Sometimes I feel bad for drawing a paycheck.

Today was one of those days when I truly enjoy my job. Not every day is like this; sometimes I need to deliver truly regrettable vehicles, and other times I don't get to drive at all. Today, though, was a good day.

Today I was asked to deliver a 2007 Jaguar XJ over 20 miles to a customer. Now, on a bad day at work, this length of delivery would entail a hateful vehicle such as a Prius or Grand Caravan that smells of body odor and pet dander. But on this very special day, I was asked to cruise in an automobile that was luxurious, fuel efficient, powerful and a thing of beauty.

One of the first things that I love about the 2007 Jaguar XJ is the interior. Most cars are available with leather seats, so when a leather interior is mentioned, it doesn't exactly conjure the image of opulent luxury that this Jaguar exudes. No, the Jaguar's cabin reclaims the majesty of leather. The dash, center console, door panels and of course seats are covered in cow hide of the highest quality. That which isn't covered in leather is wood or metal. Essentially, everything the driver touches has a feel of refinement. This car, then, is a joy from the moment one sinks into the supportive and comfortable seats.

Insert the key in the ignition and turn clockwise to experience my second favorite aspect of this vehicle: the silky smooth 4.2 liter DOHC V8. Yes, at only 300 horse power, it won't win street races against modern Dodge Chargers or Pontiac G8 GTs, but the power is sufficient enough to deliver 60 mph in only 6.2 seconds. For comparison, that's roughly the same amount of time that the 450 horse 1970 Chevelle SS needed to hit 60. The main difference lies in the way that power is delivered by the Jag's V8 versus the Chevelle's 454; never harsh or abrupt, and all while delivering over 20 mpg.

Once on the road, the transmission selects gears well and allows the driver to either relax and enjoy the scenery or reenact his favorite parts of the chase from Bullitt. The steering is slightly numb, but never light and always direct. I'd prefer more feedback when sawing at the wheel, but I can see how the average buyer will never voice concern over this flaw.

After 20 miles of freeway driving, I delivered the Jaguar to its owner and handed the keys over with a wisp of regret. I need to work harder and buy one.

Grade: A

Street Fight: Cadillac Versus Ferrari Style

There I am, driving along in the right line on SR-520 west bound when I see a CTS-V coupe merging ahead of me.

The CTS-V had an aftermarket exhaust, custom wheels, and clearly a driver with an attitude to match the monster at his fingertips.

Then the Ferrari FF appeared in the lane beside it.

This thing was bone stock and ugly in the way that only a car geek could love. It had my attention.

The CTS-V owner had not only also noticed the red wedge to its left, but had clearly watched Top Gear and knew that a CTS-V can easily hand a Ferrari its ass in a straight line.

The Cadillac opened the taps and a symphony of finely tuned, supercharged OHV V8 fury resounded like a heavenly chorus as the CTS-V rocketed toward the horizon. The Italian hatch accepted the challenge and dug into its reserves as the tail squatted and the exhaust note sang across the Bellevue landscape with the soul stirring beauty of Luciano Pavarotti singing Ave Maria. 

The race, Ladies and Gentlemen, was on.

Yes, the Ferrari exhaust note was beautiful, but I have to hand it to whichever sound engineer was behind the Cadi's design: Well done Madam or Sir. The Cadillac sounded like a lion gargling bees at the gates of hell. It was terrifying.

The Cadillac had deeper power reserves and consequently demolished its fine Italian competitor in their display of ferocity.

If I were a Prius owner, or the guy with the hippie nonsense pasted across my rear bumper pleading for coexistence or the protection of endangered southern Arizonian shrubbery, then this would be no more than a waste of fermented dinosaur juices. But I am not, thank God. I am a car geek. I am the guy who was audibly cheering and who momentarily took his hands off the wheel long enough to raise them in the manner necessary to express my delight. Basically, I looked like an idiot on a roller coaster heading into a death-defying loop-de-loop.

