If the Countryman is so British, the Jeep Wrangler is INSURMOUNTABLY American. It’s hard not to want to dig into that V6, to take it through puddles and out into the city, out past DePaul University and its village of Big 10 transplants in yoga pants with bearded boyfriends who tweet out pictures of craft breweries. You want to just gun this thing, get the wind in your nostrils, to take in the smell of patchuli and scones and unauthorized snuggles.

This RCR really hit close to home. I used to have a Wrangler JK…

What are we doing? This isn’t a regular car. How can the beauty of an Aston Martin Vantage shine and dry my soggy feelings of unworthiness and envy?

A Regular Car Review for the vehicle that says I’m a male. I’m sorry. I want to have sex. I’m sorry. I find you attractive. I’m sorry. I drive a Subaru Forester. I sympathize with you. I’ll pay for everything. I won’t look at you. I will look you in the eyebrows. Look how I am behaving. See my hands? They’re in my pockets. You had a bad day. I’m sorry. I know it’s my fault. Everything is my fault. You are listening to member-supported Public Radio.

The Chrysler Conquest is a grey import Mitsubishi Starion. This is a car in which you can transform yourself into that guy who tells the same story over and over at every party. “This is an American car right? Nope! Bet you thought it was! Nope! Let me tell you what it really is….” and then the girl you’re talking to looks for a bass player to bang.