Gwendolyn’s getting an extended (three-day) spa visit this week, having those dubious mounts replaced, including one of those fancy-schmancy electronically-controlled gizmos that costs a mere 2.5 times as much as usual, and getting a fresh tie rod on one side. Oh, and there’s an oil change involved, but that’s maybe a thirtieth of the bill.
Infiniti has banished the low-end(ish) G25 after two years of so-so business apparently nobody wants the same car with a hundred fewer ponies so I’m belted into one of the last ’12 G37s. Truth be told, I liked the G25 better; as I said the first time I drove one: “Only once so far have I been able to befuddle the seven-speed automatic.” In fact, the fuddle has been doubled, because this slushbox is easily confused when confronted with speeds around 20 mph, or when descending to below 60 mph: it will contemplate several gears before finally giving you the wrong one. Fortunately, this thing can be shifted manually, after a fashion, though I suspect this car is happier with a stick. (Not that any dealership is going to lend a stick-shift car to J. Random Driver if it can possibly be avoided.) Then again, they never sold a G25 with a manual, which might have been fun.
One could argue, I suppose, that it’s improper to drive a seven-speed auto the same way as one would drive a lowly four-speed. I contend that with a properly designed automatic, the aforementioned J. Random Driver should never need to know how many gears are in the box. (And my first such was a Powerglide, which had all of two.)