Please, if you are considering the purchase of a CTS-V, whether wagon, sedan or coupe, I strongly urge you to do so. If not for yourself (and there's no loser there), then for the benefit of your fellow gear heads.

And if you own the Ferrari, I'll gladly dispose of your shame by accepting the vehicle and punishing it accordingly.

Nicola Tesla's Fall Back Car

Toyota and Honda have worked very hard to ruin cars with electric motors for me. Yes the Tesla Roadster is an electric with serious performance and very few compromises, but for every Tesla that I've seen on the road there's at least 1,000 hateful hybrids. Let's put it this way: the Prius is so bad that I've come to hate cars driven by batteries.

Now I've driven the Nissan Leaf. From appearances alone, this is a Prius and Insight competitor. The ungainly curves and goofball headlights make for something only less ugly than the Nissan Juke, but slightly better looking to my eye than the bland hybrids. It reminds me of an unattractive Honda Fit.

Moving on to the interior, there's no surprises here. The materials are cheap but clean, with comfortable seats and well placed pedals and wheel. The shifter is laid out exactly like the Prius', with drive to the left and down, reverse to the left and up. The only difference there being that the park button is better placed on top of the shifter in the Leaf rather than in a different location on the dash as in the Prius.

Here's what seems to make the biggest difference: the Leaf is all electric. There's no gas engine, so unlike the Prius or Insight, no matter how deep you dig into the throttle, the Leaf always remains quiet and composed. In the Prius it feels as though the electric motor is present only long enough for the gas engine to hum to life and deliver you with any expediancy. In the Leaf, there's an immediate response to your input. This difference is on the order of AC/DC versus ABBA.

That acceleration from the Leaf has endeared it to me. Yes, the steering is of the unfortunately numb electric assist variety, and the suspension is designed, apparently, by the same engineers behind the covered wagons that crossed the Oregon Trail. But there's something magical about the instant torque of an electric motor that the Prius and Insight overlooked entirely. Nissan has certainly done their homework here.

Overall, I like the Leaf. I'm terrified of the unpredictable range (maybe 50 miles, maybe 20) generated by lively driving, but for a daily commuter, I'd have no problem trusting the Leaf to get me to and from work without problems. And yes, I hate front wheel drive, but until the Tesla or Fisker Karma are available for less than $30,000 I don't consider them to be viable rear wheel drive electric options.

In short, if you're considering a Prius or Insight, I'd strongly encourage you to drive the all electric Leaf and discover the joy that electric cars can be.

Grade: A-

2008 Chrysler 300 SRT8: Meh?

This week I drove a 2008 Chrysler 300. On paper, I love these cars. I like independent rear suspension, torquey V8 engines, big brakes, and posh interiors. In person, I'm always reminded why you can't drive paper. The 300's heavy steering, soft suspension, lethargic transmission and low-rent interior materials conspire to diminish what could have so easily been a fun driving experience.

But this was no regular Chrysler 300. This model had the 6.1 liter V8 (instead of either a terrible 6 cylinder or a much better 5.7 V8), huge family-pizza-sized brakes, and a much firmer suspension. Sure, the interior still suffers at the hands of indifferent bean counters who surely got bonuses for keeping the cost low, and the steering is still borderline manual, but the exhaust note alone is heavenly enough to compensate.

That exhaust note. Imagine a lion roaring through a megaphone into a canyon. Then imagine 425 horses launching you towards the horizon, thus making that sweet symphony of angry attached to the primal fear of the brutal acceleration. It still raises the small hairs on my arms.

Yes, the brakes are too numb to inspire any level of heel and toe ballet work. Yes, the suspension is now composed of granite rather than marshmallow. And yes, that damned steering wheel will build forearms of Popeye proportions. But that motor will make a Hawaiian style sunny day of even the grayest of a Seattle winter.

Would I buy one? Well, yes, provided it were used (new pricing, at least in the greater Seattle area with the idiotic Adjusted Market Value, is absurd), clean, and black.

I give the 2008 Chrysler 300 SRT8 a B+.