Undermining the cool

I dig the Range Rover. It's like a limo for the suave. Although the total time I've spent behind the wheel of the RRs is likely less than a couple hours, the capabilities on dry pavement and in snow have me thoroughly impressed. Save for the abhorrent gas mileage, cost of entry, plummeting depreciation, dismal service record, constant change in ownership, and dismal ride quality compared to its German cousin, it is the perfect SUV.

I've spent the last couple of years thinking about the sociology of driving brands. The message and feel from the world brands ranges from 'I'm important' to 'go away' to 'me, too.' I always loved driving my bimmers until I'd see someone behind a roundel pull an offensively arrogant move. Sad thing was, these moves were not only on the freeway, they often included a snotty look as someone in a 650Ci pulled into that parking space first and jeered at the Camry's less-important priority when parking. That's baggage the MINI doesn't seem to have. Boy, we just wave at everybody. (I've even paid a stranger's toll, just like the Book of Motoring instructs.)

So I had to laugh when I followed this guy on my way to work today. I'm still scratching my head to figure the benefit of having a vanity plate that documents the owner's lack of creativity. Range Rover? No kidding.



If you've got to use a vanity plate, use it to say something about life, your personality, or the adventure you're going to have. (E.g. Roving, Unibody, Mounting, and so on.) Don't bother saying, "This is a Range Rover." I can tell that already. The problem with stating the uninteresting is that it inspires a game of grapevine where the resulting message is, "I'm an a**."