I usually set these up so that they are published on the first day of the even numbered months, but I missed this time because I was so busy doing nothing, that I forgot or as the medical professionals call it, “A senior moment.”

Earn Your Stripes

– Andy Schank

Let’s face it. There are not many cars in production today that can wear big fat racing stripes without looking foolish. The Miata just happens to be one of the exceptions. Intelligently designed stripes make the car look longer, lower, and wider, and accentuate fine details such as the power bulge in the hood and the tapering, sharklike mouth.

Most of the racing stripes I’ve seen on the Miata look pretty good. Still, in my opinion the best design by far is the factory stripe that was available with the R-Model; those flared-out contrasting bands that taper at the ends and flare to embrace the cockpit. No surprise that these stripes came out so well, since they were designed by Irvine’s own Mark Jordan, one of the original Miata stylists and lead designer of the slinky MX6.

Though relatively few dealers know it, the R-Model stripe kit is still available as a factory part. Our local parts guy was so befuddled by the concept, however, that we finally asked Moss Motors to find one for us, which they did. Officially this package is called the “Miata Competition Graphics Kit,” and the cost is about $250. It’s made of the same fairly thick Mylar that you find in race-car graphics, and once it’s installed properly you can pretty much call it permanent. It won’t wash or peel off without a tremendous amount of effort.

The kit comes in two separate tubes, one for the front and one for the rear. Individual pieces aren’t available, however: In other words, don’t screw up the installation. Mazda’s instructions spell out point blank that the kit comes out best when “…installed by a professional experienced with graphics.” Well, I have some experience putting on race decals and plenty with paint and masking tape. How hard could it be?

Live and learn, right?

1) It’s very important that the car and graphics both be between 60 and 80 degrees for the stripes to go on properly. Once you’ve got that set up, the first step is to thoroughly wash and dry the car, then degrease its upper surfaces with rubbing alcohol. Once that’s done, lay the stripes on the body to double-check their fit.

2) Starting at the rear, put a few pieces of one-inch masking tape down as a template for your stripes. You want the outside edge of tape to be almost, but not quite, in the location of the inside edge of the stripes. Keep monkeying with this step until you’ve really got it right; once you’re actually laying down the stripes you won’t be able to get far enough away to check them as you go.

3) Wet down the immediate area to be striped. The factory recommends using soapy water, but I’ve actually had better luck with a slightly diluted solution of a window cleaner such as Windex. The purpose here is to give the glue behind the Mylar a little time to slip and slide around before it locks itself down tight. This helps you get the stripe into position and to work out the inevitable air bubbles and wrinkles that show up under the plastic.

4) Carefully pull back part of the rear cover sheet (which is really stuck on there), lay the stripe into place, and start working it onto the surface with a high-quality squeegee. The easiest way to goof this job up is to have the graphic’s sticky side touch itself, so be careful! If that happens you’re sunk.

When one stripe is correctly in place and no longer mobile, repeat the process with the adjacent stripe. (There are two pieces of stripe per sheet, and small cutouts in the backing paper assist you in placing them correctly. It’s an unusually clever kit in this regard, probably a reflection of its original role as a dealer-installed option.) Now work a squeegee over the stripes from the center to the nearest edge, pulling bubbles out as you go and being careful not to catch any seams or folds. A towel can be used toward the end of the process to wipe away any excess liquid; whatever might still be trapped under the stripes will eventually just evaporate.

5) Now pull off the front cover sheets, which are there to prevent the Mylar from stretching before it’s been put into place. The stripe will probably want to pull up at the edges while you do this, so hold it down carefully with your squeegee; this is not as easy as it looks! Once the upper sheet has been removed, go back in with your squeegee and work out the more egregious remaining bubbles. Small bubbles and imperfections will disappear on their own.

A couple of small corners continue the stripe onto the rear quarters to complete the back half of the package, and these ones are relatively easy. Another set of small pieces is included in case you’re using the OE spoiler.

