My Bimmer has a name, it's M-K-Z

In a spirit that may not entirely befit this month's Germanic tradition of "Oktoberfest", I realized yesterday that, had I the money to buy a compact Saxon sport sedan, I would buy a Lincoln MKZ. I came to this realization after ascertaining that I wasn't particularly caught up on the styling of the latest C-Class, 3-Series, or Audi A4. The Lincoln has been re-worked for 2010, and now has an elegant, classic appearance both on the road and at a standstill.

The Lincoln's engineering certainly wouldn't be on part with that of the Germans, but it's nonetheless based on the Mazda 6 and thus would still be a fairly well thought out car. Equipped with AWD, the handling should be reasonable, and Ford's 3.5L Duratec V6 no doubt provides the car with more than ample power. Fully loaded ($43,700), the MKZ would be more comfortable than a similarly priced 3-Series. My only concern would be with depreciation.

To make the Lincoln MKZ really competitive, however, Ford would need to tweak it a little more. First order of business, I say, would be to make the Ford Fusion's 6-speed manual gearbox an option on every trim level. The 2.5L turbocharged I-5 Volvo engine used in the Ford Mondeo XR5 Turbo could become an option, and a sport adjustable suspension package and Brembos would be offered. The addition of these key mechanical components would transform the AWD MKZ from an attractively styled car for old people into a brilliant, high-performing sport sedan. Sure, it may not be an M5 competitor, or even an M3 competitor, but it sure could give the Saab Aero cars a run for their money. Ford has a great looking car, and the parts for a fine performance sedan. Now, they just need to put the two together and give Lincoln a little spice for the 21st century.

Shopaholic

We've recently been looking over the market in search of a new vehicle. Restrained by a small-ish budget, the logical thing to do -- and this has been suggested, mind -- would be to purchase a brand-new, base-spec Hyundai Accent. Cost: $9,990.

Well, a Shetland pony econobox isn't really my cup of tea, thank you. Surfing Kijiji and Auto Trader Online, I've found a number of swank-looking, European cars that would fit the bill perfectly. Moreover, they're all cheaper than the Hyundai.

First up is a lovely 1997 Saab 9000 CSE. The asking price is $3,000, and this marvel of Swedish engineering comes fully loaded with a 2.3 L I-4 turbo, tan leather interior, natural wood accents, and the Aero wheel package. The 9000 is a marvelous car, one of my personal favorites, and so I'm sure that, despite the 219,000 kilometers on the clock, this Saab would be a great car for years to come.

Being a Saab fan, I've also scouted out a near-mint condition 1999 9-5 Wagon (with the V-6) and a lovely, silver 2001 9-5 sedan. These were both in the $6,000 range.

Or of course, I could look into a BMW. The Ultimate Driving Machine I found was a 1997 BMW 318i, finished in steel blue with tan leather interior and fitted with the 5-speed manual gearbox. Asking price: $5,000. Condition: excellent. Altogether, not a bad deal.

Staying on the German end of things, there's the Volkswagen Passat. A top-end Passat is as luxurious as a mid-range Saab or BMW. The 2002 GLX V6 model I found, finished in a gorgeous candy-apple red metallic and sporting an immaculate black leather interior, was being marketed at an asking price of $6,500. The mileage wasn't low (somewhere in the 170,000 km range, if I recall correctly), but the VW in question would likely be a good purchase. The V6 was more reliable than the 1.8t, which is also an important consideration.

And how can we forget Mercedes? In this case, the M-B in question was a champagne-colored 1999 C230 Kompressor with 189,000 kilometers on the clock. The dealer didn't list the price, but the Benz seemed like a tight package, and thus I feel it is worth looking into.

Going back to Scandanavia, we find a rather basic 1998 Volvo S70, finished in British Racing Green with beige cloth interior and listed at $5,200. The mileage was in the 150,000 km range, but the ad said that the car had lots of new parts (maybe this isn't a good thing?) and the body and interior both looked very clean. Plus, I've always liked the S70. It was a better looking car than the 850, and I always think of it as the last of the real Volvos.

And of course, if I really wanted to penny-pinch, I also found a snazzy 1994 Saab 9000 CSE listed for just $2,500. Sure, it's old, but the 9000, as I've said before and as I'll say again, it a real tank of a car. Worth looking into? I think so. That's all.

On Beauty

I often tell people that I'd never buy a car based on looks alone. At the same time, I'd never buy a car that I felt was ugly.

Frequently, a company will build a real stunner of a car. When it's released for sale, the car is shown to be unrealiable, or a bad value for your money. No one buys it, and the beauty of design fades into the pages of history.

Today, I'll ignore the usual talk of build quality and ride integrity and fuel efficiency. No, this is a strict triumph of form over function. I'll be listing in a pretty concise manner what I feel are some of the most dazzling and gorgeous cars built in the past thirty or forty years. Occasionally, I'll rationalize my choices. Not very often, mind.

