In the seven or eight years I’ve been an “official” enthusiast (someone that actually works in the automotive industry or gets paid to be an enthusiast), my career has taken a rather circuitous path. I’ve worked on or around cars, trucks, imports, domestics, in marketing, in journalism, and yes, ate Top Ramen for 6 months as a freelancer. All the cars I’ve owned could be broadly classified as “compacts”:

In the seven or eight years I’ve been an “official” enthusiast (someone that actually works in the automotive industry or gets paid to be an enthusiast), my career has taken a rather circuitous path. I’ve worked on or around cars, trucks, imports, domestics, in marketing, in journalism, and yes, ate Top Ramen for 6 months as a freelancer. All the cars I’ve owned could be broadly classified as “compacts”: one two-door notchback coupe (a ‘93 Nissan Sentra XE); a 3-door hatch (’00 VW GTI VR6); and a-formerly known as a wagon but it’s uncool to say that–5-door (’03 Mazda Protege5). Although the VW was a mechanical and electrical nightmare, the sheer practicality of its purposeful, boxy design had me hooked. When I folded the rear seats down, it seemed the car would swallow almost anything. I used it as an unofficial moving van on more than one occasion. When I finally got tired of dealing with its Teutonic tantrums, there was no question what type of vehicle my replacement would be. The Protege5, although much less powerful, has proven to be a trustworthy companion and even more practical thanks to its extra set of doors.

So yes, I’m no longer ashamed to admit I’m a wagon guy. I can’t, though, seem to make the leap of faith into SUVs. You’d think it would be an easy transition since they seem very similar from the outside. But to me, the dynamic and psychological difference between a wagon and SUV is as wide as the Grand Canyon. Same with the “crossovers” that I’ve seen which lean too far in the SUV direction. Wagons retain all the driving dynamics of a “car” while adding an extra measure of practicality in the form of a third or fifth “door”. SUVs, on the other hand, sit you up in a high chair position, give vague, disconnected control responses, add several hundred pounds, and raise ExxonMobil stock a few cents every time you press the throttle down. Yes, maybe you gain a few incremental cubic feet, or gain a few more pounds of towing capacity, but with a few notable exceptions, the trade-off simply isn’t worth it. If I want to tow (and I mean really tow), I’ll get a Duramax Silverado or Cummins Ram. If I really need cargo capacity, I’ll get a Sprinter panel van. Right now, all I need is a little extra space for domestic bric-a-brac. When the wife insisted on getting an ottoman for the living room, we went to the consignment store where I effortlessly placed the somewhat largish-looking item in the Mazda’s cargo hold without even lowering the seats. Impressive!

I’m not a father yet, and the day may come when I finally break down and cross over (no pun intended). I already have my automotive succession plan determined. First step will be the wasabi-infused Mazdaspeed3, addressing the sole complaint I have with my Protege: power. Once children enter the picture, it’s either going to be a Magnum or a Mazda5. For the latter, I am utterly intrigued by its mini-minivan packaging and slick styling.

Now, if there are more than 2 children in the picture, it will be a traditional minvan like a Hyundai Entourage, or the 2008 Dodge Caravan. Yes, strange that a male would voluntarily subject himself to being seen in a minivan. But I’m secure enough in my masculinity that I don’t need 44-inch tires and 7,000 pounds to assert my Darwinian status. But if sheer mass and size are your thing, I’m the last guy to pass judgment on your taste in transportation. I just ask the same favor in return.