I’m sick of vanilla sedans for the soft-handed, androgynous, middle-aged, middle-management herd creatures found only in marketing research data.
I want a Chrysler 300 with a bomb-proof Chevy V8 small-block cranking out about 300hp-350hp. Manual locks, manual mirrors, manual windows, analog climate control knobs and such. Heavy steering, braking, and clutch like an air-cooled Porsche. Manual 6-speed transmission and manual 4-wheel-drive handle engagement like a Jeep Wrangler. I don’t want any flat-screen TV BS in the dash. I’ve got a smart phone. Do give me a rugged sporty cloth interior like a Nissan Xterra or Frontier. Something you can hose down after the dogs or kids ruin it every week. Make the carpets easily removable and put drains in the floor pan. None of that 22″ chrome wheels malarkey, either. I want 18″-19″ brushed aluminum Bullitt wheels with high profile tires that do hand to hand combat with crappy American roads.
I could be wrong, but I get the feeling that this desire for a Chevy mill in a Chrysler is motivated by disdain, not so much for Mopar powerplants, but for the weak-sauce appearance (to include front-wheel drive) of pretty much all non-sporting Chevys that aren’t actual pickup trucks. (Disclosure: I have yet to see the ’14 Impala in the, um, flesh.) Bullitt wheels, of course, are associated with Ford, so the Detroit 3 are all represented here.
And I think this could be adopted as a benchmark: if you want 22s, you’re a rider, not a driver.