Everyone needs transportation.  No one wants basic transportation.  If, as is often argued, people find their cars to be more personal in a public sense than any other consumer product they buy, then who is going to want something bland?  (I suspect that even bland people don't perceive themselves as bland—hell, I could be bland for all I know.)

One of the characteristics of the auto industry is that everyone wants to talk about the high-horsepower, high-trim vehicles.  Yet there are plenty of people for whom those cars and trucks are irrelevances.  Has anyone noticed that the unemployment rate is rising and that there are a whole lot of people who have jobs who probably haven't had raises for quite some time?  As if those people are going to roll into a dealership and ask for the loaded ute or opt for the $2,000 nav system.

Small cars matter.  People who are looking for economy at the pump, for example, are people who are still looking for something a little special when they go into a dealership.  An EPA rated 25/31 mpg for the manual transmission-equipped Protegé ES sedan might get their attention; a test drive will really get it, as this car has a certain zip that satisfies.  No, it's not the sort of thing that is going to blow anyone off the road—there is, after all a 130-hp, 2.0-liter four under the hood.  Yet the vehicle, with its 16-in. five-spoke alloy wheels wrapped with comparatively low-profile 195/50 SR-16 tires and a rear spoiler (that some people like, but which I find to be rather silly on vehicles of this ilk—in fact, short of a Porsche or something that would be appropriate for Fast & Furious 3: No Brains, No Glory, they should be eschewed), has a certain peppiness that goes beyond econoboxiness.  (The one we drove had a base price of $15,880, and with a moonroof, 6-CD audio system, ABS (with electronic brake force distribution), side airbags, delivery, processing, and handling, the tab came to $17,580—well below the average transaction cost for vehicles today, so there is some economy here.)  The MacPherson struts in the front, twin-trapezoidal link suspension in the rear, supplemented by stiffer stabilizer bars (this is, after all, the ES we're talking about), provide a responsive ride.

Inside, the white-faced gauges are nicely arrayed on an black IP that has faux-but-not phony brushed stainless trim on the center stack, and a touch of what can be described as "karbon fiber" (a la the "krab" that you can sometimes pick up in the supermarket).  The seats are firm yet comfortable.  In fact, if the exterior were as nice as the interior, this car would probably be a better seller.  While the front end of the car, with a black grille and fog-lights has a moderately sporty look, as you move toward the back of the car, and get to the rear, the vehicle looks, well, too economical for its own good (to speak somewhat euphemistically here).  In fact, it's almost as if the car had two exterior designers: one fore, one aft.  The devil should take the hindmost—and leave with it.

(You can learn more about the car at: http://www.mazdausa.com/MusaWeb/h andleHomeFlash.action?vehicleCode=PRO&modelYear=2003