Bob Wire Has a Point (It's Under His Cowboy Hat)

Eavesdropping On the Big Three CEOs’ Road Trip

By Bob Wire, 12-03-08

	Big Three CEOs' road trip to Washington. Hilarity ensues.

After having their asses handed to them by their would-be Congressional benefactors for taking corporate jets to Washington in order to plead for a federal handout to save their floundering auto companies, the Big Three CEO’s prudently decided on alternate transportation for their second run at a bailout.

Ford boss Alan Mulally, General Motors’ CEO Rick Wagoner and Chrysler head cheese Bob Nardelli made widely publicized decisions to drive to Washington from Detroit this time around. Publicity stunt or effective symbolism? That’s for the lawmakers to decide when the automakers come a-knockin’ at Aunt Nancy’s Soup Kitchen on Wednesday.

It’s easy enough to find the details of their financial bailout and loan requests elsewhere, but here we are proud to present a partial account of the ten-hour road trip, collected from hidden microphones aboard the Ford Escape hybrid in which the three CEOs carpooled to Washington.

~~~X~~~~~~X~~~~~~X~~~

[Sound of radio station changing every two seconds.]

Nardelli: [riding shotgun] Damn, Mulally, why don’t you just pick a station and be done with it? I’m trying to concentrate here.

Mulally: [driving] What, Sudoku on your laptop? Yeah, I guess that would be a challenge for the genius who came up with the Dodge Caliber. Shee-it, Nardelli, I know a Neon when I see one. Talk about lipstick on a pig…

Nardelli: [punches ‘seek’ button on radio] Hey, we’re just giving the American driver what he wants, man. You trying to tell me you’re not cranking out disposable cars over there at Ford? Give me a lunch break. Ooh! ‘Band of Gold.’ I love this song.

Mulally: [punches ‘seek’ button on radio] That figures. You ever listen to anything that was recorded after 1975, pinhead? Hey! [frantically punching ‘seek’ button on radio] Thanks, asshole, you busted the goddamn radio. Now we’re stuck with the AM Gold station. Great.

Wagoner: [from back seat] Hey, Alan, can you adjust the fader? I can’t hear a thing back here. The road noise is louder than hell. You guys at Ford ever hear of undercoating?

Mulally: Sorry, Rick, I don’t know how to find the fader on this thing. Too complicated. Don’t tell me you’re into this oldies crap too. Don’t you guys ever listen to the Kings of Leon? My Morning Jacket?

Nardelli: Those sound more like chick flicks than band names. Look, why don’t you pull off at that Conoco up there. I gotta take a squeege.

Mulally: Why don’t you just use the ashtray, needle dick? Haw!

Nardelli: What ashtray?

Mulally: Oh, that’s right. We had to leave off the ashtrays in this thing to make room for two more cupholders.

Wagoner: Yeah, Alan, what’s with all the cupholders in this Escape? There’s room for five passengers, but there’s, like, nine cupholders.

Mulally: Oh, excuse ME for trying to provide some creature comforts, Mr. Dodge-Ramcharger-Obstacle-Course. Boy, THAT commercial was real helpful. We’re supposed to try and convince Congress that we can get with the program to make fuel-efficient vehicles, and you guys roll out this overblown dick-measuring contest. Jesus. [Pulls off freeway, parks in front of convenience store.]

Nardelli: I’m going inside. You guys want anything?

Wagoner: Just get me a Red Bull and some paté.

Mulally: Slim Jim and a bottle of Pelligrino.

Nardelli: How about kicking in, guys? I’m only making a dollar a year now.

Wagoner: Yeah, me too.

Mulally: Me too. [Hands Nardelli an Amex corporate card] Here. I don’t think this one’s maxed out yet.

[Fifteen minutes later they are back on the road. Nardelli and Mulally get into an argument over Nardelli’s request to drive for the second leg. Mulally rebuffs him and banishes him to the back seat. Wagoner crawls forward into the shotgun position.]

Wagoner: [fiddling with radio, wrinkles nose] What’s that smell?

Nardelli: [from back seat] Sorry, fellas. Must have been that Beluga omelet I had at Ritz-Carlton this morning.

Mulally: [rolling down all four windows] Oh, my GOD! Jesus, Bob, I think something crawled up your ass and DIED! Oh, MAN! You know, it’s not just the smell, it’s the burning of my EYES! [frantically rubbing at eyes with fists.]

Nardelli: Ha, ha, very funny, Alan. You know what’s funny? 1971 Pinto.

Mullaly: Not as funny as the K-car. K for Krapola.

Nardelli: Edsel.

Wagoner: Pacer.

Nardelli: Hey, man, that’s not fair. The Pacer was AMC before we bought them.

Wagoner: Oh, you mean like the way you bought Jeep and ruined it? That’s like when Dave Navarro joined the Chili Peppers for that one album. ‘One Hot Minute.’ Stinkerooni. Stunk worse than that fart.

[Mulally gives surreptitious admiring glance to Wagoner. These were very sensitive microphones.]

Mulally: [to Wagoner] Oh, you want some o’ this? Vega.

Wagoner: Sebring.

Nardelli: Nova. “No go” in Spanish. Nice research.

Wagoner: [to Mulally] Granada.

Mulally: LeBaron.

Nardelli: Corvair.

Wagoner and Mulally: [singing in unison] Volaaaaaaaré! Whoa-oh-oh-OHHH!

Nardelli: ALRIGHT! You WIN. [Sits up on edge of back seat, leans forward between the other two men.] Look, boys, we’re in deep shit here, and we have to get our story straight before we go to that Congressional hearing tomorrow. You can bet your overfed butts that the CEO’s of Toyota and Honda are flying around right now in their Gulfstreams, eating sushi and Kobe steaks. I, for one, don’t want to have to go back home and tell my kids that they’re each getting only one helicopter for Christmas this year. Look, we’ve got the UAW breathing down our necks to save their jobs, but Congress is going to insist on a bunch of retraining and retooling so we can start making cars that will stand up to the Japanese products. We have got to get a piece of this federal pie! What are we going to do? What the hell are we going to say?

[Silence, broken by the occasional clearing of a throat. More silence. Eventually, the radio is turned up. As a song comes on, all three men begin to sing loudly.]

“Ooh ooh, child, things are gonna get easierrrrr…Oooh ooh child, things’ll get briiiiighter…”

[Bookmark NewWest.net/BobWire right now so you’ll have a safe refuge from the scary ol’ news.]

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