylan reminds us, the times are indeed a-changin’, and I’d gladly hand over some of the bells and whistles from last week’s Land Rover to hang onto the terrific fuel efficiency of this Fusion.

Sometimes a cup holder is just a cup holder.

With the state of Florida recently getting all snarky and announcing as of this January  they would require foreigners to have an International Driving Permit when driving in their state, Canucks were understandably upset. Some even exhaled loudly and used the word, “darn”.

Actually, Florida was wrong, and the law has been repealed. The IDP is like a passport for the road. In Canada, you take your valid driver’s licence to a local CAA office, hand over 25 bucks and a passport photo, and get an incredibly unofficial-looking document that says you hold a Canadian licence. The idea is that when travelling in a foreign country, it is a recognizable world standard (the United Nations made everyone vote on it in 1949) for drivers. They expire after one year; mine was filled out with a ballpoint pen.

The IDP is essentially pages of translations and a list of countries where it is accepted. About 70 countries have opted out of requiring visitors to need one; they recognize your original licence as valid in their country. Yes, the U.S. and Canada have always had such an agreement. No, nobody bothered to tell Florida.

If you travel in many countries with the intention of driving in them , as my colleagues and I do,  you would think we’d be well versed in this form of identification. Not really. My IDP is dated 2007, and I was asked exactly once – on a press trip to Argentina – to acquire one. That annual expiration is a pain.

A recent press trip held in Spain by Mercedes drove home the lesson. Spain isn’t one of those 70 countries, and reportedly 18 U.S. journalists were detained for a couple of hours by Spanish police, not one of them holding an IDP. Worse still, the 6 Mercedes – Benz E63 AMGs (100K a pop) they were driving were also impounded. Journalists were sprung that afternoon; not so the cars. I’d point and laugh, but I’ve driven in Spain. With Mercedes. Without an IDP. Most of us can expect to see the IDP requirement start appearing on our ‘what to pack’ lists again, I’m sure.

These examples point out something we overlook to our detriment: driving in other countries isn’t the same as driving at home. We give great forethought and consideration to what the temperature will be and whether breakfast is included at the hotel, but often rules of the road get short shrift.

There are admittedly warnings for countries that are less likely to be on your top ten list: visitors driving in Afghanistan are warned the country has 5 to 7 million landmines throughout the countryside and rural roads. But travellers to more popular destinations face figurative landmines of their own. Things like many popular countries having rental fleets that overwhelmingly have standard transmissions; if you haven’t reserved your automatic by now for the coming summer in most European or South American countries, good luck. You may have checked which side of the road you’ll be driving on, but add in the ballet of shifting with your left hand.

Until 2003, you couldn’t turn right on a red light in Quebec, but now you can, except on the Island of Montreal, or except if there is a sign prohibiting it. Got that? The right-on-red thing should be checked before you leave home – in New York City it’s a no-no, but in other major centres it’s fine. Old driving habits die hard, and if you’re also driving a strange vehicle in a new place you will be processing even more information than usual.

In Canada, you may be used to dining out, maybe having a glass of wine and heading home. I wouldn’t bother doing that if you’re driving in The Czech Republic, Hungary, Russia, Nepal or Romania. They have zero tolerance laws on alcohol, and the accepted blood alcohol level is a pretty non-debatable 0.0%. Sweden, Norway, Poland, and Estonia are willing to bend all the way to 0.02%; Sweden takes the issue so seriously, a conviction can land you in jail for 6 months. They don’t want you or anyone else dying on their roads; remember, they invented Volvos.

If these laws are too uptight for you, you can always stick to places like Ethiopia or Indonesia or the Congo, where there is no limit. Come to think of it, even if you’re not the driver, that’s good information to have. Stateside, there are still 7 American states that allow you to have a traveller – an open container of alcohol in the car. Rhode Island, Delaware, Virginia, West Virginia, Missouri, Mississippi and Arkansas all permit opened booze, though only Mississippi allows the driver to partake as he or she drives. Why? Because the state feels confident that the driver can monitor their inebriation to keep it under the acceptable 0.08% BAC. Louisiana has lots of daiquiri drive thrus – they skirt the open container law by taping over the hole where the straw goes. Verily, the South shall rise again.

