‘Park Assist’ pales compared to coffee

Have you seen the new Lexus in the commercial?

Supposedly, it parallel parks itself.

At first, I thought they were kidding, that it was an attention-getter. You know, like, “This car is so wonderful, it would even park itself, if it could.”

Except they’re serious.

My first thought was, “Wow, they’re serious? What a supremely stupid idea!”

Now, I well know parallel parking is the bane of many suburbanites who rarely encounter parking other than in driveways and lots, not to mention the cold sweat in which many would-be drivers break out when that notorious segment of the driver’s test is mentioned.

But how is automatic parallel parking going to help this situation? Especially on a car that costs in the neighborhood of $70,000?

Seems to me that the folks who drop that kind of cash on an automobile already have their parking situation worked out—they hand the parking valet their keys.

But seriously, “Lexus Park Assist,” as it’s called, as one might assume, isn’t really perfected yet, according to reviews.

“In practice, ‘Park Assist’ really works only in ideal situations—basically, it helps only when help is needed least,” wrote Peter Valdes-Dapena for CNN.com on Oct. 17.

In theory, the driver just pulls the car up ahead of a space, makes some adjustments on a computer screen, and lets up on the brake, and the car parks itself.

Sure...like the car is going to do better on video game-like instructions from a human driver who’s intimidated by parallel parking and is probably not too swift on computer programming either.

The way it actually works, from what I’ve read, is this:

You find a spot about four feet longer than your already huge (especially if you go for the extended wheel-base option) luxury vehicle.

You pull up well ahead of this mythically huge and rare urban vehicle resting repository, put the car into reverse, and the review camera turns on.

You are given two choices—parallel park or back-in park?

When you select parallel park, a green box should appear which outlines the space. A red box means your car doesn’t fit.
Pressing arrows on the screen, you line up the green box with the area in which you intend to place the car. You hit “OK.”

“If you were doing this in Manhattan you would, by this time, have watched someone in a Mini Cooper drive nose first into the space while you’re poking at the arrows,” Valdes-Dapena astutely predicts. Or watched an irate, impatient newspaper editor do the same thing in a Saab 900 in downtown Easton.

Other problems with “Park Assist” include a tendency to leave one’s shiny luxury vehicle a bit too far from the curb (sounds like an invitation to lose a side view mirror or worse) and a tendency to be inoperative on downward inclines.

One thing that has me personally worried is the back-in park option. I’m not sure those who can’t just back a vehicle up into a parking spot belong behind the wheel of a car, no matter how expensive. Actually, I’m not sure I want to be on the road with anyone who can’t parallel park and can’t figure out an alternative. It seems like that person might just have a problem with decisions, and a reasonable ability to quickly spatially problem-solve seems rather intrinsic to safe driving.

For that matter, I’ve got to wonder...Aren’t most folks that are smart enough to become wealthy enough to afford a brand-new Lexus also smart enough and familiar with urban territories to know how to park their cars? What is Lexus thinking?

If I were Lexus, here’s what I might put in a luxury vehicle:

How ‘bout a coffee maker? It could have a large reservoir (five gallons?) so there’s always water ready, and it would warn you when you got low on water. Maybe ditto for coffee. If we REALLY wanted to get fancy, it could not only hold a couple of pounds, perhaps they could be stored in whole bean form, and the coffee maker could grind out the proper amount when needed. It could be drip-proof, and perhaps do one or two cups at a time, into those nifty stainless steel thermal mugs—perfect for that dash into the high-stress corporate world that made one’s purchase of a $70,000 automobile possible in the first place.

I don’t want to seem stuck on food, but a mini-fridge might be nice too. Something small, just enough for a few beverages, or lunch. Or half and half for the coffee. This could be worked in the center console...

My 19-year-old Saab doesn’t have any of these things, but I’m thinking I might need to invest in these features soon. While I’m stuck in traffic, you never know, I could starve to death, waiting for someone with more money (and a Lexus) than brains or driving skill, trying to figure out how to program their car to park itself.

(Originally published in The Easton News, October 26, 2006)