I’ve been active on MotoringFile since 2005, which is before I even owned my MINI. I read the latest news, left comments and participated in the conversations. The MINI community, which as far as I’m concerned revolves around MF in a really significant way, is a big part of the experience of owning the car. Much like what I’ve found to be true about the scooter community here in the Twin Cities, ownership of a MINI gets you access to a pretty special community of enthusiasts. MotoringFile is where those folks turn to keep up-to-date on the latest and greatest of what’s going on with MINI. The site isn’t sponsored directly by MINI USA corporate, but it is supported indirectly through exclusive information and unique access.

This new role has also opened up related opportunities with the world-famous WhiteRoofRadio.com — the weekly MINI podcast put on by Don Burnside and Todd Pearson, who are gentlemen and scholars both. They’ve made me a recurring guest host for the show. I’ve been on a couple times now to discuss the MINI Scooter E concept from the Paris Motor Show and hope to be back on soon. News from MotoringFile is a big part of the show each week, so it makes sense to have someone from the site involved. I’m not on every week (which is a good thing, as I’m getting pretty damn busy myself these days), but when I am on, it’s an honor, a privilege, and a damn good time.

So though it does take away some of my free time and creative energy that I might have spent here, it’s a great opportunity that will likely open the door to some amazing experiences such as press access to major auto shows, unique test drive opportunities, and unique access to major MINI events. I’m thrilled to be involved and so far it’s been a bit of work, but a lot of fun.

Check out Gabe’s full write up over at MotoringFile »

Exterior design is always subjective. And when you’re dealing with a brand with so much heritage, it can be a herculean task to create a new shape within the context of a new model range. But that’s exactly why the Countryman is so impressive. In this vehicle MINI has both departed and embraced the visual language that they have so carefully crafted over the last 10 years.

If you’re not a regular Motoringfile reader, it’s worth mentioning that this R60 crossover model is easily the most contentious move MINI has made since its reintroduction to America in 2002. The very idea of this car deeply divided the enthusiast community, and beyond just the cainophobiacs in the comment section. Everyone was skeptical, including myself, that an SUV — even a small “crossover” SUV — had any place in the MINI catalogue.  It seemed like pandering to the bad taste of mainstream american drivers simply to hedge MINI’s profit margins. It was abhorrent that the iconic Cooper hatch might have to share the marque with some overgrown, FJ Cruiser-like parody of itself. And had MINI gone down that path, I’d definitely be on the side of the unhappy mob — pitchfork in hand and torch aflame.

Thankfully, the design team at MINI have proven themselves masters of their craft from the very first incarnation of the R60, the Crossover Concept. Looking back on it now, it’s amazing just how closely the production car revealed today mirrors this concept vehicle from 2008.

What I thought then, and can only reiterate now with renewed enthusiasm, is that the only way a vehicle like this could work would be if it were uniquely MINI. It would have to be a vehicle with the character and cheek that only a MINI can have. The Crossover Concept had that, in my opinion, and so does the final car we’re seeing today. Looking back at the concept, you can see that it’s all there: the side grills, the lower door creese, the roofline, the big-mouth grill. Only the headlights have changed significantly. Even still, you can see their roots in the concept car. More than anything, I appreciate the great care and restraint shown by the MINI design team. This is a car of subtle elegance and rich detail. It’s not a gaudy mess of faux machismo. Instead, it’s a quietly confident little road warrior — a gentleman’s car of quiet distinction.

The interior of the R60 does not disappoint either. Taking obvious style cues from the rest of the MINI lineup, the Countryman’s interior is a much-needed refresh of the hatch’s fussy cockpit. The stereo controls appear to be significantly simplified for the better.

Changing over from the silver knobs and switches of the R56 back to the black of the R50/53 generation interior also quiets the whole center stack in a very good way. The dash isn’t so Mickey Mouse anymore. That is, except for the placement of those center air vents. C’mon, somebody had to say it! Lastly, given how much more comfortable the R56 seats are than my R53, I’m glad to read this tidbit from Gabe:

Having sat in a pre-production version of seats, I can personally confirm that the bolstering (both in the bottom seat cushion and seat back) is decidedly superior to the current sport seats in the R56.

