Ford Mustang

I got this car with plastic on the steering wheel, the back seat belts buckled, and 5 miles on the odometer. I very much enjoy mustangs: they’re fast and throaty and fun to drive and equipped with loud and amusing stereos.

They are small in the trunk and the back seats are pretty useless – definitely not where you want to stuff an large, elderly coworker. But the car is fun. Fast and fun.

The engine has more show than go – the sound of the engine is one of big power and extreme performance. While the car handles much better than most rental cars, it does not live up to the sound of the exhaust. A nice Audi or Volvo, for example, will accelerate faster, harder, and longer and take turns better, but never call attention to themselves while doing it.

On the other hand, actually going really fast is not always relevant: having fun is more to the point and the mustang is fun. It feels spry and agile and powerful and serves well to take years off the driver’s age. It’s the prefect car to cruise suburban malls, especially if one dye’s one’s hair or wears a toupee. If chicks aren’t the goal, then it certainly makes getting to work an exercise in regression therapy.

Aside from the throaty roar and sporty performance, road noise is poorly isolated but well compensated for by a loud, bass-heavy stereo typically equipped with a CD-MP3 changer that can hold 6 CDs (or maybe 60 albums) which means on older cars one can often find heavy metal compilations forgotten in the changer. Not so much classical.