Fuzzy logic was developed by Lotfi A. Zadeh.  He determined that things aren't necessarily as binary—yes/no, on/off—as some people would like to think that they are.  A fundamental consideration is based on what's known as "soft linguistic" terms.  That is, you might think that you know what "tall" is, as in "Wilt 'The Stilt' Chamberlain' is a tall man."  But then there's Yao Ming, and ol' Wilt doesn't seem so lofty.

"So what," you may be wondering, "does this have to do with the 2003 Honda Odyssey minivan that this piece is purportedly about?"  Well, I starting thinking about what "new" means.  As in "This is a new vehicle."  Apparently, when one buys a car, no sooner does it cross the driveway out of the dealership, it loses value.  It is no longer considered "new."  While it hasn't exactly become "used," it still isn't in the state it once was.

Generally, when you read car reviews, they are "new car" reviews.  A 2003 Odyssey is still a new car in that context.  But—and yes, I'm about to get to the point, so don't hit that "Return" button with frustration borne of despair—the 2003 Odyssey that I spent a week driving had more than 10,000 miles on it.  And so by most measures, that would be considered to be a "slightly used" minivan.  It was nearing that 12,000 mark, when, certainly, it would be considered to be a flat-out used vehicle.

I bring this up because the vehicle, while well maintained (probably more well maintained than most people would maintain their vehicle), was still remarkable.  It had endured weeks of driving by automotive journalists—few of whom are known for their driving gentleness—and yet the vehicle was solid.  No squeaks.  No rattles.  The 3.5-liter, 24-valve V6 engine was just audibly discernable.

When a normal person (and you can apply fuzzy logic thinking to that adjective) puts down in excess of $30,000 for a vehicle (the one in question here is the EX version with leather and a navigation system), then s/he expects that there are no squeaks and rattles and just engine purring.  And that was my experience.  That is a laudable aspect of what has become, to Chrysler's dismay, the standard among minivans.

A minivan is fundamentally a means to transport people.  Sometimes there are fewer people and more stuff, which is accommodated in the Odyssey by the fold-flat rear seat.  (The fly-in-the-ointment there is that the headrests must be removed for the complete origami move.)  Although one might imagine that those who buy minivans are people who have kids to deliver from here to there, the interior of the EX was far more plush than a vehicle that will have Cheerios ground into the carpet and fries wedged into the seat cushions should be.

That, of course, is just a quibble.  And quibbling is about all one can do to vis-à-vis the Odyssey.  For example, the switches for the front heated seats—that's right, heated seats—are located on the door panels, in front of the map pocket.  They are neither easily found nor ergonomically positioned.  Another quibble: the buttons on the audio system (AM/FM/CD, with six speakers) are awfully small.  Another quibble: the clock is located on the lower-right corner of the navigation screen, which strikes me as being very unHondalike.  And, finally, the navigation system itself, which has a soft Japanese female voice providing instructions, was too difficult to turn off in the event that you just wanted to abandon your set route and look at a map instead.

All in all, the Odyssey is an impressive minivan.  And there's nothing fuzzy about that.