Having watched him pretty carefully as president of the Boeing Co.’s Commercial Airplane Division, I’m still watching Alan Mulally as chief executive officer of Ford.
In the spirit of full disclosure, I should say I have direct reasons for watching Mulally and for hoping for his success. I own a few shares of Ford stock and I drive a 1997 Ford Ranger pickup.
I’ve held the stock for years, even though my instincts have screamed “Sell!” several times during that period. I hung on to the shares because they were the first I ever owned.
Not a good reason. I should have sold them.
I’ve been hanging on to my truck, too, even though I’ve had the same impulses to sell it over the years. I can be that way. I’ll buy something and wring the last dime out of it before I get rid of it.
I remember keeping my black-and-white television about 10 years longer than any of my friends. It was a simple decision. There was nothing wrong with it. I wasn’t about to replace it until the picture dropped dead of old age.
But I want Alan to know that I’ve kept my truck because I’m cheap, not because I’m happy. It falls far short of being a lemon, but it has had a long string of irritating problems.
Shortly after I’d gone past the warranty, the truck started giving me all sorts of weird messages, from check engine to door ajar. One was a computer malfunction. The other was a problem with the door sensors.
Lately, my windshield wipers are starting to go. I’ve lost a couple of the intermittent settings, so it’s pretty much like wipers used to be in the old days, a medium speed and a fast one.
I didn’t mention the Bridgestone tire recall. That was in my favor, since I had 89,000 miles on them when they were replaced for free. But it’s still kind of scary.
The bottom line is that my truck has had minor things go wrong since shortly after about 36,000 miles. My brother has the same truck. Through a sick twist of fate, he purchased it used a short time before Consumer Reports listed the 1997 Ranger as the used truck not to buy because it was laden with failing parts.
Turns out I wasn’t alone. Consumer Reports was right. My brother and I have had the exact same things go wrong in almost the same order.
Last weekend, my nephew asked me if my cab was leaking. He’d just pulled my brother’s rear window and smeared on a bunch of silicone sealant before popping it back in.
Mine hasn’t leaked yet, but at least now I have something to look forward to. And a relative who can fix it.
My message to Alan: If you want to fix your stock, fix your trucks. There’s no excuse for loading them up with parts that don’t work or don’t last.
Item deux
Did you catch the stir over Seattle’s new tourism slogan: Metronatural?
Painted all over the Space Needle, it’s about as confusing as the old state slogan, “Say WA,” which thankfully has died a quick death.
Now we have Metronatural, which is of the same ilk – the sort of thing ad types think is hip and cool and real people can’t figure out.
OK, maybe it’s not so hard to figure out. Seattle is a metropolitan area with a lot of natural beauty. But Metronatural just sounds goofy. And it makes me think of the word “metrosexual” before I think of metropolitan area and nature.
Snohomish County’s slogan – “Close to everything. Far from ordinary.” – makes infinitely more sense to me. We are close to Puget Sound, the ocean and the Cascade Range in a pretty special area.
Short, simple and understandable.
Seattleites have long enjoyed making fun of Everett because its unsophisticated “milltown” roots.
As it relates to tourism slogans, I have this to say to Seattle: Back at ya.
Mike Benbow: 425-339-3459; benbow@heraldnet.com.
Talk to us
> Give us your news tips.
> Send us a letter to the editor.
> More Herald contact information.
