Last week I parted with my stodgy old 1987 Volvo in favor of a perky new 2010 Mazda3.
It was high time that I drove a vehicle that declared my personal style and vitality. A freckle-faced boy of sixty should have a sporty car. (Take it from me, they're freckles. Only the malicious refer to them as age spots.)
Here is the Mazda in profile.
Many automotive critics have poked fun at the Mazda's grill, saying that it resembles a goofy grin.
For my part, I prefer a car with a cheerful countenance over a car with a surly countenance.