REVIEW: 2012 Nissan Juke SV

You get a lot of looks from people when you roll up to a traffic light in the 2012 Nissan Juke. The facial expressions are all the same:  like they’ve sort of seen one of these at a distance, for a fleeting moment, but never up-close until now. 

It’s a memorable expression. 
The Juke is a memorable vehicle.

I’ve had the unique pleasure of driving the Juke SV for the past week. Yeah, that was me, the graphite-blue blur you just nearly saw go past. 

The SV-edition features the I-CON Integrated Control System that enables tweaking of the engine performance and ride suspension through three settings. 
I don’t know how the other two settings work, because I can’t seem to take it out of “sport,” or wipe the smile off my face every time I hit the gas.

Bug's-eye view of those bulbous
signal/front marker light assemblies

Gartner Research compared automobile ownership between today’s 20-somethings and those of yesteryear: 46% would rather have internet access instead of owning their own wheels. Seriously?

Automakers are enlisting the help of MTV and Facebook to reach younger drivers—and potential buyers. All they need to do is put them behind the wheel of one of these for an hour, and then show them where to sign the paperwork. 

Yes, it’s that. much. fun.

The 1.6-L DIG Turbo'd power plant

The Juke SV has a 1.6-L Direct-injection engine, enhanced by a turbo booster, mated to a six-speed manual transmission to drive the front wheels. 

The only criticism I have is that all that torque is felt just a little bit in the steering wheel…I feel like Randy on American Idol telling someone “it’s a little pitchy.”

Okay two things—the back seat and rear door access is not designed for the stiff-limbed or long-legged. But all in all, this is a snappy, tight package offering exhilarating driving bang for a reasonable outlay of bucks. 

The SV edition I’m driving totals $22,015 on the sticker with the manual shift/front wheel drivetrain. It comes in an automatic/AWD version that I’d probably have to take medication for afterwards.
 

 

(Go ahead...click on the video)

 As for the 46% of “yout’s” who’d rather have internet than wheels…youth is wasted on the young.

The Skunk Works of News92fm

“The Skunk Works” is an alias for the top-secret research and development headquarters of Lockheed Martin Aircraft. These are the guys who’ve come up with fabulous innovations like the U-2 Spy Plane, the SR-71 Blackbird, and the F-22 Raptor. I could tell you where the Skunk Works is…but then I’d have to shoot you.

The genesis of this highly-classified R&D division grew out of a request by the military in 1938 to develop what would become the amazing, twin-boomed P-38 Lightning. Much of the research that resulted in this 400-mph+ aircraft was done in secret, without a contract, because the engineers working on the fighter knew there was a better way to build an aircraft.

Official Lockheed-Martin Skunk Works logo

In the ‘40’s, Al Capp’s comic strip, “Lil’ Abner,” described the “Skonk Works” as a rundown factory on the out-skirts of Dogpatch that emitted the foulest of odors from the rendering of skunk carcasses and shoe soles into some unknown concoction, the fumes of which were toxic.

According to the entry in Wikipedia, “The original Lockheed facility…was located adjacent to a malodorous plastics factory. According to Ben Rich’s memoir, an engineer showed up to work one day wearing a Civil Defense gas mask as a gag. To comment on the smell and the secrecy the project entailed, another engineer, Irving Culver, referred to the facility as "Skonk Works".

“As the development was very secret, the employees were told to be careful even with how they answered phone calls. One day, when the Department of the Navy was trying to reach the Lockheed management for the P-80 project, the call was accidentally transferred to Culver’s desk. Culver answered the phone in his trademark fashion of the time, by picking up the phone and stating "Skonk Works, inside man Culver".

"What?" replied the voice at the other end.

"Skonk Works", Culver repeated. The name stuck.”

(I actually did this a few days ago. There's only one phone operating in our loan-out space, and it rang during a meeting. I picked up the phone and answered, "Skunk Works." The caller was pretty surprised...and a little disappointed that the person she was seeking was no longer employed or at that number.)

For the past few weeks, I have been working at an undisclosed location on a very exciting Radio project, which you now know will be Houston’s newest 24-hour all-news station, News92fm. 

My colleagues and I have been bound by a legal, non-disclosure agreement to disavow any knowledge of this, if asked, and it’s been quite fun to dodge questions by answering, in a stern-faced manner, “I am under a legal NDA, and I cannot comment.”

The News92fm "Skunk Works"

We’ve called our little hideaway, The Skunk Works.

It has been neither foul nor dilapidated, and in fact the folks who work there for another, well-respected company have treated us quite well.

As we begin to emerge from our fox holes and bunkers and share our work with the rest of the world, we’ll also share some of the inside scenes as we’ve brought together some amazingly-talented and dedicated Journalists to create News92fm. And, as I am fond of saying, "we'll see you on the Radio!"

On Sleeping-In

There are few things in life more delicious than waking in the morning without the aid of an electronic or mechanical device. You know...an alarm clock.

Since my "sabbatical" from a regular Radio show began in July, I've been wrestling to find just the right start- and end-point of restful sleep my body needs. At first I rebelled from the regimen of bedding down early so that I could greet the dawn before most people are even conscious. I stayed up late and caught episodes of "CSI" and "The Mentalist" on TV. A few times I became so adventurous as to watch the late news...and even dared to catch episodes of Letterman or Leno. Outrageous, me.

I found, however, that no matter how late I dared to stay up, my internal body clock would rouse me before the sun...or at least in time to hear the "hissing of summer lawns," as Joni Mitchell once elegantly described.

The myth that the older you get, the less sleep you need is exactly that: A myth. I still require fewer hours than my Bride, but can tell when the formula's off by an hour or two.

Given the day of the week, I am now being greeted by lights and sounds I haven't seen or heard since we moved into this house: Ducks scrounging for grubs by the pond, the neighbor's yappy dog complaining about the cold grass at their back door (that's the same idiot dog I sometimes fall asleep to, or am awakened by in the middle of the night, too!) and the aforementioned lawn maintenance events.

Just to watch the light stream through the eastward windows of the house is a treat.

I am relishing these simple pleasures of nestling deeper under the covers, my wife's leg slung over mine, and the soft whisper of our little dog's breathing pulsing near my ribs...because I know they're fleeting. The rhythm and regularity of a Radio schedule is in the not too distant future, and I'll be sharing more about that with you soon.

For now...time to hit the biological snooze button, because I couldn't reach the alarm clock if I wanted to.