While it’s a (stubborn) myth that drinking and driving in El Salvador will get you shot by a firing squad on the side of the road, it’s still a good reminder to check ahead with reliable sources.

Common sense: don’t leave home without it.

The usual joke about Canada is that we have two seasons: winter and construction. This year, we can probably add a third: Pothole. Caused by the first and predicating the second, if this third season seems particularly bad this year, it’s because it is.

Last year’s relatively mild winter lulled us; this year, according to Peter Noehammer, Director of Transportation Services for the City of Toronto, the alternating freezing and thawing, paired with all the snow and water had made for a cratered mess.

“Melt and water seeps into cracks and weak spots and asphalt is forced out,” he reports. “Frost causes upheaval, and then you’re below the surface of the asphalt. That’s the evolution of a pothole.”

While major arteries are patrolled constantly by city maintenance work crews, they rely on citizens to report problems on those roads less travelled. You can call 311 or use a mobile app in Toronto to call in a pothole, and you can also report online. While the Gardner Expressway and the Don Valley Parkway are city maintained, major routes like the 401 and the QEW fall under provincial jurisdiction.

There are laws and standards that the city must adhere to in repairing the streets before they destroy your car. Using a rating system of one to five, dependant on classification of road, volume and speed limit, potholes are assessed and addressed within a mandated time frame. Noehammer currently has about 40 – 45 crews (about 100 workers) working extended hours to tackle the problem. Generally, a repair will take place within three to five days; with those heavy volume roads getting the most – and the most immediate – attention.

A lot can happen in that three to five days, I suggest to Noehammer. How about a warning? Crews can do a quick fix with a cold mix of asphalt for a temporary repair, or at least put up a barrier or cone as a warning for motorists until a more permanent solution has been done.

And speaking of destroying your car, just how bad can it be? A midday call to Jim Clarke at Ardent Automotive in Burlington is perfect timing. “I have my brother-in-law’s car in here right now. He hit a pothole at least 10 other people have hit on King Road, and it tore a gash in his tire.” That torn tire meant no limping to the mechanics; the spare had to go on immediately, and now a new tire.

You’ve probably experienced that jaw snapping bang when you hit a pothole. There is that moment much like after you’ve take a fall when you gingerly try to ascertain if anything is broken. Potholes can and do appear overnight, and driving unfamiliar routes can have you slamming full force into traps locals are expertly skirting.

How bad can it be? If you’re lucky, and your speed was low, you might come away with a sigh of relief. But double check your alignment, and listen and feel for noise and indications of front end damage. Clarke says the most common problems are going to be ball joints, bent control arms, torn tires and damaged rims. All but the rims are vital to the safety of your vehicle, and your day just got rescheduled.

How expensive can it get? Depending on what you drive, an alignment might run you a hundred dollars, a tire twice that, but as Clarke notes, “we had a guy with a 2008 Sierra with specialty rims – a thousand bucks to replace one rim.” And if you take a deep pothole at a decent speed, that tire can blow out hard enough that you end up with fender damage, as well. While vehicles with higher clearance will have some defense against a pothole, your speed when you hit it can render that advantage moot.

So. Who pays? City websites will lay out the official route to making a claim against the city. You can parse your own car insurance’s fine print to see what might be covered. You will need detailed notes about when/what/where and photos – especially in this day of cameras in every device – are advisable. For a complaint to the city, you must report within ten dates from the event, and you can do it online or by mail.