• Lotus Esprit, 1976 - 1986: Giuguaro's "folded paper" sports car spawned a slew of cheap copy-cats from other companies, but the earliest Esprits were, and are, stunningly beautiful, simple cars. Bond drove one twice, and took an Esprit under water in The Spy Who Loved Me.
• Maserati Quattroporte, 2004 - present: The latest Quattroporte is now a few years old, but I feel it remains one of the finest looking four door cars on the market today. The Quattroporte looks particularly good in GTS trim, finished in black or a dark chocolate brown.
• Aston Martin DB7, 1994 - 2003: Jeremy Clarkson praised it on Top Gear, and the DB7 is already widely recognized as being a classic in its own time. Sure, the chassis was a little old, but I personally far prefer the eye candy that is the DB7 to the sheet metal of its DB9 successor -- which, fairly, isn't bad looking either.
• Saab 900 (hatchback coupe models), 1979 - 1993: Not everyone will agree with me on this one, but, being a Saab fan, I can't help but love the awkward profile of the classic 900. An SPG 900 finished in black or silver looks great on the roady even today, and the status of these Saabs as 1980s cult cars should ensure that they'll be regarded as classics a few short years down the road.
• Chevrolet Corvette C2 (especially after 1958): I'm not fond of the Stingray, or the C4, or most Corvettes for that matter, but I do have a soft spot for the original 'Vette. I saw a silver-blue '58 model at a car show recently and couldn't get over how beautifully organic the design was.
• Alfa Romeo 159, 2005 - present: This is arguably the finest looking small luxury car around today. Sadly, we can't get it in America. The 159 is now four years old, but there's still something taut and agressive and a tad enigmatic about its exterior design. Win.
• Alfa Romeo Spider, 1966 - 1993: This is a car I'll always like the looks of. Immortalized by Dustin Hoffman, it was on sale for twenty seven years and even the 1993 model now looks better than most, more modern '93 models built by other car companies.
• Bentley Continental R, 1991 - 2003: All big Bentleys actually, but I like the Conti R in particular because you get the feeling, just by looking at it, that it's the kind of car that could bust through the Berlin Wall and still look good afterward. Perhaps even more magnificent is the convertible Conti, the Bentley Azure, which remains on sale today.

Of course, there are many others. The original Mustangs, a whole wack of Ferraris, the Citroen DS, a few Jaguars, the original Volvo C70, the Rover SD1, the current MB C-Class, the BMW Z8, the boat-tailed Buick Rivieras, and the classic Porsche 911(s) are all beautiful in my eyes.

The question is, what do you think?

Custom spin

Recently, I saw a white Lincoln Mark VIII coupe fitted with 20" chrome spinners. The spinners had all the taste and elegance one would expect to find in a Wal-Mart car add-on, and made the gold-plated Roller seen in Dubai a few months back look positively tasteful and understated. I don't like customized cars, and I see too many of them around for my liking.

Another custom job I saw recently -- actually, horridly, I may have been factory-spec -- was a splendidly awful GMC Sierra finished in black with chrome door handles, rims, and a grille the size of France. It had xenon headlights, which I don't believe are available on the regular Sierra. I'll get back to you on that one.

All this raises a question: Why do people customize their cars? The Sierra is a capable pickup (see "Home on the Ranger" for my full take on that issue) and the Lincoln Mark VIII was an elegant, luxurious buy in its day. The cars I saw were fine without $15 bargain rims or body kits. But I'm not going to berate tuners and boy-racers, serious or otherwise. No, today, I'm going to plan out what I'd do if I were given a $10,000 budget with which to buy and customize a used car (labor costs not taken into consideration.) Bear with me.

Task one would be to find a suitable car. Obviously, I'd want my custom ride to be a good car before I got at it. A quick search on AutoTrader reveals that, if I had a little money to spend randomly on a (very) used car, I could get a well-maintained 1995 BMW 525i and have change left from $3,000. Not a bad start, if you ask me.

Now at about this point, you'll be saying, why not an M3? Well, I like bigger cars, and the 525i is quite capable in and of itself. So I go out and buy the 525i. This is purely fictional, mind. I'm left with $7,005 and a lovely, 14-year old 6-cylinder German sport sedan. What changes shall I make?

I'm going to start by putting new headlights on the Bimmer. Now, I'm not sure about this, but I think aftermarket HID lights are illegal where I live. This is just fictional anyway, so I'll throw a pair on my proverbial 5-Series. The conversion kit and high/low bulbs, rated at 8000 K, will set me back $165.

Funds remaining: $6,840.