6) Now for the front monster. Here the kit includes two huge pieces for the hood and two small corners for the lips that reach across the fenders. There are also six other pieces which go around the compound curves of the bumper. Since our project had a recently installed Racing Beat Type 2 bumper, I carefully double-checked the fit of the stripes. They were fine except at the very bottom, where some of the unused rear-spoiler pieces had to be used to fill in the wider lip.

7) Again using masking tape for a guide, follow the same techniques you used in the back. The front cover sheets are particularly hard to remove, and if they get too wet they’ll start to disintegrate and leave little flecks all over the stripes. (You can peel off most of these shreds with tweezers, but it’s a task that’s best avoided.) Lining up the longer front stripes is also harder than the rears, and
working out the bubbles more of a challenge. Not only are they larger, the contours of the hood seem to lead to lots of wrinkles and bubbles. The pieces that fit around the curved bumper are a particular pain, and warming the stripe with a blow-dryer may be necessary to make it all fit. Even so, if you’re patient and placid you’ll wind up with decent results. Rush it or get frustrated and you’ll probably just ruin your $250 stripes.

This installation was no picnic, but the effect of the white stripes on our blood-red project car was absolutely striking. Everyone who saw the car loved it. This kit is not for the person who wants to go unnoticed. The job took me over three hours start to finish, but the resulting fanfare was worth it. Mazda’s pearl-white stripe will look excellent on any red, blue, or black Miata, and maybe even BRG.

One more thing: A few hours after the job, you might see some funky bumps and bubbles growing under the stripes. Don’t freak out: New Mylar stripes often get “poison oak” due to moisture trapped in the glue. After a few days this all evaporates and the stripes will return to normal. (I wish they’d mentioned this in the instructions, incidentally. I only learned the hard way…!)

The other post-install tweak is to go back a full week later with a fine needle and squeegee to pop and smooth any remaining bubbles. (Most of these will disappear on their own, so popping them right away is unwise.) After that, well, enjoy all the stares!

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Presidential Address

– Vince Tidwell

Here’s a new theory I’ve come up with that I call the Rule of Three: If more than three things are wrong with your Miata and you don’t fix them, you will, within the span of six months, become so disenchanted and annoyed by your car that you might even consider getting rid of it.

Yikes!

I came to this conclusion after decades of laziness and automotive frustration. From the age of 25, I’ve had the pleasure of keeping the number of cars I’ve owned equal to the number of years I’ve lived. In reviewing the cars I’m glad I’m rid of, my disenchantment was rarely due to some design flaw. Instead, it was the result of some mechanical failure some mechanical failure which broke the relationship up. In the end, of course, that meant I was to blame, seeing as to how I was the caretaker in question; in essence, I had let the machine down. A deeper thinker might even say I was as disgusted with my own inaction as I was with the cars themselves.

When something acts up on your Miata, it’s performing less than expected. Seeing that happen over and over again only serves to accentuate the problem, for each time you experience it your negative emotions are reinforced. At some point the discontent will even begin to affect your whole attitude toward the car. You might even find yourself taking one of your OTM (Other Than Miata) cars on a short jaunt. These are warning signs not to be ignored.

As my ’90 Miata ages and I occasionally jump in a ’99, the items I need to pay attention to on my older car come right into focus. It’s amazing what we allow ourselves to become accustomed to. A rear window that’s a bit foggy, a door pull that’s gotten loose, that nick in the paint, a floormat that’s past its useful life—they all sort of fade into the background. However, they do add up to diminish the quality of your Miata experience.

I implore you to set aside some time to either fix or have fixed all these niggling problems right now. You only get so many Miata hours a week, so why spend them driving around with problems? One item can be overlooked; two you can usually work around; but when the list grows to three, it is time to “restore” your car. There is nothing on these machines that can’t be fixed, and parts are cheap.

Here’s the argument: If you let your car go so far that you’re in danger of falling out of love with it, you’ll end up selling it. Before you do that, of course, you’ll repair any obvious flaws or defects to get the most money from the next guy. So the new owner gets to enjoy all those new parts, while you were always annoyed with your car because it needed new parts. How kind of you: You’ve just treated the next guy to something you wouldn’t do for yourself!