All in all, I’m just thrilled about this car. Conceptually and aesthetically I am completely in love with it. I have only two major gripes. First, all indications are that the high-performance 2.0L diesel powerplant available in Europe will not make it to our shores. I’m looking at you, California! This is disappointing from both a fuel economy standpoint and the massive amount of torque the diesel would have provided this little AWD monster. I’d wager that in diesel trim, the Countryman would make a wonderful light tow vehicle. The silver lining is that MINI has recently announced significant efficiency and power gains to their current range of engines, which will also power the Countryman. According to MINI, by adding fully variable valvetrain to their already fuel thrifty, direct-injected engines, they’ve been able to add both power and efficiency over what we see in today’s MINI lineup. The Cooper S’s turbocharged 1.6L powerplant, for example, will be boosted to 184 hp and push the Cooper S hatch to around 40 mpg average fuel economy. That’s particularly encouraging because it could be plausible to still get 30 mpg or better out of the Countryman is Cooper S trim, even with its increased size and AWD system.

Which brings me to my second gripe: naming. I don’t mind the name Countryman, as it has roots in MINI’s heritage. What I think is, well, stupid, is that it’ll just say Cooper S on the boot. The Cooper is the hatch, dammit. Variations on the hatch make sense as Coopers, such as the convertible or the Clubman. This is an entirely different vehicle, yet for reasons lost to me, the full name will end up being MINI Cooper Countryman, or MINI Cooper S Countryman, or John Cooper Works MINI Cooper S Countryman depending on which model you get. Ridiculous. Why isn’t it simply the MINI Countryman or Countryman S? Retaining Cooper in this model doesn’t make any sense to me and smacks of a decision made because someone was afraid that people won’t know what it is if the name Cooper isn’t on it somewhere — even with a gigantic MINI logo on the boot! I didn’t like this convention with the MINI Cooper Clubman either, but at least with the Clubman it makes basic conceptual sense. The Clubman is an extended wheelbase version of the hatch. It’s the same base car. The Countryman is based on the BMW X1 and is a 4-door for goodness’ sake! It’s not the same car, and that’s okay. That’s a good thing.

These are minor gripes, though. They don’t hamper my enthusiasm for the car one bit and especially given my recent experience driving the Clubman, the MINI Countryman may in fact be the car that finally unseats me from my beloved 2006 MINI Cooper S. That will, of course, depend heavily on pricing and the reality of how it drives. But something tells me that given the absolutely stellar job MINI has done with the look and character of what we’ve seen so far, the driving experience is likely to be simply superb. I’m not expecting it to be able to chase down a Cooper S hatch through the Tail of the Dragon, but I bet it’ll still feel right at home in the corners.

A few months back I was considering whether to refinance my Cooper S or trade-in for a different car. In that process, I drove several cars including the ’09 Cooper and Cooper S back to back. What I didn’t mention in that essay is that I also drove the Cooper Clubman on that visit to the MINI dealership. I wasn’t impressed. It drove like a Cooper with a big ass. I didn’t like it. This time ’round however, I got to evaluate the Clubman S for the better part of a week completely on its own merits and came away with a completely new appreciation for this fabulous MINI variant.

What I loved
Power. Ride comfort. External design. The torquey grunt of the turbocharged R56 motor combined with the added comfort of the Clubman’s extended wheelbase reminded me of a 3-series BMW. I like the 3-series, but hate getting in and out of them. The slope of the BMW windshield, although attractive, makes it tricky to get in and out of the car comfortably because I’m so tall. One of my favorite things about the MINI is its upright windshield. Not only does it make it easier to enter and exit the car, it adds to interior space — space even more plentiful inside the extended dimensions of the Clubman. The nearly effortless quickness of the Clubman S combined with its elevated comfort made it deeply endearing. The driving dynamics further accentuated all the things I like about the R56 generation, such as the much more comfortable seats, the telescoping steering wheel, and the tapered pillars on the center stack. Did I mention the Sport button? I can’t say enough about the Sport button. The Clubman even seemed to handle better in the winter muck than its shorter siblings.

Beyond the driving experience, I love the exterior lines of the Clubman. I’m not a fan of many of the changes to the design language of the MINI since its evolution to the R56. It’s fussy. It’s a bit pretentious. Most of all it’s almost a parody of Frank Stephenson’s iconic first generation design.

This is most evident in the interior. From its fussy proportions to the maddening audio and environmental controls — I still can’t forgive most of these choices. They’ve always felt like changes for the sake of changes to me. The interior of the Clubman remains unchanged from its hatch and convertible siblings, but the squared-off rear end and sculpted roofline fit the exterior R56 design language as though this is the car they had in mind all along. More than anything, I appreciate its subtlety.

