The cop spec Dodge Charger is a high-mileage mule for first responders who take that “first” bit seriously. As any pre-pubescent male will tell you, this “race to the scene of the crime and/or chase the bad guy in my bad ass American sedan” bit sits right at the top of the list of “why I want to be a cop when I grow up.” In fact, it’s so deeply grained in the male psyche that starting-up the cop spec Dodge Charger forced me to fight an overwhelming urge to crank, stomp and spin the beast. I swear I didn’t.

I sometimes get sentimental for the Good Old Days, a bygone era when gas was cheap (and the good stuff was called Ethyl), back seats were the ticket to romance, and tailfins were a mark of distinction, rather than bad taste. Back in the day, the coolest metal was Detroit born-and-bred, bearing real nameplates that paid homage to fast animals and faraway places and auto races, not to alphanumeric jumbles inspired by IRS tax forms. It was during one of these recent waves of nostalgia that I found myself looking forward to spending some quality time flogging one of America’s last remaining full-size touring sedans, the Grand Prix. That is, until I drove one.

My initial reaction to the 2008 Dodge Grand Caravan: “What were you guys thinking?” The new minivan’s boxy, big-nosed exterior flies in the face of two decades of design evolution. The equally artless interior is awash in plastic that looks as hard as it feels and feels as hard as it looks. But then, while driving one, it hit me: Chrysler is targeting men. Not metrosexuals. Not pistonheads. They’re looking to lure manly men: the kind of guys who buy pickup trucks (real pickups, not the ones with fancy trimmings). Aesthetically as well as functionally, the new Grand Caravan is the work truck of minivans.

If you time-traveled back to 1964 and told a muscle car buyer that his ride would be a respected classic 40 years hence, he’d call you crazier than Khrushchev. Muscle cars were fun on the cheap. You got what you didn’t pay for:  nonexistent handling, pathetic drum brakes, two and three speed automatic transmissions and efficiency measured in gallons per mile (which was no biggie at the time). Thirty years later, Chrysler and Dodge are leading the charge down muscle car memory lane. Until the Chevrolet Camaro appears, the Dodge Charger SRT8 Super Bee could well be the post-modern muscle car mascot. Which is what, exactly?

Life, Liberty and the Pursuit… of Acura? Infiniti? BMW? The Cadillac brand’s been sliding downmarket for so long it’s hard to know whose tailpipes they’re chasing. Back in ’02, the CTS offered genuine hope that Caddy could recapture some long lost ground. Although the Sigma-platformed mid-sizer was too small for the brand’s aging aficionados, it was a credible throw down to Japanese and German sports sedans. In a few short years, Caddy’s competition caught up– and left CTS sales in the dust. Now, a refreshed CTS returns to the fray. Is it good enough to put the deeply damaged Cadillac brand back in the running?

At the tail end of the last century, the European built, Eurozone-only Volkswagen Polo was the "Mercedes of small cars.” While the Golf/Rabbits MKIII and MKIV suffered from iffy quality, the smaller, staid Polo was known for being reliably unbreakable. Then, something happened. Just as Mercedes' quality nosedived, the VW Polo lost its rep for bullet-proof build. Since 2005 quality has (reportedly) markedly improved, which has put the car back on the list of frugal consumers looking to buy something “classically VW." But is it ready for a U.S. debut?

As I drove to my neighborhood Kia dealer, the window signage caught my eye. Actually, make that grabbed both eyeballs and ripped them out, Oedipus-style. DRIVE TODAY! NO CREDIT! BAD CREDIT! I wondered how long before the words “What price are you looking to pay?” would effect the same injury to my ears. While dealerships like this make Kia’s 100,000 mile warranty look like a mixed blessing, let’s face it: they know their market. As does the Kia Optima.