Wouldn’t it make more sense to accept that you’ll have to do some work anyway, then enjoy the fruits of those labors yourself? It’s a false economy to do anything else.

If you really do get in a pinch, calculate the sales tax alone on a new Miata. Dollars to donuts, that figure alone would fix up your current car nicely. I’m certainly not dismissing the attraction of a brand-new MX5, but you should be moving up for the right reasons—not because you’ve neglected your current car. If that’s the case then your new one will start to look ratty soon enough anyway. Get in the habit of keeping those maintenance accounts short, and you won’t fall into this vicious cycle.

“Physician, heal thyself” is what I’ll be hearing from any of you that have seen the Club’s ’94 Laguna Blue at our Tech Sessions. We’ve had a small tear in the leather driver’s seat for two years now—a tear that even started happening while the car warranty and the fix was free for the asking. Fortunately, that’s the only flaw the car has, besides a few nicks and scratches and some squeaky antiroll-bar bushings.

Uh, oh—that’s three! Guess I need to get out to the shop one of these days….

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There was an article in this issue with the title of “A Boy and His Dog” and after my reminder of the 1975 movie of that name a couple weeks ago, I briefly considered using it here, but it was too long and oddly formatted as to make it more of a hassle OCRing of it. Plus I found this one a little more interesting.

A Vroom Of One’s Own

The Name Game
by Barbara Feinman

“What’s in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.”

When Shakespeare penned those words to come out of Juliet’s mouth, he was making the point that the feud between her own family and that of her star-crossed lover was based on something as meaningless and arbitrary as a name. Well, maybe a rose would indeed smell as sweet if you called it anything else, but when it comes to naming automobiles the pros aren’t so sure: By any other name, that which we call a Miata just might not seem so appealing. Joe Grady is a linguistics professor who also acts as a consultant for a California-based company that names products, including new cars. Joe has been part of various creative teams that have named everything from pharmaceuticals to clothes, household goods, and computer stuff, including the team that came up with the car-name Alero.

The way his particular company works is that about a dozen people are put on a creative team to name a particular product. They do this through a series of meetings with each other, with the client and by sending e-mails and faxes back and forth. After the team comes up with a selection of likely possibilities, the client then tests them out on potential buyers.

I asked Joe about the creative process of coming up with new names. Was there was a formula and a set of guidelines, or was it just a bunch of people clamoring in a room? “First of all,” he explained, “a great new name that will be memorable to people isn’t going to be generated by rules.” But then he paused to think. “On the other hand, it’s not a totally random process. The process has to combine open-endedness with considerations about the personality of the car, the market that’s targeted, the company’s brand identity, and the style of the carmaker.”

I’ve always liked the way that Miata rolls off the tongue—so much so that a friend once pointed out that whenever referring to my own roadster I never called it “my car,” but always “my Miata.” So the next logical question for Joe (or maybe it was a test) was whether he thought Miata was an effective moniker. “I think it’s a good name for a few different reasons,” he confirmed. “First, it sounds Italian. Everybody associates a sports-car tradition with Italy, so that’s valuable to link up with.”

But while it may sound Italian, I pointed out, miata is actually Old High German for
reward. Joe nodded at this and replied, “Well, it’s also a very pronounceable word, so a lot of people who speak different languages would be comfortable with it. For instance miata also fits well with the Japanese language, since both Japanese and Italian like syllables to end in vowels. All three syllables of miata do, so it sounds natural in both places.”

Then Joe began speaking more rapidly—more professorially—as his ideas jelled. “Miata also conveys the idea of quickness and smallness. It fits the car because it’s a short name, all the syllables short and quick…. And the M sound suggests smoothness, softness, and energy. I’m basing this on actual research on sound symbolism, by the way; M strikes people in all those ways.