The rear end of the R56 hatch is kind of a mess — from the gaudy, oversized tail lights, to its paunchy arse below the belt line, to the choppy lines of the rear bumper. The Clubman rear, by contrast is hardly conservative in comparison, but its proportions and lines seem so much more tailored to this new generation of MINI. Where I’ve always been ambivalent to the looks of the hatch, I’m absolutely in love with the exterior lines of the Clubman. I even like the contrasting C-pillars. I especially love the barn doors and the separated duel exhaust. It’s such a handsome car from every angle. There’s a classy quality to the Clubman that the hatch just simply doesn’t have for all its faux-aggressive details.

What I don’t like
I don’t really dislike anything about the Clubman that didn’t already bother me about the rest of the R56 line. I hate the fussy interior — particularly the center dash stack and the incomprehensible stereo controls. I loathe the maddening BMW-style turn indicator stalk that is neither fully digital nor usefully analog. I greatly miss the B-pillar height adjustment for the seatbelt. Where in some places the R56 saw an improvement in the feel and weight of its interior materials, in others it’s even more flimsy and dollar store feeling than the R53. I never did warm up to the bizarre checkerboard texture on many of the interior surfaces either. The weakest Clubman-only detail in my opinion is the rear wipers. In the salty muck of the Minnesota winter, the rear window wipers of my Clubman loaner were completely inadequate. The right side wiper didn’t even work half the time. What’s encouraging is that the 2011 mid-cycle refresh of the R56 line should fix most of these issues.

The bottom line
Even with an automatic transmission, I had a passionate little affair with this car. The Clubman S with a decent option set runs an easy $30k. Although $30k for a MINI seems a bit silly at first blush, as I cruised the Twin Cities in that Clubman it felt like a $30k car ought to feel. It was poised, comfortable, sporting, yet still authentically MINI. It felt like a car that had been very, very well thought out. In so many ways I wanted to trade my Cooper S for that Clubman on the spot. There was just one thing that nagged me: all-wheel-drive. At $30k+, a car of this proportion should have all-wheel-drive if I’m going to drive it around the frozen streets of Minneapolis. But my newfound adoration for the Clubman gave way to a deeper thought. In just a few short months the MINI Countryman comes out. With that vehicle landing somewhere on the spectrum between the Clubman and the BMW X3, I’m quietly excited about the prospect of what that car will be. Sure, I don’t expect it’ll be as taut as the coupe or even the Clubman, but it just might be the perfect MINI for this Minnesotan.

Thanks again, fellas!

There were moments when I thought I was going to have to bite the bullet and pay somebody to do the job and other moments where, with the brake components in about six pieces in my lap, I thought I was thoroughly screwed. There’s an oddly satisfying perseverance needed to work on something mechanical. You want to give up. You’re tired of crawling around under a dirty machine. Something just won’t come apart or refuses to go back together. This job was three hours of that. But as much of a pain as this one brake set was, finishing that corner of the car was like standing on top of a mountain. Now I understand the rear brakes on the MINI and like so many other fix jobs on cars, that’s half the point. I’ll never have to pay for a brake job, and that alone is very, very satisfying. Tonight I do the other wheel.

The Good
My car was one of the last MINIs of its generation built at Plant Oxford before the current generation of MINIs hit the streets. It took some financial acrobatics to make the purchase when I did, but I was one proud papa in August of 2006 when I took delivery of my little silver road monster. Being very late in the model cycle, this meant that MINI and BMW had actually fixed most of the known issues in previous years of the Cooper S. I credit the late build date with my relatively trouble-free ownership experience so far. Some haven’t been so lucky. I’ve had minor issues, such as a parking brake that wouldn’t release all the way, a cracked thermostat housing, and a minor wiring issue. Oh…and a clutch replacement. But overall, my MINI has been stone reliable and still feels every bit as solid and strong as the day I bought it. My car is also pretty much rattle-free in the interior. After a few winters older MINIs become what Gabe Bridger described as “a symphony of rattles” in the dash and roof. Thankfully my car doesn’t seem to have these tremors so far.

