the pursuit of quality in a fleeting life

Review: An American

Recently I had the displeasure of spending some time with an American.  No, it wasn’t a date gone wrong, it was my rental Dodge Avenger in the most primary blue that the skies derive its color from it.

First, the car rumbled like a tractor mowing across the lawn.  In my case, I was trying to mow across the speeding freeway ahead of me making my way with only the most minuscule sense of motivation to actually move.  Coming from someone who has driven a Lexus, and even the cheapest model in the Toyota Corolla line for that matter, I could barely achieve the efficiency of a 90 year-old grandmother.  Either from the engine being ill-fitted or the glass windows too thin to block out the exterior noises, the radio paid little consolation to the roaring metal compelling my own existence to proceed.

Second, the car lacked all functionality.  From the manual headlights to the radio having to be turned on and off upon entry and exit, my irritation for such simple niceties in life could not have been fulfilled.   There are no graces when the car is locked, rather a resounding honk from the car horn.  There is no finesse when the ignition is lit up and the car is still in complete darkness, only waiting for your resolute command to turn on its lights.  There is no sweet melody to the radio greeting you when you turn the car on, only silence until you have settled into the faux leather seats and decided to take away the pain with the countless commercials played on public radio (but that is whole other on its own).  Thank goodness I am not in the wild heat of summer, or else I would have scalding third degree burns on my entire backside.

Lastly, the vehicle (if it so chooses to call itself that) simply had NO style at all.  I understand that the American way of life has certainly moved far ahead in its time, however, the engineering in this vehicle was eons behind its consumer.  The car simply has no style.  From the color of the car that only a five year-old Hot Wheels collector would appreciate, to the grossly uncomfortable interior that would rival those of rides at Disneyland, I was severely disappointed.  The car looked like it wanted to be on the race track, but was laughed off of it because it was trying too hard.

I can promise even if I were to receive an American car for free, I would not dare drive it off the lot.  I would immediately sell it to the next best bidder.  I’d also throw in a prayer because after such a crappy purchase, they would want to run the car and themselves over a bridge.


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