Now, braking is important to me. I like to be able to stop. I'm sure the 525i has great brakes, but we have money to burn, so why not up the ante a little? I'm trying to stay as close to stock as possible. So let's take our brake rotors (front and back) from the E34 BMW M5. These cross-drilled Brembos will cost me $715 for the materials alone. Worth it, though. No idea what the pads will cost, don't even wanna know, but I'll guestimate that they'll be another $350 of parts. That brings my materials spending for brakes up to $1,065.

Funds remaining: $5,775.

I'll need some rims to accommodate those big new brakes. Staying true to form, I'll invest in some M rims. There's no need to pay thousands of dollars for new wheels here, as a quick look on Kijiji reveals that a set of E34 BMW M5 alloys can be had for as little as $1,000. Check.

Funds remaining: $4,775.

Now, to the engine bay. A scan of the online BMW community's blogging activity reveals that a popular engine modification on the 5-Series comes in the form of the addition of a high-performance air filter and NJK iridium spark plugs. This apparently will give the I-6 a slight horsepower boost and will improve the car's acceleration. Cost: about $750.

Remaining funds: $4, 025.

Handling and suspension are important things in any car. This is especially true in a modified used BMW. The next investment will be an Eibach Pro Sportline suspension kit. These racing-grade springs will lower the car ever so slightly (I don't like lowering, but that's beside the point) and will set me back a clean $270. Taking that further, I'll also buy Eibach's Pro-Damper kit, which is rather more expensive and will drain my budget of $529. These aren't even the most expensive suspension kits, not by a mile.

Remaining funds: $3,226.

When we replaced the decimated exhaust system on my 1995 Saab 900S, the car became noticeably peppier. I'll do the same with my make-believe Ultimate Driving Machine. Magnaflow Performance Exhaust lists the exhaust system for the E39 M5 as costing $1800. For the previous-gen 525i, I'm willing to bet it will cost about $1000.

Remaining funds: $2,226.

For a thorough tune-up of the engine and moving part systems, excluding the purchase of any of the parts we've already covered, let's be prepared to pay $750. Oh, let's make the $726. The math will be easier.

Remaining funds: $1,500.

Of that $1,500, I'll spend part of it getting the interior leather reconditioned, part of it touching up any rusty or otherwise damaged bodywork, and part on a new stereo (seeing as my '95 525i doesn't have a CD player.) And there you have it. Budget ten grand and get yourself an M5, but an M5 with the fuel-sipping inline-six and without the body kit. And with the 525i badge on the back.

I'd spend my ten grand on something newer, or on something really classic like an old XJS or a Cadillac Allante or an early Miata. But if you're mechanically minded and have the time, why not? Auto Trader awaits. Get your parts suppliers on the line, would you?

Which car are you?

Not long ago, I took a Facebook quiz entitled, "Which car are you." I am, it transpires, an Alfa Romeo 8C Spyder. My antithesis is a Toyota Highlander Hybrid. Now, I'm not sure if this is entirely fair or accurate. True, I drool over the 8C, but I recognize that the Highlander has more merits than most mid-sized SUVs. Beyond that, the results of the quiz make me sound like a supremely impractical, illogical person. I'm not a hopeless romantic. I'm not a utopian and I don't like goats' milk or asparagus. The Alfa, of course, is the happy dreamer of the car world.

The Highlander Hybrid may sound like an appealing choice for people actually enjoy drinking goats' milk, but beneath the hybrid badge is an extraordinarily practical car. The Highlander has a solid reputation for reliability and build quality. It's good in snow and capable on the sunny open road. It can take your kayak and your Saint Bernard, or it can take you without much embarrassment to your office Christmas party. Sure, the Highlander may not be as fun as the Alfa, and it certainly doesn't have the same cache, but it's also cheaper and a much more reasonable all-around purchase.
So why was I the Alfa?

I do like to have a little fun now and then. I enjoy being a tad ridiculous and trifle unreliable. I like style, but believe that truly stylish things are a little odd when compared to the competition. I do, sadly, care what other people think of me. This is likely what made Facebook categorize me as an Alfa, rather than say, a Hyundai Accent. Now, you must realize there are a few things that I'd like to mention that Facebook apparently didn't care about when I took the test. I'm loyal and dedicated. The unreliability is simply due to the fact that I have a lot on the go. I have lofty goals which I'm typically too lazy to reach. I get sidetracked easily, but when I do a job I do it well. I " [...] give the other fella hell." Speed and efficiency matter, but I think it's also important to take in the view now and then. Tradition is on the chart somewhere too. I'm a little old-fashioned.

So what do I think I am? I don't really identify with coupes or convertibles, honestly. A nice sport sedan, maybe? Maybe. Maybe I'm a Jaguar XF, or even an XJ. Perhaps a Saab 9-3 fits the bill, or even a 5-Series. I could also see myself as one of the more basic models of the Cadillac CTS, or even something much, much less expensive, like a Saturn Astra XR or an Impreza or a Matrix.

