Here’s the situation: It’s a Wednesday afternoon and I’ve been staring at the computer screen for the better part of the week, cramming my brain full of information about the 2011 Fords, Acuras, Hyundais, Kias, and Suzukis. My brain is tired. I need a break.
So, I head for the Ford store and the purdiest, shiniest, beefiest car on the lot: the 2011 Mustang. Salesman Peter McFadden knows what I’m thinking. He grabs the keys, unlocks the car, slips me dealer plate and grins. “Have fun!” he says.
The last time I drove a muscle car it was 1993, and the car was a 1970-something Camaro who’s driver’s seat was stuck in permanent recline. Despite the issues with sitting up straight, it was fun to drive. It was loud and powerful and I felt cool just sitting in it.
The Mustang is kinda like that, only… much so much sweeter. The power and sound are there but, the ride is smooth and the interior, luxurious. I’m sure it’s fast – Peter tells me it will go 150-plus. As much as I would love to open it up, though, it’s not mine and I like Peter too much to risk a $24,000 vehicle he’s responsible for. But let’s just say I let the ponies run enough to know there’s more than a lawnmower engine under the hood (in fact, the 2011 Mustang sports a 3.7L V6 and 300 horses).
When I return the ‘Stang to the stable I’m, yes, feeling cooler. And my mind is rested. Peter breathes an audible sigh of relief. I know what he’s thinking, though…he’d better sell that car soon or I might find myself needing a break a whole lot more often.