Saturday, December 12, 2009

Lift question answered: The decider has decided


So the answer is thus: a 2001-2004 Tacoma 4-door, lifted 6 inches.

Wow, not what you were expecting, right? What went wrong? WTF, right? Let me explain how we arrived here:

We got out of the 4Runner because as it stood, it was barely big enough for us all, what with 2 full-sized people, a 70lb Labrador, and a 35lb mutt. Then it happened that we found 2 labrador puppies — brothers no less! — wondering the street, pretty much holding up a “pweez adopt us mr. Bob” sign, right? Well these two pups grow up to be 90lbs each. Where the 4Runner could barely stand 110lbs of dog, it was straining under the weight of 300lbs of dog. 

Not only that, but we go out and the dogs get wet. The 4Runner was starting to stank a little, with all that carpet & insulation holding the water in and gettin’ all musty on us; we needed to give them their own compartment, that was bigger, and could be hosed down. A 4-door Tacoma seemed like a good choice.

So then why didn’t we get an older one to begin with? Well, here’s the real story then, huh? Because The Girl didn’t like the way they looked. No, in a way I’m dead serious. I actually prefer the old ones to the new ones, but they were still pricey two years ago. I didn’t want to buy anything pre-2002, and the difference in cost between a used Tacoma & a brand-new one was literally pennies on the dollar. It didn’t make cents (har har) to spend the dough on a truck with ‘questionable’ mileage when we could get a newbie and break it in ourselves for just a few grand more. And since The Girl preferred the new ones, there was little argument against the idea. And it seemed that a lot of people were talking up the new ones, they DID have bigger motors, some new-fangled off-road options that sounded really cool, and hell I hear that the 2010 models actually give you head on road trips (I lie).

So. I had no plans to lift the truck, I was familiar with my old 4Runner, and obviously since the new model wore the same size shoes and was better, I’d have no issues, right? Well recently I got curious: was it really better? I had decided some time ago that indeed, I DID want to lift the truck and get us some better obstacle clearance. But why in the new truck but not in the old 4Runner? I began to look at the issue. Old Tacomas — built on the 4Runner frame and pretty damned identical — seemed to have me on the ground clearance front quite easily, and I am running 1.5” taller tires than stock to begin with. At least, that’s how it seemed. And then instead of observing, I decided to test. I carried around measuring tools, and when I’d find a Tacoma 4-door that was bone-stock, I’d measure. Sure enough, by as much as 2 inches, they had me. And keep in mind, I’ve got ¾” of extra ground clearance because of the larger tires! 

So. All this talk of 3” or 6” lifts on the 2nd gen Tacomas, right? Which way to go? Well it turns out a 3” lift on a 2nd gen is damned near the ground clearance equivalent of the 1st gen BONE STOCK. I’d have to go 6” to even compete with the ground clearance of the 1st gens. And you know what? That’d only gain me about ½” over a 1st gen with a 3” lift!

So then the mice are turning full-speed ahead here. I don’t want to pour money into the wrong thing. And I start fondly recalling my 4Runner. I miss it. It was not as powerful as the new truck, but it was more nimble, lighter, and taller apparently. I felt like I could go places in it on worse tires than I can in the new one with better tread. And maybe that’s really true after all. It’s lighter by a few hundred pounds at least, taller, and more handsomer — trust me being handsome helps off-road, any expert can corroborate.

I didn’t want to just take my own word on the matter of which would be better, so I decided to post the question online. Turns out that it’s not a question many have bothered to ask. And not just that, but the measurements that matter, no one had taken them. I posed the question to the internets, and was met with “dude totally get a 1978 toyota solid-axle, it’s the bomb ha ha” and “ the new ones are the best lol I got one and lifted it 3” and I can do anything that anyone else can do lol dude.”

Turns out, the internet is full of stupid people who like to congratulate themselves, and possibly can’t read. No point trying to get advice from the looney bin I decide, I will go and ask some people that actually do the sh!t, insteasd of just taking poser pictures of their trucks next to a construction site rock pile: the local off-road shop.

The conversation starts out confusing enough: “I have a 2009 Tacoma double cab —” 

“good truck.” 

“— thanks. Anyway, I want to build a moderate expedition rig, I need something with a good amount of space so I have confined my choices to what I have, and the 1st gen 4-door model. Which is a better starting point for that?”

“If I were building out a Tacoma for an off-road rig, I’d go with the 1st gen, no doubt.”

“I thought you said my truck was… never mind

We talked about it some, and it came to pass that we understood that the new trucks are good for some things, but when you start doing any moderate modding, their weaknesses shine through. Good on-road multi-purpose trucks if you don’t plan on doing anything to them, but if you want to get equipped, best to start with a different base: it’s predecessor.

Which is pretty much the conclusion I had come to. I just needed someone with knowledge to verify that fact for me, assure me that I was on the right path.

That path now consists of selling the Tundra (eventually), letting The Girl inherit the newer, fresher vehicle, and equipping myself with all the tool I need to conquer all terrains with family in tow: a 1st gen Tacoma double cab TRD.