The R53, like all MINIs, is a driver’s car. It’s not for everybody. Don’t buy one just because it’s cute. This is a car of substance and character, not an appliance for hauling your butt from A to B. There are, in fact, things about this car that the average driver wouldn’t like at all. It’s not uncomfortable, but you’re going to get a lot of feedback from the road. The steering is downright taught and if you’re not smooth with it, you’re going to jerk yourself all over the road. Having lived with the car for three years now, I’m happy to report that I haven’t gotten the least bit sick of the R53′s uncompromising character. In fact, it’s pretty much ruined me on other cars. When I thought about possibly changing cars a few months ago, it was my MINI’s obstinate temperament that couldn’t be surpassed or even matched — even by the current generation MINI. I drove several very nice cars, including the R56 Cooper S, the VW Jetta TDI, and even the Honda Insight. Each has their high points, but none could get me excited the way I feel every time I drive my car. I still turn and look back every time I arrive at my destination and get out of the car. I can’t help it. It’s just so good looking. I love the way it makes power in any gear, the way it tucks into turns and how I can put its trim size in and out of traffic at will. I love its growl, the burbling exhaust and the throaty whine of the supercharger. It’s a car that feels substantial in all the right ways, yet light and willing when needed. A car that lives in the sweet spot where performance meets style and economy. I can get 24 mpg in town zipping around like my hair is on fire. In 6th, doing 60, I can get 40. Take that, boring econoboxes of the world!

The Bad and The Ugly
The only things I can really complain about aren’t really the car’s fault with two exceptions. The down tubes on the center stack in the interior is so vertical that if you’ve got long legs like I do, the pillar is in the way of your knee. If I put my seat exactly where I want it for steering wheel distance and pedal position, then my leg ends up right against that down tube just below my knee. I can compromise my seating position just a touch and be a bit more comfortable, but it’s a trade-off. It’s not a deal-breaker, but is indeed a very noticeable improvement in the current generation of the car. If you’re not tall, it’s not really an issue, but for me, it’s my only real gripe. That and the keyless entry, which most days has a range of about 3 feet. My other complaints aren’t the car’s fault — little scuffs and scratches.

I anticipate that my only ongoing struggle with this car will be costs. A power steering pump for a Honda Civic probably costs somewhere between $50-$100 from O’Reilly’s. A power steering pump for the MINI costs a hair under $700 — and that’s before any installation labor. As my dad would say, “I can buy a car for that!” That’s an extreme example as it’s a specialized electric pump rather than the more conventional pulley-driven pump. But still, keeping this car running in the long run could be an expensive proposition. This was my principle motivation for going car shopping a few months ago. Although it makes more sense for me at this point to hang on to my MINI a while longer, cost sticks in the back of my mind. When I refinanced, I purchased an extended warranty for this very reason. I really don’t want to be on the hook for that power steering pump. Let me say though, that this is not a problem unique to the MINI. Cars these days are so much more complex and specialized than they used to be. The cost of extended ownership of any car anymore is going to be higher than what it cost to keep say a japanese car from the ’80s or ’90s on the road. As cars get even more tightly wound and complex in the name of efficiency, this problem will only worsen I’m afraid. Unfortunately, this is the price of admission for any car worth having in my opinion. I’d face the same conundrum driving a BMW, an Audi, a VW or any other nameplate worth driving rather than just riding in. It’s the price you pay for not being boring. Sure, a Toyota Camry may never break down, but if you’re a passionate driver, you very well might.

The Bottom Line
I’d buy this car again in a heartbeat. In fact, I sort of did. In considering my refinancing-or-sell options, I looked at the value proposition of what I would be getting for my money. Looking at my Cooper S as though I’d never seen it before, I asked myself “would I pay $16k for this car?” and the answer was a resounding yes. I am resolved to hang on to it for as long as is economically wise to do so. And even if and when that day comes when I sell the old boy, it’ll be with a heavy heart. There really is nothing like it available in this market. Whoever takes ownership of this brilliant little car will have something wholly unique on the motor way. But for now, you’re going to have to get your own — this one’s mine.

I also found that the more cars I test drove, the more I remembered why I love my MINI so much. The power, the cornering, the raw character and british cheek of it — there really is nothing else out there like it. Even the R56 MINI, as great as it is, lacks the darty splendor that is my Winston. But character aside, this makes the most financial sense. MINI will let me extend the warranty out to 100k miles for far less money out of pocket than purchasing another vehicle. When I look at the math and ask myself, “Would I buy this car for that money?”, the answer is a resounding “Hell yes!”

