The extent of my understanding of the Lincoln line of cars has historically been limited to the Towncars that have taken me to the airport and the limousines that have taken me almost nowhere, except for maybe a wayside place of unexpected fun here and there. When I took out the Lincoln MKZ for an exceptionally long drive, I was handicapped by my own inability to foster a preconceived notion, but I have to tell you, it’s a pretty nice car.

If you’re looking strictly for fuel economy, this is not the car for you, and I’ll tell you why as a diehard motor-head myself. With available all-wheel-drive and a traction control system as solid as you’ll find on the market, the MKZ has ample horsepower on tap to take you to true-sports car speeds while still hugging the road like the sort of power-connoisseur who doesn’t know sand from sticky. That’s me, and I know because I’ve wrecked race cars, myself. The MKZ is fast as hell, but still grabs the pavement, and even more so with the AWD option. If you’re merging in the slush, pulling into traffic from the sand, or just hammering it hard on dry pavement, you’ve got all the power available with all the traction you could ever want, and that’s without paying $250 a tire like you will with the likes of the Corvette, Viper and others. I’ve had it both ways, so trust me, this isn’t just a feature, it’s a benefit.

Count on the horsepower of this car to rocket your quiet, unassuming self to record speeds, all without attracting undue attention from the police.

Thing is, I drove it on dry, wet, frozen and sandy pavement, and every time I had more horsepower than I knew what to do with. You can turn off the traction control, you know, as if you might wish to do mad doughnuts all across the Park-N-Ride parking lot, but I didn’t have the guts nor nuts to even consider it, and I’d advise you likewise refrain until you’ve bought the car. You can spin this girl around all day if you want to pay for the tires and risk slamming a telephone pole, but short of having it as your own, I don’t recommend it… I mean, it will do it, don’t get me wrong, I’m just saying that as sure as it was a bad idea 30-years ago, it’s still not entirely the sort of thing I would advise.

It’s as safe a car as you’ll hope to find. The Lincoln has the intelligent traction control, ABS, dual front, corner and side-curtain airbags standard, but it’s also built with a rugged detail. A quick and quiet close of the door yields the same outcome as a slam of the door – it’s a solid-built car, and you can feel it. The doors are thick and well reinforced, and the front corners have all the built-in intuitive safety you could ask for.

It used to be that if you wanted “import-styling”, you had to buy an import, but the tides of style have ebbed, and you’re now free to buy a Honda that looks like a Hummer, a Mercury that looks like an Acura and a Cadillac that looks like, well, I’m not sure exactly, but it doesn’t look much at all like a Cadillac… and it shouldn’t, it’s built in Germany, so buy American, be American, but it’s built in Deutschland, so whatever helps you sleep at night is good enough for me.

But if you want a truly American car that embodies the European design style, you honestly need look no further than this. The MKZ is a dyed-in-the-wool American, luxury, super car, just like from the 60s and 70s that’s still got Americana written all over it.

You won’t find more comfort, unless you want a slacking, lackadaisical couch-car, or more horsepower, unless you want a sports car (and I’ve got plenty of those to tell you about as well), than the Lincoln MKZ. If you’re in to the European, slightly smaller sort of styling, this is as good of a domestic car as you’ll find. It’s gorgeous, handsomely appointed, fast as hell, and if you’re able to overlook a handful of decidedly American shortcomings, it’s easily all the car you could ever want.

Did I mention it’s wickedly fast?

As the American auto companies have appeared to fall behind in quality, which is unfair since their warranties have been as good as any in the market, and every bit of it fully honored, they’ve been accused of also falling behind in styling. This is an assessment as unfair as the varied tastes in buyers. Do you prefer shiny or matte, decadent or subtle, plush or performance? I’d argue it’s a matter of taste and personal desire for one of the assorted styles out there, and if you’re looking for something unique, the MKZ offers about as uncommon a trim package as you’ll hope to find. Once in the cockpit, which is what I’ve taken to calling the driver’s area of modern cars these days, you’ll have to decide whether or not the styling fits your personality. It’s a radical departure for sure, and it may not be for you, but it is unique, interesting and perfectly stylish.

