2013 Lincoln MKS is Downton on wheels

If you've ever worn a great suit, or even a particularly fine sports jacket, chances are good that you are familiar with the notion that what you wear can influence how you feel. According to a recent post on the interesting blog "The Hemline Economy," (http://courtneybriggs.com/thehemlineeconomy/) it's a scientifically-proven phenomenon known as "enclothed cognition," and it can range from feeling more charitable while wearing a LiveStrong bracelet to being a better dancer once you don your dancing shoes. And as was my case last week, it can elevate a starving writer to proper power broker status, if what that writer is getting into is a brand new Lincoln MKS. 

Perhaps a little back story is in order. 

Although automotive journalism might be one of those rare and elusive ultimate jobs, for the majority of us motoring journalists, it pays only slightly more than abject slavery. "But wait," you say, "don't you get to drive all kinds of cool cars?!" And to that I would have no choice but to answer in the affirmative. However, as none of the manufacturers have yet to give me an edible car nor seem terribly inclined to give me one to live in, there still exists a very real need for actual money, and on that particular front, attempting to fashion a career from one's writing can leave a lot to be desired. