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Story Archive: Car Reviews
of
crossovers
Driving the 2007 Lincoln MKX is almost as good as going to the spa. In fact, I think I’ll need a few more weeks in this crossover to uncover its flaws. Lincoln, can you send it back? I need a mud mask. I mean, a deep-tissue massage. I mean, well … you get it.
In our house, no one could say this car’s name without rolling the “R” and stretching out the “O” at the end: “Rrrrrrrrondoooooo!” This added an element of fun and character missing in the car itself.
I have discovered the outer limits of extreme sports for parents: Extreme Camping. Not for the faint of heart, this sport involves camping in tents with an entire class of kindergarteners. I swallowed my reservations and loaded up the Mazda CX-9 with our tent, sleeping bags and my son’s enormous backpack, which literally towers over him by a foot.
The “dead pedal” in most cars is a somewhat uncomfortable place to rest your foot if you wear high heels. Well, the interior designers of the GMC Acadia thought about this tiny detail and placed a notch at the bottom that will accommodate all but the chunkiest of heels.
Get this: The Outlook’s storage pockets are located on the back of both front seats, not just one or the other like in so many cars, meaning sharing — and fighting — can be kept to a minimum. It’s the little things in life that really thrill me, especially because I seem to have a touch of OCD that extends from the pockets in my car to the closets in my home. Don’t laugh; it’s a personal problem that I’m diligently working out in therapy.
Equally as exciting (apparently, I don’t get out much), I make a stop at Costco to stock up on family essentials and find I can fit one million rolls of TP in the back without having to leave my kids on the corner holding a sign that reads “free to a good home.”
The 2007 Mazda CX-7 is the catalyst for a union of two facets of my life that seem to have been separated since birth (well, the birth of my children, anyhow): The independent, I-am-woman-hear-me-roar self along with the mommy-where-are-my-pink-cowboy-boots self. Finally, a car that graciously accepts the complexities of my life with ease.
The 2007 Ford Edge isn’t too flashy; it’s hip and sharp without screaming, “Look at me! I need attention! I am high-maintenance! Where’s the nearest manicurist?”
When flipping though the pages of a parenting magazine (whose subscription I’ve been meaning to cancel since my kids are now 4 and 6 and I no longer need or want to read about the greatest new birthing techniques every month), I became intrigued by adds for the Mazda5. What is it? A miniaturized minivan? A big sport wagon with sliding doors and room for six?
I am impressed with the attention Subaru has paid to the airliner theme of the B9 Tribeca. Even Wonder Woman’s airplane doesn’t have this much thematic integrity. It is a very functional aircraft, I mean vehicle, and my kids appreciate all flights, even those close to the ground.
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