The B is for Bullshit

Today I spent a fair amount of time at a BMW dealership and repair outfit in Santa Monica. I already had a strong suspicion that luxury cars are fucking bullshit and today was a strong vote of confidence in that resolution. I mean, if you are paying thousands and thousands of extra dollars for a fancy car, shouldn't the fancy-car makers strive to provide you with a fancy experience? I mean, obviously, instead of just purporting to provide you with a fancy experience. I don't need a flat screen and the most insane coffee machine in the world in the waiting room. I'd far rather have someone give me a straight answer and try and help me when I say things like, "I need to leave here with this car in the next ten minutes or I will lose my job." There's this cliche that people in the film business are flaky, but here's the thing: they get stuff done and they get it done quickly and correctly. Movie-making may not be the most honorable occupation in the world, but it beats overpriced incompetence and manufactured obselesence.