More than three hours and two hundred miles after leaving home, a call came through on our Fusion’s SYNC system: the testing session we’d scheduled at Virginia International Raceway was canceled due to several inches of unexpected snowfall. With ambient temperatures hovering in the fifteen-degree range, and without any available track time to put Ford’s facelifted mid-sizer through its paces, how could we determine if the Fusion “Sport” lived up to the promise of it’s fashionable chrome badging?

“It’s a Jeep thing, you wouldn’t understand”. This was the vaguely condescending response I got when I queried my then-girlfriend and current wife about why in the world she would choose such an unrefined and slow mode of transportation. Surely, you can understand my point of view. I mean, the Jeep Wrangler is the ultimate, absolute antithesis of everything performance-related in the automotive world. Well, that is true so long as we are talking about road-going performance. Some, like my wife, get more excited about the prospect of slogging through mud and muck than teeter-tottering on the bare naked edge of control around a downhill decreasing-radius corner. And, for those who get their jollies in the dirt, the Wrangler Rubicon is the ultimate starting point for a true performance vehicle.

I’ll come right out and say it: It’s my parents’ fault. You see, my mom’s just a couple of inches over five feet tall and my dad’s only a bit taller than she is. But for some reason they passed genes to me resulting in me growing to 6’3″. It makes for interesting family portraits but when it comes to cars, it sucks. I grew up riding with my knees shoved in the dashboard of whatever bench-seat-equipped sedan they happened to own at the time. And now I’m given a Mazda MX-5 Miata Grand Touring to review. Genetics is a bitch.

I’ve been resisting calling Toyota “the new GM” for some time. And yet the world’s largest automaker is falling into the same traps that scuppered GM’s empire. By creating the entirely extraneous Scion “youth brand,” Toyota stole a page right out of The General’s poisoned playbook. Luxury brand reaching downwards, hoisting itself by its own petard? Lexus does as Cadillac did. Listen closely and you can hear ominous rumblings about Toyota’s declining build quality; a cancer that afflicted GM even as it soared to its zenith. And most damning of all: Toyota’s increasing portfolio of redundant, ill-conceived, poorly-executed products. Add the new Venza to that list.

The 2009 750i is the car I was expecting from BMW back in 2002. That 7 turned out to be the poster child for automotive arrogance. It introduced flame surfacing [including the Bangle butt] and iDrive. The 2002 7-Series drove me right into the arms of Mercedes. Its controls were impossible to decipher, the ergonomics were infuriating and it was truly ugly. In the face of the criticism, BMW countered that their customers were too backwards to comprehend the brilliance and innovation inherent in the design. Sales continued– until they didn’t. The new 750i is a mechanical admission of corporate guilt that offers redemption for lovers of the pre-Bangle 7-Series.

Imagine you’re looking for a $41k imported sports sedan. You want something fun to drive. Sayonara Lexus. You were traumatized by an orthodontist. Aloha to Acura’s tin grin TL. You appreciate the difference between having it and flaunting it. Auf wiedersehen BMW and Mercedes. That leaves the Audi A4 3.2 Audi and Infiniti G37 6MT. Oddly enough, I recently sampled those two exact cars. Funny how these things work out.

Walking towards the Maserati GranTurismo S, I felt like a teenager trying not to stare at a Playmate’s breasts. While the “base” GranTurismo’s elegant lines, dignified proportions and powerful stance had captivated my attention, the S dared me not to look. I know; it’s stupid. At the ripe old age of near-50, I’m supposed to have left my spoiler infatuation with the pet rock slowly starving to death in the basement. And yet, somehow, the GranTurismo’s tail made the Maser’s design pop, blending pole position with pole dancing. Yes, well, I’d just driven the base Maserati GranTurismo and found the brakes, seats and handling wanting. So I was ready to be disappointed. If you’re jump aversive, here’s the bottom line: I was and I wasn’t.

Walked into a HUMMER dealership lately? The poster child for everything wrong with the automotive industry went from a vibrant, stylish lounge for conspicuous consumption to a somber, museum-like tribute to modern architecture and failed business models. It’s a sad combination of soaring heights and eerie, uncomfortable silence. This also describes the Hummer H3T Alpha to the proverbial T: the brand’s failed promises of functionality and fashion for a premium price culminate into the worst product rollout of the 2009 model year.

