The 2012 Subaru Impreza
When I speak about cars that say “I give up on life,” I am referring to vehicles, notorious for being driven by people who have pretty much settled down completely in life, cars strictly for practicality, function and purpose, but have absolutely zero fun or redeeming aspects about them other than the absolutely necessary. Prominent members of the I give up on life car club include the Chevrolet Lumina, Ford Taurus, Dodge Stratus, and more recently the Toyota Camry. The Honda Accord would make the list if not for the gallant efforts by its coupe iteration that keep the name from being completely square.
If you’re remotely car-savvy, or sort of familiar with the features of modern cars, you’ll notice that these are all cars that are nondescript four-door sedans that are essentially people movers and a means to an end. Nothing special, the basic of amenities and standards, to move from point A to point B in as much obscurity as possible.
You don’t drive any car in the I give up on life club for fun, enjoyment or leisure. Period.
I saw this commercial, and the whole time it’s going through, I’m thinking Toyota Camry, or maybe a Volkswagen. I don’t recognize the car’s body at all, but it’s pretty much a born-to-be member of the I give up on life club. As the car backs out of the driveway, and fades into the call out, I’m mortified when it says “the all-new 2012 Subaru Impreza.“
This was really sad to me. For whatever reason, Subaru has decided to forsake the name of the Impreza, and throw it into the I give up on life club. Officially the WRX and the WRX STi exist with the Impreza name attached, but unofficially, nobody bothers to say such. The Imprezas without turbos are really their own thing, and now they’re being marketed as exactly what they’ve become – I give up on life cars.
There was once a time when I really loved the Subaru Impreza. It also happened to look like this at the time:
I really wanted one, but the idea of additional maintenance of all-wheel drive, higher insurance premiums and the already higher-than-average price point of the car is what prevented me from seriously getting one in my younger days. But it was always a car that I revered as a sweet fucking ride, and I would have loved to have had one.
As you can see, it’s a quite stark contrast to what’s being sold today. Gone completely are all 2-door iterations, all available as four-door sedans or five-door wagons. The engines are now this pedestrian 2.0 liter engine, down from the robust, high-potential 2.5 liter RS engines, that focus more on fuel economy than a having a little bit of fun. I can’t blame them for that given today’s gas prices, but it does seem a little like throwing in the towel in terms of performance.
But overall, the Impreza of today just looks like a boring fucking car. It doesn’t have the menacing narrow headlights, the big, expansive fog lights, or as much as they were essentially purely aesthetic features, the hood scoop and the rear spoiler. The gold rims on the old Impreza? Yeah, they’re actually factory option.
I’m sure that the Impreza is actually a fine car that serves its purpose in today’s society. There’s a good chance that I’ll end up driving one, one day, as a rental car when I’m on the road in some unknown city. But when it comes to the heritage and lineage of the Impreza name, Subaru has seen it fit to send it backwards in time, and allow it to give up on life.
I kind of want to pour a little bit out the next time I have a drink, for this most definitely dead homey.