Volkswagen Passat CC. That's it. I don't know why, it just feels right. Which doesn't make sense, because I don't really like the CC. The big question is, what are you?

Home on the Ranger

Recently, while on a car dealership lot, I noticed that brand-new Ford Ranger pickups were being sold for under $13,000 CDN. I think this is quite impressive. You can get a Nissan Versa, or a Kia, for that kind of money, but not much else. Not for a moment will I pretend to know much about trucks, but I do know that, regardless of the fact that the Ranger's running gear has been around since the early nineties, $13 large is a bargain for a new pickup.

I imagine part of the reason the Rangers I saw were so cheap was because the were fairly basic models. Perhaps they had manual gearboxes, wind-down windows, and no CD players. I don't have an issue with this. If I were to go out and buy a truck, I would want a no-nonsense workhorse. No Lincoln Mark LT for me, thank you. When you're out in a field or hauling two-by-fours back to your cabin, you're doing work. You don't need leather seats, or GPS, or a moonroof, or satellite radio. You need simple, hard-to-kill, honest to God engineering.

The original Range Rover was a simple vehicle. It was great for serious off-roading, as were early Jeeps. Land Rover in particular has gotten rather decadent over the years, to the point that you can now get a Range Rover that costs more than an S-Class and has as much standard technology as the USS Enterprise. This doesn't mean the new Range Rovers aren't awesome SUVs. If they weren't, people wouldn't buy them. They aren't as utilitarian as their predecessors, however, and, as a result, most latter-day Rovah' buyers would never take their beloved HSE Sport down the Rubicon trail. Similarly, I doubt there's a Lincoln Mark LT out there that has ever hauled around a load of gravel in its bed.

Due to the wear and tear a truck takes, it should be simple and easy to fix. No paddle shifters or eLSD systems here. This is where I find the Ranger most appealing. Sure, it hasn't changed to much since 1995, but that's okay. It's simple and basic and tough. It could pull any small load I threw at it, and could carry around a chest of drawers or a couch or a dead cow if I wanted it to. If a wing mirror got snapped off by a tree trunk, I wouldn't care, because my Ranger wouldn't have set me back $50,000 at the dealership. Sure, I wouldn't have a CD player, but I could always use a radio transmitter on my iPod, which would give me access to 4 or 5 thousand songs, rather than the 2o tracks or so you can get on the average Bon Jovi album. If it got too hot, I'd roll down the window and get some exercise in the process. No harm done there, and the environment's better off without A/C anyway.

Sadly, Ford has been talking for a while about killing off the Ranger. This is unfortunate, because not only is the F-150 a much more expensive truck, I is also loaded up with more chrome than a casino in Vegas. Most big pickups I see have xenon headlights and leather interior seating and the kind of alloy wheels you'd expect to find on an Audi S6. They're not vehicles you'd want to take into the back forty. Neither would you want a deceased cow in the bed of your $40,000 Silverado. I mean, would you want a dead cow in your $40,000 C-Class? No, neither would I.

I know the Ranger is smaller than the big trucks. I know it has less torque and a smaller engine and that it can't carry half the population of Wyoming in its cab. That doesn't really faze me. A truck should be designed for grunt work. For moving stuff around, and for pulling out old tree stumps. The truck industry needs to go back to the basics. I'm not going to be buying a truck any time soon, but if I am ever in the market for one, I'll be looking for something cheap and indestructible. Like the Rangers I saw for sale the other day. I doubt I'm alone with that sentiment. The automakers should keep that in mind.

Small isn't always beautiful

The news came out recently that the Ford Focus was the #1 choice for buyers receiving money for Cash for Clunkers trade-ins. This is most depressing. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against the Focus, really. As they say, don't judge a book by its cover. I'm about to do just that. You see, the Focus is, to my eyes, a not particularly good looking car. My reaction, upon seeing the current generation for the first time back in 2007, was "what were they thinking?" Ford has improved things, mind. The faux side vents are gone, thankfully. The divisive front fascia, however, remains. The old Focus looked better than the one on the market now. The international Focus, which is the one available in Europe, often recognized as being on e of the best looking cars in its class. A look through the reader posts on various car blogs reveals that most online gearheads are less than impressed the Focus marketed to Americans. They berate the exterior looks, the interior quality, the price, the driving feel, and the overall engineering of the car. I've never driven the new Focus, so I'm not about to pass judgment. What I am about to do is take a look at what else the C4C buyers could've opted to buy.

