3 years on – Saab Support Convoys

It’s January 17, 2013, here in Australia and three years ago, on January 17, 2010, Saab’s fate was hanging in the balance. General Motors seemed determined to close Saab down and Spyker were equally as determined to buy the company. As a community, we were determined to send GM a message – Saab was a company worth saving.

The first Saab Support Convoy was actually held in Detroit on January 5th, just before a GM board meeting. It was based on an idea that started in Holland – a gathering to celebrate Saab, no matter what the company’s fate would be. Of course, the nature of these events expanded as time went on.

Saab’s fate was expected to be decided at that Detroit GM board meeting but still hung in the balance several weeks later. The Detroit gathering gained some press coverage, which lent no small amount of determination to others to get together and make a difference.

The Saab Support Convoys began on the weekend of the 17th January and over the next few weekends, it’s estimated that around 10,000 people gathered in 6,000 Saabs (and others!) in 60 cities around the world.

It was an absolutely amazing time. Saab was saved (for the moment) and we felt like we were a part of the company. It was a wonderful time to be a Saab fan. Congratulations once again to all who were involved. I don’t think there’s ever been such a display of support for a car company, before or since.

There are 75 photos in the gallery below. Apologies if I missed anyone, but all the Saab Support Convoys are listed here.

Vale Curvin O’Rielly

It’s with a very heavy heart that I pass on some news that landed in my inbox overnight – the passing of Curvin O’Rielly on Friday night, US time, after a brief but tenacious battle with cancer.

Curvin worked in the original Mad Men era of advertising in the US. He only recently started a blog called Ace of Admen, and you can read a few of his advertising stories there. Sadly, he never got the opportunity to share more of these stories online. They were inevitably entertaining and there were always lessons to be learned.

I first met Curvin in 2010, at the Swedish Car Day event hosted by Charles River Saab in Boston. He was fresh off an appearance at the 2010 Saab Owners Convention, where he wowed the crowd with his thoughts on Saab’s advertising.

Saab was still a newly-independent company at the time. There was still a lot of enthusiasm and positivity surrounding the company, although there were concerns starting to emerge, especially in the United States. The Saab 9-5 had been launched just a few months prior, but only as an Aero, at what was considered to be a very high price, and without an all-important sunroof being available.

Added to that was a print advertising campaign that got everyone talking, but for all the wrong reasons. The ad was called She is not for you. The ad caused more than just a ripple of concern in the Saab community and I can remember having a long, occasionally emotional conversation about it with one of the Saab USA guys in Boston that weekend I was there.

In his appearance at the Saab Owners Convention in 2010, just a few weeks earlier, Curvin presented his treatise on what Saab’s advertising should be. He had a good well of experience to draw on, too, as he had worked on Saab’s advertising accounts back when the legendary ‘Uncle’ Bob Sinclair took over the reigns at Saab USA in the late 1970s.

The most intelligent car ever built was his baby. That campaign, along with improved product from Sweden during the 1980s, ushered in the golden era to come at Saab later that decade.

I can’t say much about his SOC2010 presentation except to say that he knocked people’s socks off. Anyone I spoke to about the event talked about the presentation.

The best thing I can do is point you to some of the slides from that presentation at Uncle Bob’s Rules.

That site was set up by Chip Lamb, Curvin and his colleague, Willy Hopkins, as part of what became a quiet, ongoing campaign to take on Saab’s advertising work. It wasn’t successful, of course, but it was insightful and you can see why the motivational text from the presentation got people so fired up, especially at a time like 2010 where Saab’s US advertising was seen to be lacking so much substance.

Curvin was pleased to be able to share more detail about his proposal with Victor Muller and Jan-Ake Jonsson at SOC. His offer to them was to set up a small, boutique advertising agency using his expertise and some hand-picked people to work solely on Saab’s US advertising. His offer was politely declined but he persisted and spent some time in Boston taking me and a few others through the campaign as well.

