2006 Saab on 2040-cars

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Saab has ruined all Swedish cars for me

It's easy to dismiss my hatred of all Swedish automotive manufacturers as a simple result of bad experiences. I mean, we're all products of our own experiences, some we learn from, others we don't, and some we need to be hit over the head with time and time again. I've been hit over the head too many times with Saabs (and one lonely Volvo), and as a result, I can't bring myself to buy a Koenigsegg. It started with a 900 Turbo sedan. You know, the ugly duckling sister of the beautiful two-door coupe that spawned the Aero, which managed to look stunning from the front, and like a child with a full nappy (diaper) at the rear. I bought it at an auction (mistake number one) for $6,500 (AUD) because as a bloke in his early twenties, I wanted to be noticed – and a greasy-haired bespectacled musician driving a turbocharged Swedish luxury car was my way of standing out. On the drive home I noticed two things: one, it handled like it was on rails – it just gripped! And two, the turbo wasn't working. I took my new wheels to the mechanic, who promptly told me a custom exhaust system would solve the problem – mistake number two. During the fitting, Mr. Shonky's Repair Shop managed to fry some computer thingy. I won't try to remember or understand what it was, but he did tell me that it should have been replaced and that I would have to pay for it. I agreed. Mistake number three. Twelve months later I had spent more than double the original purchase price on repairs, and the turbo still wouldn't work. I sold it for about $4,000, and moved on to something more sensible. But the beautiful handling and quirky design had left an itch that I just couldn't scratch. Many cars and motorbikes later, I sold my Mazda RX-8 because it was too perfect. You know those cars that have spotless paint, an unmarked interior, low kilometers, and you're just too damn scared to park it anywhere? Yep, it was one of those. I would spend 30 to 40 minutes trying to find a vacant spot with vacant spots on either side, and even after leaving the car I would walk back to check if anyone had parked next to me. If they did, I moved. Not a low-anxiety vehicle. So I bought my second Saab – this time a 9-5 turbo wagon – from an auction. Wasn't that mistake number one? This one had reasonably low kilometers, and was even on LPG (a fairly common conversion is Australia – just not on Saabs) and only set me back $2,200. I drove it home, and low and behold, the turbo worked!

Victor Muller to pay Sweden back taxes for Saab work

Victor Muller, Saab's CEO from 2010 to 2011, has been ordered by the Swedish court to pay the back taxes he owes the country for his work at Saab, Autoweek and Volkskrant report. When he was the automaker's CEO he received a salary of about 8 million Swedish Krona ($1.25 million), which was recorded as a reward for consultancy work for a company in the US that Muller owns. The move allowed him to evade taxes for awhile, but the court has ordered him to pay taxes on his full salary.
Muller, who is also CEO of Spyker, and two other Saab executives were accused of accounting fraud in May, which took place in 2010 and 2011. According to reports, Muller maintains that he is not subject to taxes in Sweden.

Vampire Weekend burns for Saab

Or is it the other way around?
Could Vampire Weekend be trying to tell me something? A just-launched music video for the indie rock band's new single Diane Young features what looks like a pretty mint black Saab 900 Turbo Convertible being torched in slow-motion. In fact, with the exception of a brief, flickering cameo by a 900 three-door of a similar vintage, that's all that there is to the nearly three-minute long video. It's both sad and oddly beautiful.
Coincidentally, I have a similar-looking turbocharged black Saab convertible sitting in my garage, and I've been reluctantly pondering its sale this very week. Admittedly, mine is a later model (2001 9-3 Viggen), but tri-spokes and more tapered rump aside, it looks eerily identical. And while mine isn't mired in flames (I love it too much to torch it), through no fault of its own, it's been sitting motionless far too regularly. Thankfully, I see a better future for it than the droptop seen above.