“With a car like the Miata you’d be thinking what are the key messages you want to communicate: It might be speed, freedom, fun. You’re going to use these ideas as a launching pad to come up with a name. Whether it’s a Miata or a family SUV, every carmaker has an idea of the personality of the car and who it’s intended for. You’re going to use those as your inspiration and filter.”

The backside to this issue are the many literal meanings that may already be associated with a supposedly meaningless name. In the case of Miata—as with nearly all wholly made-up product names—the word came first, a meaningless series of sounds chosen simply for its pleasant ring and sporty connotations. Only after some research did Mazda learn miata was also a word in an old, obscure German dialect—conveniently a positive one.

In other cases, that research doesn’t prove as fortunate. Pontiac’s Firebird was originally to be called Banshee, but some last-minute research showed the literal definition of banshee to be “a mythical female spirit whose wailing foretells an impending death in the family.” They figured maybe Firebird was safer…

 

The song Vince is alluding to is called “Wear Sunscreen”. Is an essay written as a hypothetical commencement speech by columnist Mary Schmich, originally published in June 1997 in the Chicago Tribune. It became the basis for a successful spoken word song released in 1997 by Baz Luhrmann, “Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunscreen)”, also known as “The Sunscreen Song“.

Presidential Address

– Vince Tidwell

There is a current pop song in which the narrator (he doesn’t really sing) gives words of advice with a measure of humility. I understand they originated from an elder’s university commencement address, but it doesn’t really matter. I’ve spent the last 30 of my 42 years learning about all things automotive and, like the narrator, I have to say the following advice is just the interpretation of one person from my generation:

• Use sunscreen when your top is down, and use ear-plugs at speeds that make you raise your voice. You’ll need your hearing as you grow old to enjoy classical music and good conversation over a bottle of wine.
• Ignore all the magazines, pundits and self-appointed experts. You don’t need anyone’s approval.
• Keep most of your opinions to yourself; only share them with people close to you who have accepted you for who you are, not what you can do for them.
• Take a romantic trip with your beloved often. Tell him or her what you enjoy and find difficult about your relationship. They deserve to hear both.
• Eat at the counter when you can. The service will be faster, the food hotter, the conversation livelier.
• Drive many different types of cars. Trade your Miata for your neighbor’s Z3 or Mustang for a day. You’ll appreciate your neighbor’s a bit more, and your neighbor will buy a Miata.
• Remember fondly the days when you drooled over brochures. Anticipation is almost always more fun than the real thing. How else could companies market sports cars that never sport, off-roaders that never off-road, and touring cars that seldom tour?
• DRIVE!
• Do not store or save your Miata for any reason. It will be someone else’s some day, then it will be recycled. History is full of futile temples of worship; the only true value you receive from an object is in its use, not its ownership.
• Life should be filled with experiences, not excuses.
• Borrow someone else’s Ferrari, never buy one. If you must buy one, make the money before you spend it.
• Nothing very good or very bad lasts very long.
• Take children and older people for a spin with the top down. It’s the closest thing to remembering your first convertible ride.
• Maintain your Miata, but don’t worry about it. It’s as reliable as any car.
• If you have a concern, check it out. Worry is a poor substitute for action.
• If you modify your Miata. it will not be as it was. In some measure, it will always be less than it was.
• Take as many drives with your friends. A fulfilled life isn’t possible without them.
• Modifying your Miata will make it more personal. You decide the balance between personal and perfect.
• Make new friends often, but treasure those special few from your past—theirs is unconditional love.
• Change your Miata’s oil sometime between 3000 miles and 5000 miles, depending on how hard you usually drive.
• You usually don’t drive as hard as you think.
• If you race every other weekend, you drive hard.
• Change all fluids every two years and apply dielectric grease to all the low-voltage connectors whenever reconnecting them.
• Strive to keep your car in great shape, but use it up. Then sell it and buy a new one. Life is short, and new experiences are as fleeting as that new-car smell.
• Be wary of committee-designed automobiles: They do nothing for the soul.
• Always own a convertible sports car with earplugs and sunscreen in the center console.

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