The Scion brand has turned to face some strange ch-ch-changes over the last model year. The bento-box-on-wheels xB was re-fashioned for American tastes, exchanging hip Nipponese style for porky gangsta chic. And now the xA, the mini-minivan-shaped thingie that somehow (unfortunately) captured the spirit of the orthopedic Toyota Echo, has been axed. In a break with ToMoCo’s tradition of maintaining model names, Scion has decided to replace the xA with the xD, a mini-CUV-shaped thingie with bad ‘tude. Go figure.

My co-pilot sat motionless, stupefied from the previous night's revelry. Strangely, this poor fellow thought I could be trusted not to challenge Alka-Seltzer's restorative powers. I allowed him the luxury of this delusion all the way from the hotel to the highway. And then I floored it. The CLK Black Series' engine bellowed WAKE UP FOOL! The uber-bad Benz' back end quivered from side to side. The traction control light sent a steady stream of Morse code through first, second and third gear. The ten second wake-up call placed us well north of 100 mph. The jobbing journo groaned his disapproval. God I love this work!

The last time a Volvo was sexy, so was (Sir) Roger Moore. Just as The Saint titillated the fairer sex, Simon Templar’s Volvo P1800 had heel-and-toe types salivating. Shortly thereafter Moore was persuaded to abandon his Swedish whip for an Aston. By the time the English actor got into Bond-age, Volvo had turned deeply dull. Sexy was scrapped, safety celebrated. Stylistically, Gothenburg’s designs adhered to a Ty Webbian template: “Be the box. Be the box.” While Volvos slowly evolved away from the rectangular gestalt, they never quite shucked middle-aged mindfulness. The new C30 aims to change all that. 

Late last century, GM decided to fight the rising tide of uninteresting front wheel-drive cars Japanese cars by building their own uninteresting front wheel-drive cars. Three decades of trying to out-Japan the Japanese yielded the pinnacle of American wrong-wheel technology: The Monte Carlo SS. Now that GM’s hulking trucks have had their day, the automaker is busy hawking its lackluster though miserly Cobavion. This despite the fact that one of the best small cars GM has ever produced sits unloved in Pontiac lots across America. Go figure.

I sat anxiously in a showroom Mercedes CLS while the salesman processed my paperwork for a test drive. Even in repose, the CLS is a magnificent machine. Soaking in that heady blend of luxury and gravitas, I wondered if my spin in the B200 (available in Canada and Europe) would capture any of that Mercedes quintessence. Sometimes, brand extension works (Bentley Continental GT) and sometimes, it doesn't (VW Phaeton). So does the B 200 fit in Herr Doktor Daimler’s pantheon of pomp and circumstance?

Chrysler has just unleashed its new minivan, hoping to jump-start sales in a sector that's been shrinking for a decade. During this slide, the Honda Odyssey and Toyota Sienna have moved their people movers upmarket, banking healthy margins on the back of tremendous customer loyalty. Meanwhile, Kia entered the fray with a more budget-minded alternative, the Sedona. Although Kia missed the obvious marketing opportunity (My my my, Sedona), the not-so-fancy shmancy minivan has proven itself a sales winner. Why?

Lazy automotive writers love assignments on Korean vehicles. The review practically writes itself: just recap a few Letterman-esque Hyundai jokes, feign shock at how much the brand has come along, issue some heavily-qualified praise ("it's endearingly almost Toyota-like!") and Bob's your uncle. We here at TTAC reckon it's time to stop treating the Korean brands like they’re special-needs children. It's time to judge these vehicles against their own self-proclaimed brand values. The Kia Spectra: "Simply put, it's a blast to drive." Simply put, we'll see about that.

According to psychologists, the middle child fights an endless, depressing battle for parental attention. So pity the poor Legacy 2.5i Special Edition, sitting between the WRX and Outback. The WRX is the pistonheads' golden child. Older brother Outback is largely credited with the family's success– despite the fact that the Legacy was Subaru's sales leader in May. The shrinks say lavishing praise on the neglected sib is the best way to cure middle child syndrome. Ah, but is the Legacy 2.5i Special Edition (SE) special enough to deserve it?