The base MSRP of a 2009 Focus sits a little to the north of $15,000. That makes the Focus a rather good deal, which no doubt explains some of its C4C success. A similarly equipped Honda Civic (in DX trim fitted with an automatic gearbox), retails for nearly $10,000 more. Due to this, and despite its good reputation and history of being a strong seller, the Civic cannot be truly considered a Focus alternative. The Toyota Corolla, which sells for about $16,000 (in GS trim with an automatic gearbox) is a perennial favorite of small car buyers and is actually more of a fuel-sipper than the Ford. Compared to the Ford, Honda, and Toyota, the Mitsubishi Lancer is thirsty, averaging 22 mpg in the city and 28 mpg on the highway. To its credit, however, the Lancer is also (narrowly) the cheapest of the four and is equipped with a CVT, which should make it an appealing choice for many economy car buyers.

Of course, there are more than just four small cars on the market. On paper, at least the Kia Spectra LX is a very appealing choice. It undercuts the price of the Focus by more than $1,000, and is classified by many sources as a midsized car. It comes with a generous warranty. Beyond this, it is important to note that Kia is also beginning to shed its undesirable image as a maker of bargain basement economy cars. Personally, however, I wouldn't buy the Spectra. It's gas mileage is worse than that of the Focus, and I'm not caught up on its looks (I'd rather have the Ford.) The Consumer Guide, however, gave the Spectra a 60/110, which is better than the Focus and many other small cars. If you're on a budget, want a solid small car, and don't care too much about looks or cache, the Spectra just might be for you.

The Chevrolet Cobalt has been much maligned since it was first introduced in 2005. Despite this, I see Cobalts everywhere. They're a big hit in my part of the world, and are definitely bigger sellers around here than the Civic or Corolla. The Cobalt LS is almost identical in price to the Focus and the Lancer, but comes with a manual transmission -- not that I mind that, of course. The Cobalt is well equipped, and is one of the most efficient cars I've written about today. It may not be a Maserati Quattroporte, but it's not exactly bad looking, especially if ordered with a nice pair of alloy wheels and a tasteful spoiler. The Cobalt, with its so-so running gear and questionable interior isn't for me, but it's still worth looking at, especially if you want to buy a domestic small car.

The Subaru Impreza 2.5i sedan is the cheaper cousin of the WRX STi, a long-running boy racer favorite. It just came off of a fresh re-design in 2008, and, in my opinion, is one of the best looking small cars. It's not cheap -- a basic sedan with an automatic gearbox will set you back more than $18,000 -- but it comes with AWD, Subaru's reputation for quality and solidity, and the promise of acceptance amongst the petrol-head in-crowd. Where the Subaru does fall short, however, is in the efficiency department. It's average city and highway EPA rating of 23 mpg is worse than that of the Lancer. Of course, this thirstiness can also be seen as but the price paid for safety: the Subaru may not be a fuel sipper, but it's also the only car mentioned here that comes with standard all-wheel drive.

Another car worth considering is the Hyundai Elantra. I'll be honest, I'm not a fan of the Elantra's bulbous looks, but the current incarnation of the car is generally regarded as being a high-quality product. It's cheap in price (about the same as the Kia for a mid-range model), but is recongized as being well built and well engineered. Like the re-designed 2010 Mazda3, the Elantra is a solid small car worth taking a look at. I'm not really saying the Focus is bad. It's certainly competitive in its class, as the C4C results demonstrate. I'm just saying that it's important to know a little about all the cars you might consider buying. Personally, I would buy the Subaru. My second choice would be the Mitsubishi. That's just me though. I'm a spirited car lover. I would want something fun to drive, stylish, and a little wild. If you're more sensible and restrained, you might be more interested in one of the other cars mentioned here. If you have a generous budget, I would without hesitation recommend the Civic. Buying a car is a deeply personal choice. Find what's right for you. If the Focus "feels right", carpe diem.

Oxymoronic trends and where to find them

One of these days, a team at General Motors is likely to sit down and design a "four door coupe." This strange moniker is used to denote a sedan with a low roof and a cramped, 2 + 2 seating arrangement. A stylish but impractical car, in other words. The Mercedes CLS gave rise to this fad. Volkswagen has followed lead, Audi is about to, BMW was going to, and Hyundai is working on it. The Big Three, strangely, haven't yet tried their luck in the four door coupe segment. Which takes me back to GM.

When the Yankee 2 + 2 family-luxo-midsized-sport sedan finally does come along, the trend will have passed. But the said car will come, eventually. I don't doubt this at all. It will, likely, however, be disappointing and dull. Mercedes was a trailblazer with the CLS. GM will simply follow the lead of the Europeans. Rather than using say, the Zeta platform, or the Epsilon II to underpin its four door coupe, GM will probably take a car like the Impala or the Cadillac STS, squash the roof a little, throw some 20" rims on, and put it on the market as a new product. I'm not saying it has to happen this way. I'm simply basing my prediction on what's come out of Detroit in the past. If GM wants to build a four door coupe, they'll have to design it from the ground up. The CLS doesn't share any explicitly visible body panels with, say, the E-Class. Similarly, an American CLS sold under the Chevy or Cadillac name just wouldn't fly if it had, let's say, the doors from a Malibu, the hood and front quarter panels from an STS, a trunk lid from the Buick Lucerne, and an instrument panel ripped off of a Grand Prix. These aren't necessarily bad cars, but parting them out to make a new model, especially a new model that would likely be marketed as a premium product, seems, to me, ridiculous.