Friday, December 4, 2009

Movie: Duplicity


Duplicity is a movie that lives up to its name, I guess. I both liked portions of it, and quite disliked other aspects of the film. A lot of today’s flicks are very devoid of any sort of compelling or interesting storytelling. Not that the overall ideas are bad, it’s just that they’re connected in practice very awfully, making logical jumps that are less than the name implies, being illogical at best and mind-numbingly insulting at worst. 

It didn’t suffer that fate, the story starts out interesting, and does something that I haven’t seen done well in a long while: build & maintain suspense. I was suspensed. Is that a word? Is now. Suspensed.

OK so what was wrong with the movie? Two things. First and most glaringly, they cast Julia Roberts as the sexy, smart, sassy leading woman. And look, I got nothing against the Pretty Woman, but let’s be real here: that was 20 years ago and she was already into her prime at that point, OK? It really was this elephant in the room the whole movie, me & The Girl looking at the screen, watching Clive Owen stare longingly into her eyes like she was Marissa Miller in a Fruit Roll-Up bikini or something, then WE look at each other, checking the screen again to make sure it wasn’t a joke, and then simultaneously saying “eewwwww…”

Because she looked like a grandma. She looked, actually, like a pregnant grandma, at about 4 months in. Clive Owen’s a handsome middle-aged man, and they’ve got him totally doe-eyed over some chubby geriatric, and honestly? It’s kind of gross. Bothered us the whole way through the film, and made me dread ever getting as old as Julia Roberts. 

I know you don’t believe me, right? I mean she was PRETTY WOMAN FOR CRIST’S SAKE, MAN! WHAT ARE YOU SMOKING YOUNG ‘BOB?!?!?! Well to that I say, watch the film for yourself. You too will throw up a little in your mouth at the sight, and owe me $20. That’s right, I just placed that bet.

Second ‘problem’ I had with the film was the lack of ending. Sort of. They DO conclude it rather well, it’s not a bad ending per se, it’s just that it almost posed more questions that it answered, and I am not one to like being left in suspense; I like conclusions that answer all my questions. I don’t want to give it away to anyone that hasn’t seen it yet (remember the bet!), so I won’t go into detail. I will only say that they answer a question that is formed in your mind 5 minutes before the film ends, then they ask another question shortly afterwards, that gets you thinking “yeah, what about that?” and then they don’t even bother acknowledging said question was asked. They just roll credits.

Would I recommend the movie? Depends. How good is your eyesight? How big is the TV? Is it HD? Because I think there’s a scale here. If your’e eyesight’s good and it’s on a big HDTV, then maybe you should avoid it, and the recommendation actually grows in inverse quantities to the quality of the image, in this regard. As far as story, if you can hold your thumb up and cover up Julia when she’s on screen, then the story’s a winner almost until the credits roll, and yeah I’d recommend it with no further qualifications (other than the thumb thing).

Of course then again, there is that bet; perhaps I should be recommending it no matter what. $20 bills in DROVES, I tell you. Just email them to me.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

The Afghanistan game plan: Shhhh, don't tell 'em

The problem with today’s war plans is that we tend to think that the opponents don’t have TV or something. Stupid. It’s not even really TV that’s the problem, it’s the idea that we can TELL EVERYONE what our plans are, and yet expect the opponents in battle to act as though they have no idea what we’re about to do.

Because winning at anything in life against someone else requires more than just the talents of the trade; you have to outwit your opponent as well. This is why in basketball the ‘pump fake’ is a weapon of choice, and why in football the ‘juke’ is effective — you’re not just beating your adversaries with the mechanics of the game, you’re f*cking with their minds to give yourself the advantage. War is the same. D-Day, anyone?

The whole concept of D-day was misdirection. The allies didn’t just send a memo to the Axis powers, saying “hey, 3 o’clock, behind the monkey bars. Be there,” and then everyone and their aunt showed up for a huge brawl. Quite the opposite, right? They sent out metric f*ck-tons of misinformation, that they were going to attack their battleship, that the french were coming, that the dog ate their homework, whatever they had to send to convince Germany that NO SUCH ATTACK ON THEIR OWN BEACHHEAD WAS COMING. Really, what would have been the outcome of that battle had Germany known in advance?

I like Obama for the most part. I don’t agree with everything he says & does, but I know I definitely disagree with his detractors (birthers? Just another word for moron. Rush Limbaugh? Just another word for… yeah OK, moron). But here’s one of those things, you’re trying to please everyone, and by doing so you doom the mission. If you tell me “Hey ‘bob, I’m going to fight you on the playground at 3pm, for two minutes, and after the 1st minutes all my friends will go home, and then I’m going to turn my back on you, assume I won, and walk away,” then you know what I’ll do? Hide all MY friends around the corner until 3:01, take the beating for a minute or two, and then have you strung up and quartered, and send the pieces the feed village people. Sorry, capitalization was wrong, I meant Village People. Yeah, those guys. Tough finding work in this economy, man, I’m just looking out.

This is the same sort of mistake GWB made. It made sense when he did it, because he’s an actual moron, but to see someone with a legitimate education and an IQ to match?

Head-scratchingly dumb.

Some things, you do just need to keep secret.