1989 Saab 900 Turbo Convertible 2-door 2.0l on 2040-cars

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What car brand should come back?

Congratulations, wishful thinker! You've been granted one wish by the automotive genie or wizard or leprechaun or whoever has been gifted with that magical ability. You get to pick one expired, retired or fired automotive brand and resurrect it from its heavenly peace! But which one? That's a tough decision and not one to be made lightly. As we know from car history, the landscape is littered with failed brands that just didn't have what it took to cut it in the dog-eat-dog world of vehicle design, engineering and marketing. So many to choose from! Because I am not a car historian, I'll leave it to a real expert to present a complete list of history's automotive misses from which you can choose, if you're a stickler about that sort of thing. And since I'm most familiar with post-World War II cars and brands, that's what I'm going to stick to (although Maxwell, Cord and some others could make strong arguments). So, with the parameters established, let's get started, shall we? Hudson: I admit, I really don't know a lot about Hudson, except that stock car drivers apparently did pretty well with them back in the day, and Paul Newman played one in the first Cars movie. But really, isn't that enough to warrant consideration? Frankly, I think the Paul Newman connection is reason enough. What other actor who drove race cars was cooler? James Dean? Steve McQueen? James Garner? Paul Walker? But, I digress. That's a story for another day. Plymouth: As the scion of a Dodge family (my grandfather had a Dodge truck, and my mom had not one, but two Dodge Darts – the rear-wheel-drive ones with slant sixes in them, not the other one they don't make any more), I tend to think of Plymouth as the "poor man's Dodge." But then you have to consider the many Hemi-powered muscle cars sold under the Plymouth brand, such as the Road Runner, the GTX, the Barracuda, and so on. Was there a more affordable muscle car than Plymouth? When you place it in the context of "affordable muscle," Plymouth makes a pretty strong argument for reanimation. Oldsmobile: When I was a teenager, all the cool kids had Oldsmobile Cutlasses, the downsized ones that came out in 1978. At one point, the Olds Cutlass was the hottest selling car in the land, if you can believe that. Then everybody started buying Honda Civics and Accords and Toyota Corollas and Camrys, and you know the rest. But going back farther, there's the 442 – perhaps Olds' finest hour when it came to muscle cars.

Meet the other Cadillac wagon. It's as American as ABBA

The Cadillac CTS Wagon became a cult classic the second it went on sale. We all knew that it was never going to sell in anything approaching significant numbers, and if that "we" didn't include those actually working at GM, one would have to wonder what they were smoking. Cadillac was still having a hard enough time trying to convince people that it was now a BMW-fighting sport luxury brand rather than the purveyor of Grandpa-piloted land yachts. To many, a sport sedan like the CTS seemed like a stretch. But a CTS sport wagon? It sure seemed like GM was just doing things for funzies, an impression only enhanced by the CTS-V Wagon. Forget cult classic. That thing was an instant legend.  And yet, the CTS wasn't the only Cadillac of that era offered as a wagon. It wasn't even the first. Before GM said "to hell with it, let's have some fun" on this side of the pond, over in Europe, it had already taken a page from its old badge-engineering playbook to create the 2006 Cadillac BLS Wagon. It was available as a sedan, too, but its awkward majesty is best enjoyed as the long-roof model.  There's just something off about the whole thing, right? That's probably because it also looks vaguely familiar, as if you've seen it before. So where the hell does this thing come from? Sweden! Behind that Cadillac Art and Science face is a Saab 9-3, and in the case of the BLS Wagon, the Saab 9-3 Sport Combi wagon. The roofline is the dead giveaway, as no other wagon has ever looked like that. In fact, the roof and windows were the only exterior elements to copy directly over from 9-3 to BLS. No kidding. With the Cadillac front end, doesn't the Saab-funky-boxiness make it look like a miniature hearse? The answer is yes. GM's design team, led by Ed Welburn, was quite pleased with his work. Perhaps it even egged him on to create a real Cadillac sport wagon? "The whole team was very excited to apply Cadillac's design language to a wagon for the first time," said Welburn in a press release from the time. "The V-shaped chrome-plated grille, a Cadillac hallmark, is picked up again by the shape of the rear window, and the body side character lines make it unmistakably a Cadillac." The interior is surprisingly different from the 9-3, including the ignition switch migrating from the center console up to the steering column. It also wasn't exactly in keeping with the Cadillac norm of the time.

Why won't automakers slap on a turbo badge anymore?

Where have all the turbos gone? Not the actual pieces that go in the engine, mind you, those are everywhere these days as automakers downsize cylinder counts and boost efficiency and CO2 claims. But the turbo badges and fanfare are missing. Back when turbos were something to get excited about there was "turbo-driven," "turbonium," and "The Turbo Zone," among other silly lines. But now that basically every car is getting some sort of boost even on the lowliest trims, automakers are almost sliding in the turbos under the radar. Or if you look at some of the nomenclature, pretending they don't exist at all. The 911 Turbo badge shows where the car goes from being sane to lunatic. It's an important border. The latest automaker to hide that it has boosted the turbo presence is Porsche with the 2017 911 lineup. Even the standard Carrera models now get turbocharged flat-six engines, meaning the 911 Turbo models aren't quite as special as they once were. Porsche is in a sticky situation with this. The 911 Turbo, after all, signifies where the 911 family takes off from being a sports car and becomes the Ferrari fighter. The 911 Turbo badge shows where the car goes from being sane to lunatic. It's an important border, but now Porsche has crossed it and is trying to downplay the fact. There are a lot of exaggerations with displacement badges today, with claims the 2.0-liter turbo four in a Mercedes C Class equates to a naturally aspirated 3.0-liter six to make a C300. Volvo is pretty far up there, too, saying an XC90 T8 means V8 power, even though it's a 2.0-liter turbocharged and supercharged four with electric assist. I don't know why BMW can't just call the car a 330i Turbo, rather than inflating the numbers up to 340i. Saab tried all of this back in the '90s when it decided to turbocharge its entire lineup, from light pressure units all the way up to models actually called "Saab 9-3 HOT" (for high-output turbo). But then the brand deleted any external reference to the turbo under the hood and people wondered why they were buying a $42,000 four-cylinder convertible. And that didn't turn out well. Even though these turbo replacements often make more power than their naturally aspirated predecessors, they're very different engines. People knew something changed when they exchanged their leased 328i with a 3.0-liter six for a 328i with a 2.0-liter turbo four.