• Pepper White w/Black roof and bonnet stripes
• 16″ wheels / all-season tires
• Premium / Cold packages
• LSD
• Cloth seats, cream interior accents, piano black dash, interior chrome package
• Sat Nav (pricy, but it cleans up the center stack very nicely)
• Driving lights, rear fogs

See the full spec in the MINI Configurator (note: won’t work in Safari)

“What the heck is that?” I asked, pointing toward an open garage across the street.

“Ooh! That’s a Mini, son. C’mon, you won’t see one of these every day.” My dad replied.

Twenty yards from us was an open one-car garage with a faded blue classic Mini Cooper inside. In the dim light of the garage, I could just make out its squatty little stance and Union Jack roof graphic. I’ve inherited a big soft spot for british motors, as my dad is the original owner of a 1969 MGb GT. Dad talked to the owner about one thing or another, but I was transfixed by this groovy little car and wondered what the hell it was doing in northwest Louisiana. As we left, I was nothing but questions. I was sad to learn that emission standards and bumper height regulations meant that the Mini was only imported for a few years. Still, I was determined that someday I’d simply have to own one.

Flash forward. I’m done with school, working in advertising and design, and the CP+B branded MINI had captivated me even beyond the classic. Here was this car that by my calculations was a near mythical blend of efficiency, style, sport and cheek. What was more, I could just afford one. I’d done a nice long test drive in Kansas City and my mind was thoroughly made up. Unfortunately, I was up against a deadline.

It was 2006, and the car I’d fallen in love with was soon going to drastically change [I strongly felt] for the worse. The R53, Frank Stephenson’s Rover initiated, BMW polished masterpiece was being fiddled with by the bean counters at BMW. The design language of the new car, the R56, seemed to have a bizarre German accent and there were mechanical changes that seemed to go against common sense and good character. The raw roar of the supercharger was to be replaced by the whispy buzz of a twin-scroll turbo. The bulletproof iron block was now a fragile lump of aluminum. More alarmingly, BMW had opted for on-demand electric oil and water pump systems which just seemed like disaster waiting to happen. Then I looked at the interior changes. No. No. No! What the #@$% were they doing to my dream car? That tore it. If I was going to own a MINI, it was R53 or bust.

Long story short, I did some wrangling and managed to order my car — one of the last few hundred R53 MINIs built at Oxford — a dark silver Cooper S with a light silver roof and mirror caps, silver on silver anthracite interior, Premium/Sport/Cold packages, and 17″ rims. Todd Pearson hooked me up with a full custom front end with silver bonnet stripes and a silver hood scoop to match the roof. Gorgeous! I was in love. Not only was it a magnificent looking car, it was more powerful than I’d ever expected and cornered like nothing I’d ever experienced. No buyer’s remorse here. No sir.

Three years later, here I am. In August I come to the end of my three year MINI Select financing term and I have basically two options.

1. Refinance the balloon payment and keep the car.
2. Trade in/sell my MINI and buy/lease something else.

Three years ago when I bought the car, #2 was not an option. I was going to keep this car for 40 years, just like my dad has kept his MG. That was still the plan up until this last Thursday. Last Thursday I had what turned out to be a short in my dash wiring that gave me a false ABS/flat tire warning. Simultaneously, the thermostat housing catastrophically failed and the car nearly overheated. If I hadn’t been watching the gauges because of the ABS warning, I may not have noticed the temperature needle shoot skyward. Thankfully I did notice and shut the car off just as that light came on and avoided doing any damage to the engine.

A call to MINI Roadside Assistance and 90 minutes later, I received the fob to an R56 Cooper loaner car. I’ve had these Cooper loaners before and frankly, they’re dangerous. They’re dangerous because they’re so much more comfortable than my R53. Every time I drive one, I kinda want one. I ended up keeping this loaner for four days while Motorwerks mended my MINI. What was supposed to be only a strictly platonic business arrangement turned into a torrid affair. I fell in love with that confounded Cooper, on/off oil pump, automatic transmission and all.

Shit.

Not only did this mean that I needed to swallow quarts of my own bile from the comment sections of Motoringfile, but it meant that I needed to seriously reconsider my entire approach to car ownership. Am I willing to part with MY car for something better? Was I keeping my car for the right reasons? Is it even remotely practical or even possible to keep a 2006 MINI running for 40 years? It’s a pretty big brain shift going from “keep it forever” to “drive something else for the next three years or so and then change again.” What’s more, I am tempted hard by the Cooper, not just the Cooper S. The Cooper is so appealing in its little quirky way. The mileage is fan-frakking-tastic, the looks have really grown on me, it’d mean a much lower car payment than I make now, and bottom line: it’s a profoundly more comfortable car. I fit in it better and the ride quality is worlds better.

