Each week I bring you the top stories in the auto industry along with my commentary or sometimes amusing thoughts about the craziness that goes on in the world of cars.
- Fowl Play: Cadillac’s Missing Ducks Make a Secret Comeback
- Allstate’s Mayhem Guy Lost Toes, Gained Icon Status, and Keeps Wrecking Stuff
- Emma Watson may have a heavier foot than me
- Udderly Ridiculous: Subaru Cowspiracy Finally Solved
Fowl Play: Cadillac’s Missing Ducks Make a Secret Comeback. Once upon a time, Cadillac's logo featured a flock of fancy footless birds that everyone called ducks-but weren’t ducks at all—because nothing screams luxury like confusing medieval avian symbolism. These were actually merlettes, which are mythical beakless, legless birds from some French guy’s coat of arms who also happened to found Detroit. Because sure, why not, and for decades these non-ducks proudly fluttered across Cadillac’s crest like they owned the place until around 2000, when the brand decided it was time to clean house and sent the merlettes packing. They presumably flew to a nice retirement pond somewhere outside Versailles, all in the name of sleek, modern design that had no room for heraldic bird-things. Fast-forward to the EV era and Cadillac just couldn’t resist the urge to bring the ducks—sorry, merlettes—back in the most Cadillac way possible. They are now hiding them inside the car like a secret aristocratic scavenger hunt, showing up on interior panels like feathered Illuminati. So now if you buy a Lyriq or Celestiq and squint just right, you might spot one of these stealthy luxury pigeons lurking in the trim, silently judging you for not knowing your medieval French genealogy, because apparently, what your electric SUV really needed was a reminder that it’s descended from a guy who thought ducks without faces were peak prestige. Go figure.
Allstate’s Mayhem Guy Lost Toes, Gained Icon Status, and Keeps Wrecking Stuff
Before he was flipping lawn chairs, crashing into shopping carts, or tumbling off rooftops in a perfectly disheveled suit, Dean Winters was just another actor with a résumé full of gritty cable shows and a face people vaguely remembered. You might recall him as Liz Lemon’s disaster ex-boyfriend on 30 Rock—if you squint hard enough. Then Allstate came calling with an offer to become “Mayhem,” the living embodiment of every driver’s worst nightmare. Dean—who had just survived a literal brush with death involving a bacterial infection, amputated toes, and a stint in the ICU—naturally said “no.” Not once, not twice, but three times. Apparently, pretending to be a tree branch in rush hour traffic didn’t exactly scream “career revival.” But eventually, his agent talked him into it. The rest is twisted insurance history. By the time he snarled his first smirking warning from the driver’s side window, America was hooked. This tuxedo-wearing chaos goblin was somehow both terrifying and oddly charming, hurling himself into flaming garages and mailboxes at 30 miles per hour. Suddenly, Dean Winters wasn’t just that guy from Oz—he was the guy who made slipping off a wet roof look like Shakespeare in slapstick. Allstate’s sales soared. Viewers everywhere wondered how much hazard pay it took to be crushed by a flaming air conditioner on national TV. Through it all, Winters leaned in with the grin of a man who knew he’d become the patron saint of fender-benders. And if you’re wondering what kind of person makes a career out of embodying Murphy’s Law in human form, the answer is someone who already cheated death, lost parts of his body, turned down the role three times—and still managed to crash into your subconscious with the force of a distracted driver hitting a mailbox. Because in a world of insurance mascots, Mayhem doesn’t talk about coverage. He is the deductible.
Emma Watson may have a heavier foot than me. Emma Watson has officially lost her license to drive—but not because of any wild car chase or magical mishap. The actress was caught doing 38 mph in a 30 mph zone, which might sound harmless until you realize it was her fourth speeding offense in just two years. That latest violation pushed her to 12 penalty points, the magic number in the UK for an automatic driving ban. As a result, she’s off the road for six months. Watson didn’t appear in court herself. Instead, her lawyer paid the £1,044 ($1,350 U.S.) fine, likely scaled to her income, and accepted the penalty on her behalf during a quick appearance at the High Wycombe Magistrates’ Court. Adding a bonus twist worthy of a blooper reel, fellow Harry Potter alum Zoë Wanamaker—known for playing Madam Hooch—was reportedly banned the same day. Apparently, broomsticks aren’t the only thing speeding these days. So now, the woman who once played the cleverest witch of her age will be hoofing it like the rest of us—or at least catching a ride. Perhaps someone should tell her Audi S3 to take a nap. In the meantime, if you're in the UK and you spot a stylish pedestrian who looks a lot like Hermione Granger, just remember: she’s not being eco-friendly—she’s grounded.
Udderly Ridiculous: Subaru Cowspiracy Finally Solved. In a mooving tale of bovine branding that’s left Subaru fans scratching their heads and dairy farmers deeply confused, the automaker has finally spilled the milk on why cows have been mysteriously popping up in the most unexpected corners of their promotional material — from cryptic website Easter eggs to cow-themed backgrounds in vehicle configurators, and even showing up as plush toys at auto shows like some kind of cud-chewing sleeper agent from Farmville. It turns out the whole hoof-hearted phenomenon started when a Subaru web developer slipped a cow into the site just for fun, possibly after one too many milkshakes or maybe a long weekend at a petting zoo. Rather than wrangle it back into the barn, Subaru execs apparently said, “What the heck, let’s lean into it,” because nothing says “rugged AWD adventure” quite like a 1,400-pound Holstein staring deep into your soul while you configure your Crosstrek’s wheel options. From there, the cow content snowballed, with Subaru employees dropping bovines all over the digital pasture, turning the whole thing into a sort of unintentional viral campaign that’s now as much a part of the brand as symmetrical all-wheel drive and dogs driving Subaru SUVs. Fans began demanding cow swag and moo-themed merch like they were collecting sacred artifacts of the holy heifer. Now that the secret’s out and the beef has been grilled to medium rare, Subaru admits there’s no deeper meaning, no marketing masterplan, no dairy-driven symbolism — just a delightful inside joke that escaped the paddock and became a full-blown movement, proving once again that, in the age of the internet, even a random cow can steer the herd.
Pictured: The 1965 Cadillac Crest continued to feature merlettes. They were removed years later when Cadillac modernized its crest. Credit: Cadillac/Facebook.