Things used to be so simple.Fast cars had two doors and a horse on the hood, four-wheel drive was reserved for safaris in Africa, and luxury cars came from Germany.
In the blink of an eye, that simple structure seems to have spun into an automotive identity tornado, and frankly, the madness is confusing.
The best steering out there can be found in a hopped-up econobox made by Mitsubishi, a capable off-roader can be found at the mall with a Stuttgart badge on the hood, and some of today's most luxurious cars are built by Toyota.
It's utterly impossible to predict what's going to pop out of whose factory doors these days.
As frustrating as this automotive disarray is, its bizarre nature means you don't have to be a millionaire to drive a luxurious car anymore, and you don't have to actually be in the desert to pretend you're the adventurous type.
The most useable benefit of all, though, is mass access to levels of performance previously available only to the rich. So, I guess I shouldn't be complaining.
This whirlwind of confusion was in full swing when Japan started making sports cars. I mean really making sports cars-land rockets with twin turbos, big brakes and steamroller rubber.
Thanks to Japan's willingness to shatter identity boundaries, an Ivy League education and a posh job in a soulless city office were no longer pre-requisites to back-road blasts. Everyone could experience the thrills once reserved for pompous dill-pickles named "Chaz" sporting white Topsiders and pink turtleneck sweaters draped around their shoulders.
Japan's budget ass-haulers quickly landed a following among starving gearheads everywhere, and an aftermarket that grew like bacteria in an airport bathroom. Single-turbo Supras, light and nimble RX-7's, and enormous 3000GT's scrabbled for highway dominance, their ultra-pressurized engines laying waste to any European metal in the way.
The cars were so revolutionary that they reeled in Camaro and Mustang buyers, European car lovers, the rich and the poor alike, and now they're... Well, they're extinct.
Ah, glory days.