Quick: name a Hyundai sports sedan. Can’t do it, can you? If there’s ever been one, I’m not aware of it. No, the late unlamented Hyundai Elantra GT doesn’t count. Even with a red “GT” on the rump, the suspension tuning decidedly prioritized ride quality over handling. Perhaps “GT” means “standard leather” in Korean? But let’s not count Hyundai out just yet; there’s no Sonata GT in the lineup at the moment. Meanwhile, for 2009, the Korean manufacturer has quietly dipped a toe into the sport sedan pool by adding a “sport suspension” to the Sonata SE. This site has deemed the Sonata—in GLS form—“a great car for people who don’t care all that much about cars.” Do firmer springs and dampers transform the midsize sedan into “a great car for people who do care about cars?”

Here are some comments you don’t normally associate with the Ford Econoline: lack of manufacturer support and repair facilities, high repair cost and crippling loss of revenue during downtime. That’s what I gleaned from a Dodge Sprinter fansite and those comments came from one of the forum’s more even-handed members. Which explains the sea of Econolines (white paint, out of state plates) on the Bayou City’s expressways after the devastation of Hurricane Ike and not a single Sprinter. So let’s check out a Regency conversion van to find the Econoline’s inherent goodness, hmm-kay?

In comparison to the Genesis sedan, the Genesis Coupe has appeared on dealer lots like a Stealth bomber sliding into Whiteman. Either Hyundai thinks their new two-door makes such a strong impression it doesn’t need a huge marketing campaign to jump-start the public imagination, or they blew their wad with the sedan. Whatever Hyundai’s intentions, the Genesis Coupe speaks for itself, surpassing its current competitors in the pony car market. (2010 Ford Mustang test to follow.) If you’re looking for a rear-wheel drive, high powered sporty car at recession friendly pricing, exodus forms on the right.

My experience running the 2005 One Lap of America in a Mercedes-Benz 190E 2.3-16/ had left me more than a little cynical about the event. The fantasy of running the “modern-day Cannonball” had been eclipsed by frustration with the quasi-time-trial, horsepower-obsessed reality that is OLOA in the modern era. Still, the competitive disease from which both I and my co-driver Brian suffered meant that we wanted to “win” the thing before we left Brock’s Big Parade for the greener pastures of real wheel-to-wheel racing. Enter former radiologist and current Mercedes-Benz tuner Satish Tummala, owner of Motorwerks in Detroit.

The General’s Chevrolet Malibu LS won this competition versus the Chrysler Sebring LX and Ford Fusion S because it’s a complete car with no manifest weaknesses. For less than $18K, I could have driven away from the Chevy dealership in the only vehicle capable of going head to head with the very best entry level cars in its class. In a prior competition, I compared the Honda Accord LX, Toyota Camry (base model), Nissan Altima 2.5 and Mazda Mazda6i Sport. Neither the dismally shameful Sebring nor the uninspired Fusion compares well to even the weakest of these Japanese models. On the other hand, this Malibu fully deserves serious consideration by cost conscious consumers.

Sitting between two highly conventional Rios on the Kia lot, the Soul Sport looks like a visitor from another planet. The Kia’s European styling not only refutes the bland mediocrity of its fellow Kias, but also challenges the toaster-oven aesthetics of its boxy competitors. At the same time, it offers a more unique approach than Honda’s low-slung Fit hatchback. That said, the Soul is more the product of a careful compromise between its competitors rather than a genuine automotive oddity. So what happens when you pick the least-compromising trim level, the Soul Sport with manual transmission? You develop a new level of appreciation for the art of compromise.

I believe that the 2009 Ford Fusion S is the most unremarkable car I have driven. Ever. When I sat down to record notes immediately after concluding my test of this blessed blandmobile, I had a hard time recalling anything about it. I got in. Transportation happened. I got out. That’s it. This car’s striking anonymity served both to prevent it from winning this comparison – not even close to defeating the Chevrolet Malibu LS. At the same time, I suppose flying under the radar preserved it from a potential loss. Actually, the Chrysler Sebring LX is so dreadful that defeating it isn’t much of a victory. So the Fusion S ingloriously falls into second place. Read on as I attempt to fill 800 words… about nothing.