So yesterday, as I returned my loaner car and picked up my repaired MINI, I stopped by the sales department. They were kind enough to let me demo first a 2009 Cooper, then a 2009 Cooper S, both with manual transmissions. If I made a move away from my MINI, I really just can’t see myself driving anything else but another MINI.

In the Cooper, I worked my way through a small urban area, then zipped up and down 35W for a while. The Cooper actually reminds me a lot of my Vespa Grantourismo. The power is there, as is the speed, but it’s not a brute. It’s swift, but delicately so. When you really know the car, you can wring lots of speed out of it, but not by simply mashing on the pedal. In a lot of ways, the R56 Cooper feels about as powerful and quick as my R53 Cooper S, just minus the torquey power-on-demand I get from my supercharger. The Cooper is an extremely easy car to drive mated to the Getrag 6-speed manual gearbox, and especially so in town. “I could have a really good time in this car.” I thought to myself.

Next I drove the Cooper S on the same route. I’d previously driven an R56 Cooper S on a short demo in 2007 and frankly wasn’t impressed with it. It felt numb and seemed to lack that uncivilized, raw power I could get from my R53. Now that I’m much more used to the R56 platform, I was able to unleash the S for the turbocharged monster that it really is.

Wow! What had I done? Why did I drive this car? I should have known better.

The R56 MCS isn’t simply a little quicker than my R53. There’s a world of difference. The overboost, the giant swell of torque, the rally car growl and the comfortable sharpness of the handling were beyond a simple improvement compared to my R53. At one point I was going state prison fast as the car and I slingshot down the onramp and blurred past traffic. I wasn’t actually trying to go that fast, I just wanted to punch it and see what would happen. Wow. Did I say wow? Wow. Now I’m conflicted. Do I drive the dancer or the monster? I’m not sure how I feel about it yet.

Throughout this process, I’ve been rethinking my whole outlook on cars and my outlook on “stuff” in general. I think that many of us perceive that what we drive can say a lot about who we are if we want it to. A car or a bike or a scooter or how we dress — these are all statements we make about ourselves. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. When those things define us — define who we are — rather than the other way around, then that isn’t healthy, of course, and it’s an easy thing to fall into. We are always communicating something, whether we want to or not. The Prius owner often has as much to say in their purchase as the Hummer driver. They’re just saying different things. For a lot of people, they’re driving a car that says “I don’t care what I drive so long as I get there.” That’s a statement too, and a good one. And really, most people are just driving and don’t give a second’s thought about their car, their clothes, or their 401(k). That’s alright too, and healthy in its own way.

Being unemployed for several months this year put a lot of these sorts of PR notions into sharp perspective for me. What do I really stand for? What are my priorities? What am I communicating to other people intentionally and unintentionally? It’s easy to get all image conscience, but that isn’t the point. In reality, very few people will ever give a crap what I’m driving, and I’m not going to make my buying decisions based on those perceptions really at all. I just know they’re there and want to make sure that what I’m communicating about myself is above all else authentic.

I think the biggest lesson I learned from being unemployed was the value of enough. There is a profound freedom in having only the things your really need and a few of the things you really want. There is comfort in actually living within one’s means. My wife and I recently moved into a smaller apartment. Our previous place was simply more space than we needed and more expense than was worth paying. So we downgraded. We dropped two bedrooms, 1-1/2 baths, 500 square feet, and we absolutely love our new place. It’s just right for us and our mutts. In a lot of ways, I’m thinking that a change to the R56 Cooper might also be just the ticket. Then again, that Cooper S is one beautiful monster.

I’ve got until July or so to figure out this car conundrum. Do I hang on to my car — a car I really do love in spite of its subtle faults? Do I keep my monthly payments roughly the same and drive a beastly Cooper S? Do I save money, embrace “enough” and cruise ’round in a Cooper? Do I depart from MINI all together and lease a Honda Insight or a Jetta TDi? It’s amazing the emotional attachments we make to something as silly as a car, yet here I am, utterly conflicted. This is a fun problem to have, that’s for sure. Definitely a first world problem.

My car vs. Cooper vs. Cooper S vs. ???

Time will tell.