Would it have changed things for Saab? I don’t know.

Saab’s core problem in the US was a poor initial Saab 9-5 offering, delays to the 9-4x and of course, the finance problems back in Sweden. I don’t know if a different ad campaign in the US, where margins are so small, would have helped. In any case, it’d merely be an academic exercise to debate that today.

——

I next met Curvin at the New York Auto Show in April, 2011. It was my first (and as things turned out, my last) motor show as a Saab employee and Saab were showing the PhoeniX concept car in the United States for the first time. Curvin sat in the car and absolutely loved it.

I wrote on Inside Saab at the time that he offered both his credit card and his checkbook, but wasn’t allowed to take PhoeniX home. It was a generous offer, especially when you consider that PhoeniX had done what concept cars do sometimes – it played up, closing its electronic doors leaving him stuck inside the car for 5 minutes or so while we scrambled to find the remote control and open the doors again.

A few days later I had a wonderful lunch with Curvin at a real New York diner and that’s how I’ll remember Curvin the most. He was an ad man, a Saab fan and a generous guy. To me, he’ll always be a New Yorker. He loved the city and we had a great time in that short time together in The Big Apple.

Curvin O’Rielly was one of the most contemporary and connected of citizens, one who knew his stuff, wasn’t afraid to tell you his story but was also kind enough to listen and learn from yours as well.

I’m ever so pleased that I got to meet him, am saddened immensely by has passing and can only wish that I got to know him more.

Happy Birthday, Dad

If my father were still alive, he would have been 79 years old today. He passed away in 1985 from a cancer that probably would have been relatively easy to treat in 2012. In fact, it probably should have been treated back then. He was first diagnosed with a tumour in March 1985, which was ‘successfully’ removed and declared to have been a benign tumour anyway. By September, that benign spot had another tumour and just two months and five surgeries later, he was gone.

Right: my favourite photo of Dad with my grandmother, circa 1936.

That’s about as much as I remember of his illness. I’ve asked my mother about it a few times but we all seem to be a bit foggy about what happened, where the cancer was, etc. It all happened so quickly and being just 15 at the time, I was shielded from the reality of the situation to a large extent.

We got a call late at night, one that was expected but still unwelcome. I got a ride into the hospital with my brother-in-law, if I remember correctly. Mum was already there and had been for hours. The doctors wouldn’t have told Dad their prognosis, but we knew that this visit was one with equal shares of urgency and finality. I think Dad knew what was happening, too.

Dad was in intensive care at St Vincent’s Hospital, hooked up to all the machines that 1985 medicine had to offer. He drifted in and out of consciousness, a feat that seems amazing in itself given the amount of painkillers that were being pumped into him. In one of those moments of clarity, he looked at me and gave me his usual greeting – “How you going, mate?” I’m not sure if it’s the recollections of a kid who just wants it to be that way or if I missed something afterwards, but I was there until his final breath and I’m pretty sure those were his last words.

It’s always been hard for me to reconcile my father’s passing. There are certain things about him that I can remember vividly but many more, I’m sure, that have faded with time.

Continue reading Happy Birthday, Dad

Heading home

It’s time to head back to the Land of Oz. I’m not sure when I’ll be back close to Sweden, but hopefully it’ll be sooner rather than later. I miss the place already.

My thanks to everyone who’s been so kind to me on this trip. I have a lot to write about when I get back home, all because so many people were so generous with their time while I was here.

Thanks to: Predrag, Ann-Marie, EVERYONE at Saab, Mats, Ingvar, Christian, Mike, Hilary, Mr Saab and Britt-Marie, Nic, Johan, Stefan, Ben and Dave. You’ve all made this trip extra-special and leaving is all the more difficult because of your friendship and generosity.

And with the teary farewell stuff out of the way, I can tell you there’s lots of good stuff to come. Time to go home and get down to it……

Sweden Diary – Day 4 of my visit to Trollhattan

Yesterday was a busy day and a very enjoyable one. I’ll write more detailed notes on the visits at a later date, but there’s a summary below.