Now, if I were a product guru at GM, I know how I would develop this new car. I would use the Zeta platform to underpin the four door coupe, but that's where the similarity with the G8 would end. The engine wouldn't be a V8, it would be a modern V6 or I6, or maybe even an inline 4. The body panels would be similar to those found on the CLS and the Volkswagen Passat CC, but they would be different enough that, at a distance, the car could be recognized as a GM product. The interior of a four door coupe is cramped, so comfort and quality would be of utmost importance. No hard plastic panels or faux brushed aluminum accents would find their way into this cockpit. Soft leather with metallic and polished wood accents would make any prospective buyer feel like he or she were in a Bentley. Outside, there would be no fake ram-air vents and no ridiculous plastic body cladding. GM wouldn't call the car a "5-Series killer." They would call it a Chevrolet, and it would compete with the Camry or the Avalon. GM needs to aim high if they are to build a segment leading midsized car. They also need to set themselves apart. Four door coupes are impractical, but they do attract the attention of the fashion-tuned buyer.

Of course, none of this will ever happen. Under government ownership, GM will sell Daewoos and encourage everyone to "Buy American." Oh, what a contradictory world it is in which we live.

To have and to hold

Being a musician, I played for a wedding today. It got me thinking. About cars. I know, matrimony and torque seldom fit together too well. But there are exceptions to every rule.

To wit: Remember, back last year, when there was talk of a merger between Chrysler and GM? I like to call that merger that never was a "shotgun marriage." It would've been a union that, under ideal circumstances, wouldn't have been necessary. It would've been an act to save face at the last moment for both parties involved. The shotgun of bankruptcy, so to speak, was lying on the table. Of course, we all know the said merger fell through. But what if things had worked out a little differently? What kind of products would we be looking at, in 2011 or 2012 and beyond, if the Chrysler LLC had become General Motors' Chrysler Division?

I'll look into my crystal ball and find out.

Buick would likely have been given the boot. Chrysler sells similar cars at the same price point. The 300C, maybe, would've eventually been moved over to the G8's Zeta platform. Admittedly, a luxury G8 with a Hemi would be pretty cool. And the Sebring? Well, maybe it would find its niche as a rebadged, up-market Saturn Aura. You never know.

Dodge, like Pontiac, has a performance history. Perhaps the Charger would share the Zeta architecture. Ever heard of the desultory G6? It has good bones, the same ones that you can find in the Malibu. Call it the Avenger, or the Intrepid, or whatever, and give it a gun sight grille. Rebadging supreme. Sell the Ram as a sport truck, I see those around all the time. Let GMC handle the farm truck business. Not that I care too much, honestly.

Use the LX platform and make it into a good, full-size Cadillac. Comes from Mercedes, after all. Extend the wheelbase (already been done, it's called the Walter P. Chrysler Executive Series) and call it the Fleetwood. Or FTS, using Caddy's new nomenclature. Works out decently, I'd say.

But of course, this will never happen now. Europe will get the Alfa Charger and we'll get the Plymouth Punto. The Dodge Viper would be joined by a Panda and a Spider. We'll get an Italian Imperial and a Neapolitan New Yorker. Not that I have a problem with any of this of course. After all, Fiat owns Ferrari. Who knows, maybe we'll be seeing a 599-based Laser or an Enzo-inspired Cordoba. Unrealistic? Sure. But keep this in mind: back when Iacocca was in control, who would've guessed that the Pentastar would ever end up under European ownership? Exactly. Now bring on the paddle shifters.

Why the Solstice must live

I can't lie. I love the Pontiac Solstice. This is unusual, because I usually have the same level of affection for American cars as I have for, say, bananas. Honestly though, how can you not love the Solstice? I mean, it's cute! Sure, there's a little too much part-sharing, and no MX-5 or VW Cabrio fan would ever buy one, but you can't deny that the Solstice (more so than the Saturn Sky, at least so I think) is a very appealing little car. Which is unfortunate, because Pontiac is dead in the water. The Vibe is the Toyota Matrix, so that legacy will live. The G8, sadly will survive only in Australia. The Solstice, however, will no longer be available to anyone, anywhere. This is a shame, which brings me to my next point.

Back in the 1980s, Buick made a sexy little car called the Reatta. It wasn't a huge success, but it still commands a loyal if modest following. It had a touch-screen CRT dash. Now THAT is classy.

