The American Spectator

The Spectacle Blog

I just completed a business trip to Atlanta where I drove a rental car all over the metropolitan area. I'd hoped for a Ford Fusion, but got a Chevrolet Impala. As a former owner of a 1988 Chevrolet Caprice Classic, I was stunned by how similar the experience of driving a twenty years younger Impala was to driving my old car. Same sense of being disconnected from the road. Same feeling of driving a sofa. Nothing bad,. It was just . . . there.

Here's the worst part. When I returned to the airport in Houston and picked up my 2000 four cylinder Honda Accord, I roared out of the parking lot surprised by the sensation of driving a race car in total communion with the asphalt. When the Chevy's great achievement is to make me feel like a king in my no frills eight year old Accord, one has to worry about GM.

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