I guess the dominant feeling from this visit, aside from the happiness at being back here and seeing colleagues and friends again, is one of sadness. I’m coming to a better understanding of the personal loss that I’ll have in my own life by not being able to pursue my career with Saab here in Sweden. This job would have been fantastic and that’s a significant loss in itself, but more than that, there’s the friendships and experiences that I won’t get to build and share with people here.

Life back in Australia will be great, I know, but I’m really going to miss everything that Sweden had to offer PJ and I in terms of opportunities, experiences and friends. I guess it’s also making me more determined to make sure we do things back in Australia so we can live the way we want to, rather than the way circumstances might seem to dictate we have to.

Anyway, to yesterday’s activities…..

Visit with e-AAM

I called in on e-AAM to visit with Peter Johansson, a bloke I first met a few years ago back in Australia and the company’s vehicle integration manager. Peter’s the guy who made sure the XWD system that first appeared in the Saab 9-3 back in 2008 worked so well – the perfect guy to lead the vehicle integration efforts for e-AAM’s new eXWD system.

Their work has been affected by what’s happened to Saab, of course, but they continue to make progress and eXWD should indeed see life as a production component with interest from several companies already being nurtured. It shouldn’t be that far away, either.

When Peter’s not developing tomorrow’s technologies at the office, he’s in his private workshop building the car he’ll probably race from this summer in Sweden. We visited the workshop, too, and it was an amazing experience.

Peter’s the third generation of his family to work at Saab. His grandfather was one of the original 16 or so engineers who were there at the start of Saab’s automotive operations. His father, Sigge (who passed away very recently), was a legendary engineer at Saab and did some amazing things in the home workshop as well. Stuff like this:

That’s part of a compressor system (supercharger) for a Saab V4. Imagine that poking out the hood of your Saab 96 or Sonett 🙂

There’s plenty more from that visit, but that’ll do for now.

Museum Visit

I also called into the Saab Museum to collect the award that Saab gave me a few years ago.

I’ve always preferred the idea of the award staying with the museum, but with the recent threat to the museum’s continued existence, I thought I’d take the opportunity to bring it home. I can always return it to the museum if things work out OK.

On that front, I feel a bit more confident about the museum’s future after chats with people here in Trollhattan. There were a lot of bids for individual vehicles (the reports of around 500 bids are accurate, from what I hear) but also some bids for the entire museum operation, which is encouraging.

I guess the question for the bankruptcy administrators is do they risk scraping together a little more money from individual sales – with some bidders probably possibly having thrown ‘hail mary’ bids and the possibility of non-payment – or do they make what I’d see as the sensible decision and take a whole-of-operation bid that would not only protect the heritage and value of the collection, but also provide them with funds in one easy-to-administer and easy-to-collect transaction.

TTELA interview

The local newspaper, TTELA, got in touch with me and asked for a pow-wow, so I talked with them yesterday. Anna-Karin from TTELA was a trooper – the photographer wanted an outside photo so we did the interview as we walked the streets of Trollhattan, with her trying to write as we walked. Her hands must have come very close to freezing and falling off the end of her arms.

I don’t know when that interview will be published, but probably in the next day or so.

Dinner

Meals are always a highlight of this visit as they’re a chance to catch up with colleagues and friends. Last night was Mamma Mia’s lasagne and it was great, as always. The occasion also saw me sell my little red 900 and it’s great to know that it’s gone to a good home here in Trollhattan. I had some great times with that little car. Whilst it wasn’t worth much in financial terms, it was worth everything in terms of the freedom it gave me as a foreigner here in Sweden, and the fun times I had driving it around the countryside.

Cars I’ve owned – Holden Gemini

Do I hang my head in shame or simply accept my humble roots? I’ll say it up front: I’ve owned not one, but two Holden Geminis.