Well, I think it's Reatta time again. GM ought to sell the Solstice as the Buick Reatta, trim the front fascia up a bit, and luxurize (is that a word?) the interior. Abracadabra! We now present you with Buick's new, stylin' ragtop coupe. The trick would be to remind people as much as possible that the new Buick is indeed the Solstice by any other name. This does go against traditional marketing wisdom, I'll give that, but here's the thing: people like the Solstice. I'm not the only one out there who thinks it'd be a cute car. This would be good for both the Solstice (it would live) and for Buick (it may attract customers who aren't retired.)

The Solstice isn't even going to hurt GM's CAFE standing. It's a fuel miser, which should make the auto-gurus in Washington happy. No other company makes a small, traditional luxurious roadster that's even remotely afforable. The closest thing to the new Reatta would be the Volvo C70. Arguably, the Volkswagen Eos would also be a competitor. As the new Buick would be pricier and more upscale than the Miata, Mazda's sporty offering would no longer be a worry for GM. If you ask me, this is a super idea. Buick: meet Solstice. Solstice: meet your new, elderly parent.

I wish

It's all doom and gloom at Mercury these days. Actually, it's been that way for a decade. There's talk of an up-market Focus and not much else. The brand has been close to the automotive Grim Reaper a few times, but instead he headed on over to GM and took Oldsmobile and Pontiac to the morgue. Mercury offers, in terms of car models, the Milan, which no one cares about, and the Grand Marquis, which is the closest thing to a Nimitz-class carrier ship on the market today. Hopeless, you say? Redundant? One argument I've heard ad nauseum is that Ford should follow the lead of the Japanese companies and offer only two brands. I disagree. Mercury has a future, but that future isn't in small cars. It isn't in SUVs or crossovers or electric cars either.

Hear me out.

Remember the Merkur? It was a sales disaster, as we all know, but that was more of a marketing and perception problem than anything else. The Ford Scorpio was a good car, and thousands of Europeans bought it in the '80s and '90s. Ford still makes some great cars overseas, but they seem reluctant to bring them here. If Allan Mulally were to call me up tomorrow and put me in charge of Mercury, I'd bring in some big changes ASAP.

In Australia, Ford sells a popular car called the Falcon. It's a little bigger than the Fusion we get here, but, unlike the Fusion/Milan/MKZ/Mazda6, it's rear-wheel drive. Which means, of course, that with a little work it could become a decent sporting sedan. Ford doesn't make a true sports sedan right now. None of the big three do, to be honest (G8/CTS/300C/Charger fanboys, don't kill me!) If Ford brought the FG Falcon sold in Oz to North America and sold it as, say, the Mercury Comet (good name there, lots of heritage behind it), cars like the Nissan Maxima and the TSX would have some honest competition. Bring over the Falcon XR6 with its 4.0L inline-6 and 6-speed manual gearbox, and we'd have a veritable 4-door Mustang on our hands. The Falcon XR6 sells for $41,190 AUD, which is equivalent to about $34,000 here. With a few luxury goodies to satisfy those who appreciate the finer things in life, and with its muscular I-6 left intact, that XR6 from the southern hemisphere would make one helluva Mercury. What's more, the Falcon is a pretty car. With a waterfall grilled and the occasional, well-placed chrome accent, it would look great in a comparo with the new Maxima, or even with a Volvo S60 R.

The Falcon, of course, would be but the Genesis of a new life for Mercury. The Mustang, with some softened, elegant exterior sculpting and a luxurious cockpit, would make a fantastic Cougar or a Marauder even. The other day, I photoshopped the nose of an '02 Marauder onto the front of an '08 Mustang. It didn't look half bad, to be honest. There's potential here. Basically, what I'm saying is that Ford should make Mercury into a niche-brand, like GM was going to do with Pontiac. Sports sedans and maybe a nimble coupe would be the order of the day, Euro-style. There'd be no V8s, much less chrome, and no automatic would ever roll off a dealer's lot. Everything would be rear-wheel drive, understated, and tuned simultaneously for performance and efficiency.

Sadly, this is basically the exact opposite of what Ford wants to do with Mercury right now. Everything we hear from Dearborn re. Mercury these days is all about luxury small cars and efficiency. All very well, but let's put it this way: would I buy a Mercury Fiesta? No. Would I buy an RWD Falcon XR6 with a Mercury badge and an angry inline-6? Of course I would. There are lots of economy cars around. If you want to buy an upscale small car, you buy an Audi A3, or a Volvo C30, or a Mercedes B-Class, or a 1-Series. You see what I'm getting at? If you want to buy an agile, fun-to-drive, RWD American car that isn't a gas-hog, you buy a .... ? Well, you buy a 3-Series, because there's no domestic that fits the bill. With its current strategy for Mercury, Ford will boost its image but attract few buyers. With my strategy, it will boost its image and become the idol of gearheads the world over. Allan Mulally, give me a call, would you?