The Lincoln MKZ comes with available Navigation (at a tad more than I’d usually expect to pay) plus features like All-Wheel-Drive and Serius Radio (both at far, far less than I’d expect to pay), along with the market’s cheapest seat-coolers (at just $495 for the package, you won’t find black leather seats any cooler this side of Alaska). All in all, I’d say half the options are slightly overpriced, but I’d also say that half the features are significantly under-priced, so you’ll have to check it out for yourself and weigh your options.

One of the best fronts on which the Ford engineers have lodged their attack is that of design. You can argue it’s an easy way to go, since it’s technically a cheap way to go, but I’d say that’s only true if you have some idea what counts for favorable styling. The interior is cool and clean like I’d imagine my spaceship would be, had I just born 300-years later. The controls are intuitive, and instead of an option “wood trim” package, it offers an “aluminum trim” package. I grew up working summers milling and plating aluminum, and this trim is as deluxe as it comes. The only question is whether or not it fits your personality, and that’s a question only you can answer. It’s an option, but at a handful-of-hundred bucks, I’d recommend it, if not for you, for the resale value, because this is one-of-a-kind, and it’s likely to hold its value better than standard wood.

Even the climate control vents give off an air of air most uncommon. They’re invisible until you use them, and they look really sharp. I can’t say that such styling benefits even remotely equate to engineering prominence, but it’s something I haven’t seen elsewhere, and it delighted me, even if I was preoccupied with the nasty, local weather that threatened to throw me into a guardrail.

If I were to have a complaint or contested point of consideration, believe you me that I always do. The car starts out at about $30,000 and goes up very quickly from there. If it was my money I’d probably lean towards an entry-level BMW, Mercedes, Audi, Volvo, or just about any of the premium Japanese imports. This car is designed to cut into the markets of the imports, so if you’re still hell-bent on buying American despite your obviously predisposed penchant for foreign cars, this is plainly one of just a few to consider. If you’re not brand loyal, you may wish instead to just buy the car you covet, since it may be cheaper, more feature-rich and offer a better lifespan (even if merely based on statistical probabilities) than this America offering.

If this was a $25,000 car, it would be a no-brainer, I’d tell you that you have no choice to buy it, assuming a sedan is what would fit your needs. Since it’s a $30,000 to $40,000 car, you’ll want to seriously consider what’s most important to you between brand loyalty, features, comfort and the other assorted comforts up for grabs at this price break.

The real problem Ford and their subsidiary brands face in marketing this car is that it’s priced akin to the well-appointed likes of BMW, Mercedes Benz, Volvo, Acura and the assorted other imports that offer comparable levels of comfort at this price, despite significantly better track records for reliability, satisfaction and resale value. That doesn’t mean it isn’t a great car – I truly believe that it is – but that Lincoln has a tough arena of competition, whether head-to-head or otherwise.

Truth is, for the money, there are a couple of bells and whistles missing I’d really like to have. Maybe it’s the absence of the backup camera, sunroof or admittedly uncommon DVD player. It’s a luxurious ride and I’ve enjoyed my handful of days behind the wheel, but for the sticker price a driver might expect a bit more.

And as with almost every American car, you don’t have the 110% degree of engineering. There are panels on your front console that might not line up perfectly, leather trim pieces that are asymmetrical, and an assortment of at-hand comforts that are just out of reach, such as the 80s era headlight controls or the keys themselves that haven’t been visibly updated since the 1960s. If these are deal breakers, I’d hope to question your patriotism, or frankly what’s important to you in a car, regardless of where this car was built, and to what I can only assume is our mutual chagrin, so would Ford likewise assume.

My biggest complaint is the price, but bear in mind that I’m a cheapskate. It’s not that I wouldn’t pay the $30k-plus-the-goodies for the sticker, because I’ve paid far more than that before, but that I expect something a little flashier for it. If the price is too high, you’re looking at the wrong car. It’s a face-value car, so if you test drive it and don’t like it, then you’re done. But if you do, well, it might be time to get back to thinkin’ Lincoln.

If you’re looking for the most Euro of Amri-car, this is very likely where you’ll land. It’s mad-fast, pretty if you’re into this sort of beauty, and engineered to the sort of standard Lincoln is counting on to preserve the very lifeblood of it’s line.