#DougDemuro

Over the last two years, attacking Lincoln has become tremendously “in.” This is because doing so will cause everyone to agree with you, which is sort of like when people complain about drivers in their hometown. Seriously: no matter what major city you visit, the drivers there are “the worst,” according to local residents who have obviously never visited Italy.

The latest industry observer to attack Lincoln is David Kiley, who wrote an editorial yesterday for Autoblog entitled “ Lincoln needs a farewell address, not a new marketing plan.” This received a generally warm welcome, which mirrors the one Kiley will get in tomorrow’s Detroit Free Press for writing an op-ed piece called “Detroit Drivers Are The Worst.” The latter story would probably win him a Pulitzer, except the committee is in New York and they are absolutely certain Manhattan drivers are the worst.

The only problem is that all of the Lincoln doubters are wrong.

Before you say it, I’m well aware of what you’re thinking: I must be crazy. Regular readers already know this to be true, since I owned a Range Rover Classic. But for those who need more proof, here it is: I have absolutely no idea how Lincoln will come back. I won’t lay out a marketing plan as Kiley did, despite announcing in his title that Lincoln doesn’t need one. I just know they will.

When I was a child, I had some neighbors with a Cadillac. They were either very old or very confused, but probably both since they put their license plate renewal decals on the trunk.

This was the early 1990s, when nobody had a Cadillac. Seriously: the lineup consisted of the Seville, the DeVille, the Eldorado and the Fleetwood Brougham, which was larger than most New York City apartments. None of those sound appealing even by TTAC standards, which seem to consist of: once a car is cancelled, it automatically becomes good, especially if it was designed at a time when fuel was cheaper than postage.

In 1995, Subaru rolled out the Outback, which was tremendously successful at fooling New Englanders into believing that they were driving an SUV. Seriously: Subaru took a Legacy wagon, raised it an inch, painted the bottom part gold, and – for the first time in its history – became incredibly popular, even among people who don’t consider “granola” acceptable for a restaurant menu. (Let the record reflect I have now completed an entire paragraph about Subaru without making a lesbian joke.)

In 1998, the Subaru Outback range added a sedan model, called the “SUS” for “Sport Utility Sedan.” Unfortunately, the presence of a trunk meant New Englanders were no longer fooled, though some people from Colorado apparently were. Nonetheless, sales were dismal no matter how many times Subaru tried to remind shoppers that driving on a dirt road doesn’t mean you need to carry a lot of stuff. Eventually, they gave up and cancelled the Outback sedan, then redesigned the wagon to compete with a milk truck. (Seriously, why is it so big?)

I recently inherited a Nissan Cube from my brother. When I tell people this, they have two distinct reactions. For anyone who isn’t into cars, it’s: “Your brother died?” Car people, however, usually respond with: “You have a Nissan Cube?” This is the same reaction that non-car people tend to have when I explain my brother did not die, but rather moved to Los Angeles, where his soul will.

Last week, I wrote an article entitled “ Don’t Invest In These Investment Cars.” I expected the usual: at least one commenter would ask why I didn’t include a Panther derivative (which happened), my parents would ask when I was going to get a real job (which also happened), and life would otherwise continue along normally.

But that didn’t happen. Instead, I received a phone call from everyone I’ve ever met asking how I dared to include the Buick Grand National on such a list. (“They’re like $30k! And they used to be like nine! Are you an idiot?!”) So this week, I’m going to play it a little safer and instead write a piece on good investment cars. Feel free to provide your feedback, as long as it doesn’t include the words “Crown Victoria.”

DISCLAIMER: Do not actually attempt to use cars as an investment. You have a better chance of getting into the NBA as a white guy from French Lick, Indiana.

Without further ado, here are my nominations.

You never really know what ideas will be successful in the auto industry. In the early 1990s, for example, a guy at Subaru actually said the following: “I know! Let’s raise the Legacy an inch, change its name, and paint the bottom part gold!” When you really think about it, this sounds no stupider than “Why isn’t there a version of the GMC Envoy for people who transport grandfather clocks?”

The New York Auto Show is over, signaling the end of yet another highly successful auto show season, unless, of course, you’re Suzuki. For some, there’s still the Shanghai show, where we’ll get to see all the latest midsize luxury sedans with slightly longer wheelbases. I also highly recommend next month’s Africa Auto Show (officially called the “Automotives and Spare Parts Exhibition”) in Nairobi, where Toyota will show off a lightly-used 2001 Land Cruiser.

Last spring, I sold my Porsche to buy a station wagon. Car guys understand this, because it’s outlined in our unspoken creed: eventually we all trade in our beloved sports cars for a practical family vehicle that can haul our kids and whatever expensive musical instruments they’ve decided to learn this week. But for me, the swap came early: at 23 years old, single and without children, I swapped my 911 Turbo for a mommy-mobile.

Times are tough if you’re into Japanese cars. The sportiest Honda is a hybrid with 15-inch wheels. The coolest Toyota is a Subaru with 150 pound-feet of torque, while the fastest Toyota is a horse race between a three-row SUV and the Camry. And, despite the efforts of the American car-buying public, Mitsubishi still exists.

Sure, there are some bright spots. The Impreza WRX, for example, is still cool, despite Subaru’s attempts to make it look like a hood-scooped version of every other compact car. And the Nissan GT-R is awesome, even though experts like automotive journalists and Porsche employees will tell you it lacks “soul.” But there was a time not so long ago when there were more than just a handful of cool Japanese cars.

One of the most interesting things to come out of the recent Chevy Impala launch – aside from the fact that GM thinks it can sell the thing for $40,000 – is that the current, unloved Impala will live on as a fleet-only special called the “Chevrolet Impala Limited.” To that, I say: great idea.

I’ve been a proponent of fleet-only cars ever since the 1997-2003 Chevrolet Malibu was rebranded the Chevrolet Classic, a name which would’ve been appropriate when it debuted. In fact, I think there should be even more fleet-only cars – an idea that’s unpopular in the automotive industry, but highly praised between my ears. Allow me to explain.

For as long as I’ve been alive, Jaguar has been mired in identity crisis. The main problem has always been the same: the average Jaguar buyer is old. So old, in fact, that a primary bathroom break debate topic at the recent Papal conclave was the best color for an XJL. So how can Jaguar find younger buyers?

In the last few years, a few cars have received more than their fair share of media attention. The Scion FR-S and Subaru BRZ, for example, which a few outlets have stopped just short of describing as the return of Jesus. A few others didn’t bother stopping short. There’s been a similar reaction to some of the updated Chrysler products, proving that all it takes to win over car journalists is a nip and tuck outside, a few new materials inside, and a fleet of well-equipped press cars generously loaned to anyone who asks.

A discussion about Volkswagen’s strangest ideas would be a long and potentially heated one. Not selling the latest Scirocco here, for example, but offering the Touareg V10 TDI. Producing the Phaeton W12 at all. Creating new sales volume goals by multiplying previous ones together. But to me, one bizarre Volkswagen creation stands tall above the rest: the 1996 Golf Harlequin Edition.

The Geneva Auto Show is now behind us, which means today’s automotive journalists will finally stop tweeting pictures of how expensive a cup of coffee would be, if only it wasn’t being paid for by Audi.

In the last two years, Aston Martin has offered six different models. They’re all rear-wheel drive. They all look the same. They all offer V12 engines with roughly 500 horsepower. And yet the most expensive one costs twice as much as the cheapest one.