What are the odds you’ll see some bucks for your bang? Slim to none. While Noehammer notes that the city will “vigorously defend claims”, the city’s own website makes it even clearer: “It’s important to know that the majority of property damage claims made against the City of Toronto are denied as City divisions regularly meet or exceed standard service levels.”

Best advice? Slow down. And now is probably the best time to respect the space you should be leaving between you and the car ahead: it may not seem very chivalrous to watch someone else find the pothole for you, but if you’ve given yourself that cushion, you can save yourself a lot of inconvenience, and perhaps a lot of money.

As the Canadian International Auto Show (CIAS) folds up its tent for another year, I’d like to offer up some suggestions as one who engaged the shiny festival of metal from both sides: as a coddled member of the media,  and as a member of the paying public. Two important issues emerged.

First, CIAS, you need a better venue. No two ways about it. There is more sprawl in this show than there is in any suburb. The North building and the South building are connected by tunnels and funnels that bring to mind those complicated hamster cages my kids always wanted. Exhibits on multiple levels mean many get overlooked.

Traipsing between buildings on media day can be an isolating feeling.  It’s exhausting, but that’s what work is. When the public fills the halls, it brings to mind only a cattle auction. People aren’t paying to work. Crowds pushing down a chute to get on an escalator, then another escalator, then through some switchbacks that bring to mind a Land Rover ad, and on to yet more escalators.

I spoke with Joel Cohen, last year’s president of the CIAS. He admits that the event, the largest consumer show in Canada, is a victim of its own success. “The popularity of the show is disproportional to the facility we’re using,” he says. The event is facing problems that mirror those Toronto as a city itself is facing: infrastructure unable to keep pace with growth.

The CIAS isn’t just ten days of exhibits. The event is a nucleus for trade events and meetings that require the hotels, restaurants and transit this site provides. There are other venues; the show used to be held at Exhibition Place, and Cohen notes that site, and the defunct Ontario Place, both could show promise depending on decisions that will be made about their future uses.

With the show continuing to grow, organizers now seek effective ways to manage traffic. This includes encouraging attendees to come during non-peak hours and to make use of the quieter South entrance. He points out there is a shuttle service, but admits the connection between the two buildings is tough during busy times, especially for anyone with mobility issues or hauling strollers or small children.

Cohen puts a number on the importance of the auto show to the area industry. “80,000 new cars sales in the following 12 months are influenced by what people see at the show. Most people who attend are interested in buying,” he notes. Which means manufacturers are elbowing for the best space, and brings us to the second issue.

Media Day at an auto show should be a preview. It’s a chance for media people to give you, the public, advance notification of interesting technologies, what to look for, and the best way to take in the show. It’s not about us, the media, or at least it shouldn’t be. It’s nice to have a free cappuccino, but it can be a long day and coffee is more fuel than palm fronds.

We’re drawn to a lot of the same things you are: the high tech concept cars, marvels of engineering and stunning peeks into what the future holds for the brands that spend millions producing a single car. Without these concepts and the halo cars – think Viper or Stingray – much of the show would resemble automotive showrooms you could visit for free. For $22, plus all the getting there, I think you should be able to see whatever we coffee swilling journos have been raving about.

A funny thing happened between Media Day and the public days of the recent Canadian International Auto Show. A couple of those concept cars disappeared into the ether. How do I know? I was back there the following Monday, and couldn’t find them anywhere.

Car season is hectic, and it is the very one-of-a-kindness of these vehicles that makes them in heavy demand around the world. I get it. But if we tell you they’re going to be there, they should be there. If they are merely being displayed for media, that should be clear. And quite frankly, most of the media have been on the car circuit since early January and we’ve already seen them. This isn’t about us. This is about you.

If this show is for the public, the public deserve more consideration. If this show is for the public, then concept cars shouldn’t be spirited away to the next global car show before the doors are flung wide on opening day. The Nissan Resonance was gone after the first weekend, and the Cadillac ELR coupe was gone before media day was even over.

There’s a little bait and switch going on, and that’s not cool.