Reviewed: 1993 SAAB 9000 CS 2.3

This will be the first, and certainly not the last, time I choose to expound my automotive feelings here. Today, I'll be talking about the SAAB 9000. Or, as I prefer to call it, the finest executive sedan ever that wasn't a BMW. The 9000 was launched in the mid-1980s. SAAB collaborated with Fiat, Alfa Romeo, and Lancia on its development, and, as a result, the Swedish beast is a not-so-distant cousin of cars like the Alfa Romeo 164 and the Lancia Thema. The 9000 even looks a little like its Italian brethren, if viewed from the side. But don't get me wrong: this sedan is as Scandanavian as ABBA or a fjord.

The 9000 is an incredibly solid car on the road. I recently drove a 2007 Ford Fusion SEL and was astonished at how marshmallowy it first, especially at lower speeds. For a 4100-lb. sedan, the SAAB is also astonishingly agile. Tight corners are never a problem, and parallel parking is a task accomplished without a second thought (or Lexus' park assist technology.) Yes, I'm correct in saying that the SAAB weighs in on the more distant side of two tons. That makes it an extraordinarily heavy car, which would leave one to imagine that it'd be just a tad underpowered. The 2.3L naturally-aspirated model I drive, which is fitted (unfortunately) with an automatic gearbox, is incredibly energetic. At superhighway speeds, the 9000's 4-cylinder powerplant spins at about 2200 rpm. That's impressive: another car I drive often, a so-so 2002 Saturn L-Series wagon with a 2.2L inline-4 and a 5-speed manual gearbox, hits 2500 rpm at about 55 mph and runs just above 2600 at 60 mph. Of course, the Saturn is an economy car; the SAAB is a European sports sedan. But here's the thing: the SAAB is a 1993. And it performs better than almost any newer car I've ever driven! That's incredible, I should say, that a 16-year-old vehicle with 250,000 miles on the clock should handle the road as if it just rolled off the dealer's lot a few days back. Of course, there is one area in which Trollhatten's finest shows its age: when you start the 9000 (and this problem has only come up recently), the engine complains and shakes a little. Sometimes, it'll stall, like a 1990 Chrysler Daytona driven by a 16-year old would in the middle of an intersection. We think this happens because the fuel injectors are starting to fail. But hey, if a fuel injector goes at 250,000 miles, nobody's going to complain too much. Besides, it's a SAAB, not a Toyota. You buy a SAAB because it's exciting and fun to drive, yet also serious, restrained, and, usually, reliable. And, naturally, a touch suave.

Driving the 9000 is like eating a smooth Swiss chocolate. It's luxurious, yet it never gets boring and never offers the driver the same kind of vanilla experience that would be offered up by a Lexus or a Cadillac. Not that I have anything against Lexus or Cadillac, of course. The SAAB's interior was designed when Reagan was President, and yet it looks and feels modern and intuitive. The dashboard doesn't follow the old-money luxury feel that one would find in, say, a Jaguar XJ6, but it does give the driver the feeling that he or she is flying an airplane. The gentle curve of the relatively-plain black plastic control panel and the impressive (and deceptive) complexity of the wall of command switches can, if you squint really hard, fool you into thinking that you've not bought a car, but a fighter jet. The supportive and elegant seats, which in my car are face with Elmo (made for SAAB!) leather, wouldn't be out of place in a BMW or Audi. The backseat is about the same size as Maryland, which is nice if you have long-legged passengers, and the trunk is, well, commodious. A bicycle, with the front tire removed, can fit easily into the SAAB, providing the rear seats are folded down.

In short, the 9000 is a capable performance sedan that's not only fast and agile but luxurious and practical. It ages well too: I've had more than a few folks mistake it for a new car! Just for the sake of comparison, I think it's safe to say that, if you bought a mid '90s Seville, LHS, or Continental, nobody with seeing eyes would view it as a 2009 model. And the 9000 is cheap too, thanks to SAAB's unfortunate used resale values. The 9000 I drive was purchased in 2005 with 90,000 miles on the odometer. The price, at that time: $4,500 CDN. If you're interested in a used luxury sedan, but have a limited budget, I'd recommend looking for a well-equipped '96 or '97 9000. If you find an Aero model, with the turbo and 5-speed manual, go for it. Otherwise, the base CS (mine) or up-level CSE will be just fine. Sure, the SAAB lacks the cache or performance specs of an M5, but honestly, who really needs a V-10? And, more to the point, who can afford to run one? The SAAB's peppy I-4 returns fuel consumption figures in the mid-20s. Which, of course, calls us to raise one final question: why would you ever buy anything else?