My first ever car was a 1977 Holden Gemini in what I’ll call baby blue. I don’t know what the real name for the color was. The 1977 Gemini had the round headlamps on the front, whereas the 1978 model had square headlamps (more about that shortly).

The Gemini was essentially an Opel Kadett with a 1600cc Isuzu engine in the front and a 4-speed manual gearbox. This is an image of an Opel Kadett of the same era that I found on the web. The blue is not quite ‘baby’ enough to be the same as mine, but it’s close.

I bought the car several months before getting my drivers licence. I think I paid $3,000 for it, which is pretty much been indicative of my ceiling for purchasing cars ever since. The money has stayed the same but the cars I can afford for that amount (plus a little more) have improved remarkably.

The day I (finally) got my licence was one to remember. I’d owned the car for a few months and was itching to get on the road. I sat for my driver’s test late in the morning, passed, and my instructor (who has fabulous training skills, perhaps because she pursued Driving Instructor Training Courses newcastle) congratulated me as she dropped me off back at home. I’m sure I was polite enough to reply, but I can’t remember. All I remember is running down the driveway and getting into my car – MY CAR – and hitting the road.

Continue reading Cars I’ve owned – Holden Gemini

Things I remember from when I was young…..

I thought it best to write them down as sometimes I forget, or perhaps just neglect to remember. Not a comprehensive list of things. Far from complete, but not a bad start for one evening’s work.

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– Pa, according to my memory, had a brown 1960’s Holden. I think it was a HD, but it could have been a HR. That car is the earliest memory I have. Either that, or falling asleep in the family car after visits to Uncle Ron and Aunty Barbara’s house.

– My sister used to get me to brush her hair.

– We used to have a game when I was quite small where I’d close my eyes and get her to outline and area of my face with her finger, then I’d tell her what color to paint it. I’d imagine it being painted that color while my eyes were closed.

– I used to read my sister’s ANZ Bank training manuals.

– One of the scariest moments of my childhood was one night when my sister was babysitting me and I was upset for some reason (probably because I was in bed and didn’t want to be). I remember her storming into my room, turning on my light and calling me “a little shit”. She’d never said that before, as long as I could remember.

– Dad used to fall asleep on the chair in the loungeroom with his hand inside his dressing gown, a-la Napoleon.

– I remember the ride home from band practice one Tuesday night. Dad and I were driving along Murray Rd (maybe it’s not named Murray Rd at that point, maybe still Southern Rd) just where it crosses Liberty Parade in West Heidelberg. Dad and I hadn’t spoken much the whole drive, if at all, and I can remember looking across at him and wondering “who is he?” and whether or not he was struggling as much as I was to think of something to say.

– Everyone marvelled at Mickey playing the organ, but he couldn’t play at all. His hands just mashed around in a vague recollection of a chord progression and people were just too polite to say something or too tipsy to notice.

– I feel somewhat ashamed that I never said much of anything to Avery during Mickey’s illness. I struggled to cope with impending grief after Dad died and probably still do to this day.

– I used to wonder who I’d prefer to live with if Mum and Dad split up. Dad was kinder, but Mum could cook (chips, at least). Kids hate to have to think about that sort of thing, but even though Mum could be a bit of a dragon, it shows that love runs deep.

– Mum used to leave cornflakes in a bowl for me when she went to work (before I woke up). I used to tip them into a big bush in the garden. There must have been several years worth in there by the time we moved.

– I feel a lot of regret for the lack of care I showed for my sister’s first dog, Sasha. She was a beautiful Red Setter and one of my happiest memories is when we picked her up as a puppy. I used to call her “romper” as she would romp around the backyard. She got a lot of love sometimes, but probably had a sad life over all, living outside as she did. It would have been difficult to have the arrangements any other way, but it was still sad.

