By AARON COLE
Managing Editor, MediaOne of Utah
Land yacht. Beach cruiser. Country club sailboat. Or just simply, “Dad’s car.”
All of these are clever terms to describe an automobile with enough savoir faire to glide across potholes smoother than hot lather applied by a barber and more cruising comfort than newly applied Fixodent.
This isn’t like your dad’s car — this is your dad’s car.I know what you’re expecting me to do. I know you think it’s coming.
You’re expecting me to bag on it because I’m not a card-carrying member of AARP. You’re expecting me to call it boring, stuffy and less-exciting to drive than doing your taxes.
I refuse to do that, it’s a very good car. But I’m telling you that the 2011 Toyota Avalon is all of those things: boring, stuffy, smoother than denture paste and comfortable like a straight-razor shave.
It’s supposed to be that way.
Toyota targeted the 60 and older crowd like a silver-haired missile and so far has succeeded by building a luxury sedan that quietly shuffles along highways and roads smoother than moustache wax.
Is there anything wrong with that?
Well, no.
Think of it this way: Other carmakers spend time building muddled compositions that straddle segment lines and end up satisfying no one. Who wants a family sedan that’s halfway built for a teenager? Who wants a sporty coupe with optional attachment for a Little Rascal scooter on the trunk?
The Avalon is firmly set in reality in this way, it’s a grown up car for grown up people. Pure, plain and simple.
What you get for $32,445 to start is a silky smooth six-cylinder engine that gingerly powers the Avalon forward with 268 horsepower and a standard six-speed automatic transmission that saunters through gears like an afternoon stroll by the lake.
To say that the Avalon is smooth is an understatement. The Toyota Avalon is silkier than Dean Martin’s voice coated in mayonnaise.
Inside, the spacious Avalon meets or exceeds expectations in nearly every way.
While the branding on the outside is distinctly Toyota, the interior is undeniably Lexus.
Road noise is blanketed to a whisper on the inside and Toyota’s grand seating is enough space for four to comfortably drive to the moon and back.
Our test model came equipped with satellite navigation and just about every other goodie that one could order in the Avalon and it wasn’t so much that it felt gaudy. It could be said about the Avalon engineers that everything on the inside of the car certainly had it’s place.
The only knock on the inside — if I’m forced to have one — is the cabin is so big that reaching across the stereo to manipulate climate control or navigation buttons is a bit of a stretch.
Carpeting is plush and the seats, although a little thin, are wildly comfortable for a sub-$40,000 luxury car.
Which brings us to the price.
Normally, sedans built for the older crowd carry an older crowd price. For too long, automakers have capitalized on the relative wealth of anyone who can afford to retire. But the Avalon backs away from the class by offering value and luxury for around $35,000 nicely equipped.
Which means that for more than $3,000 less than the Lexus ES350, a slightly smaller vehicle, Toyota runs the risk of driving potential customers from the luxury brand and back toward the Toyota’s dealer lots.
Which is to say that the automaker knows the demographic that is most likely to buy the Avalon best: the early bird crowd.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
Aaron Cole is a syndicated auto columnist and managing editor of MediaOne of Utah, and has driven hundreds of new cars — but only briefly. By most accounts he is wrong and has proudly been banned on Internet message boards. Send complaints, compliments or supplemental income to aaron.m.cole@gmail.com
