Word: volkswagens
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Sick as it all may sound, West Germany's autoeroticism does have some beneficial side effects. From lowly Volkswagen to mighty Opel Admiral, there are more cars (8,700,000) in West Germany than in any other nation of the world except the U.S. Some auto executives deplore "silly sentimentality that results in people keeping a car for ten years," yet it seems to put no ceiling on sales. Last year Daimler-Benz, the manufacturer of Mercedes, sold a record $1.2 billion worth of cars and trucks -a 5.9% increase over the previous year-and is doing even better...
Except for a sideswipe by Industry Critic Ralph Nader that "it is hard to find a more dangerous car than the Volkswagen," foreign-made autos generally escaped the critical blasts about safety recently directed at Detroit. Last week Volkswagen, which had vigorously denied Nader's charge, became the first foreign automaker to join Detroit in admitting to a recall campaign...
...worldwide owners of the familiar Beetle and sporty Karmann-Ghia, including 175,000 in the U.S., went registered letters recalling models produced between last Aug. 1 and mid-January. During that time, Volkswagen switched over to new, permanently lubricated ball joints that connect the front wheels to the suspension system and allow them to turn. Unfortunately, the plastic sealing rings designed to keep the lubricant in and moisture out were not up to the task, giving the steering and suspension assembly the mechanical equivalent of an arthritic knee. Though no accidents were reported, corrosion in the ball joints could lead...
...just entered this country, could hardly speak English, had already spent five years surviving a war, and, above all, after ten years could finally attend a decent school. No, on reading "The President of the U.S. etc. ..." I did not become furious, nor did I rocket my Volkswagen around the block. The affluent society had not yet given me a chance...
...geology degree at California State College at Los Angeles, blew up. He crushed the letter into a ball, jammed it into his pocket and stamped out of the house. His mother shouted after him, "Be careful, Gary! Don't do anything rash." Furious, he climbed into his Volkswagen, rocketed the little car around the block a couple of times until he had calmed down slightly, then roared off to his draft board office to spill his spleen. "I was upset," he recalls. "And mad. And depressed...