– Myself and another kid, John Tsaskovski (sp?) were asked by our Grade 5 teacher to get a basket from her car. We got the basket, then peeked inside and noticed it was full of our class’ school reports for that term. We took so long reading through them that the teacher (Miss Pascoe IIRC) knew what we’d been up to. She might have even come out and caught us. Anyway, we ended up in the Principal’s office. Due to his previous record, John was give the strap. I had worse punishment – I had to watch. There’s something about seeing a kid anticipate pain that’s quite cruel.

– The first baby I ever had anything to do with was Deke Johnson. I didn’t like the idea of babies, but I fawned over baby Deke as soon as I saw him. I then had the family in fits of laughter at the dinner table as I kept saying “big Deke, little Deke” over and over again. I never knew why they found it so funny until much later. I just thought I was naturally gifted with humour.

– The girl across the street and two houses up was Clare Stanley. The boy across the street was Dominic O’Connor. Paul and Helen Young lived across the street and last year, when I called past, their parents Kevin and Mrs Young still lived there. Vicki Clarke lived down the street. Drew and Stephen lived along Sydney St, but Mum didn’t like them much.

– I gave David Barnes run out once and he cracked it. He was out.

– My Dad had a Ford Falcon. My Mum had a Ford Cortina. My sister’s car was called Bugalugs.

– Christmas in 1976 (or maybe it was 1978) was mayhem. I think it was 1978. I must have been a bit weird that year as my sister had got married earlier in the year. Anyway, Santa went bananas and one whole wall of the loungeroom was full of presents.

– We used to have fish and chips on Saturday nights. Dad and I would get them and while they were cooking, we wandered up to the newsagents. If I was lucky, he’d buy me a Mad magazine. We’d go home and watch The Big League, the only two hours of football on television for the week.

– The one activity I remember Dad doing most was painting walls or ceilings. Mum always seemed to want something to be painted. So he would get something similar to a stair ladder platform to stand on and paint the ceiling and walls that mom asked him to paint. He used to play marching records while he did it. I’m sure he enjoyed doing it!

-In today’s society, these opportunities are rare since people don’t usually have time for their families. Therefore, they usually prefer to contact professional painting companies like My House Painter, so their painting projects can be completed more quickly and effectively.

– I can’t ever remember going to a Carlton game with Dad. Port Melbourne, yes, but Carlton, no.

– Actually, one time I did go to a Carlton game with Dad. It was against Essendon and we actually went to Windy Hill to see it, but the crowd was too big and we couldn’t get in. I think there was a big fight in that game, too.

– I used to get embarrassed when I was small, watching Countdown on TV. I used to think I wasn’t grown up enough for it and people were catching me trying to be big when I was really small.

– Dad loved The Benny Hill Show and Are You Being Served? So did I.

– I had a goldfish named Percy, after Percy Jones, the Carlton ruckman.

– I was in the bath when Mum told me that Dad had to take Sally, our Samoyed, to the vet to get ‘put down’. I cried a lot when I found out that meant she wouldn’t be coming home.

– I once tried to throw a golf ball at our BBQ. I missed and broke one of the panes of Dad’s glasshouse.

– One of my favourite recurring memories was getting 20 cents off Dad to go down to the shop to buy some mixed lollies.

– One of the houses on the way to the shop had this long haired, funny looking guy living there. He had a HQ Monaro in candy apple red and looked a bit scary. A few years later he was my cricket coach. His name was Alex.

– Our primary school Principal was Mr Melvin. We used to call him ‘square-head’ even though it was more triangular in shape.

– No-one was supposed to go through the gardens at Macleod Primary. Whenever we entered them, we ran as fast as we could thinking there were boogie-men in there.

– I don’t remember how I met Adam, nor if his name was Cambridge or Stuckey. I think it changed from one to the other after his Mum married Eddy.

– Adam used to pick on his sister Natalie a lot. I used to protect her a lot.

– Uncle Ken and Auntie Sue have always been my closest relatives outside my immediate family, had my greatest love and affection, and are the source of some of my happiest childhood memories.

– ……….

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