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Story by Byron Hurd
For the last two years I have introduced myself in many a letter with some variation of the phrase “aspiring young journalist.” Loosely translated, it means “I’m fresh out of school, I worked at my college paper, and I’d really, really like a job well above my level of qualification. But I can write, I promise!”
To make matters worse, if you really want to join the ranks of the elite automotive journalists, you need a few things going for you, and most of them are championship trophies and Pulitzer prizes. I don’t have any of those (unless you count the plasti-trophy I got for finishing an entire year of little league). Fortunately, all it takes to be a blogger is internet access, a hosting site, and an ego big enough to inspire the confidence that other people give a damn what you think. Check, check and check!
When Jack asked me to write an intro column, I dutifully scraped together 1,400 words about how awesome I am and threw them his way. It seemed an odd request at the time, but after looking over my submission, Jack asked me to hold off on the intro piece and instead write on a more focused topic. I did, and you guys ended up with 1,500 words about how awesome the RX-8 is instead (A significant improvement, some might say). But take my word for it; I am pretty awesome.
So as not to make the transition into my role any more awkward, I’m going to stick to the focused topics and let my experiences trickle through them. Hopefully, over the next few weeks, you will all get to know me and come to appreciate the perspective I bring to S:S:L. This week, I want to chat about a subject that has been harped on many, many times by enthusiasts and the press alike, and yet still remains quite near and dear to my heart: Volkswagen.
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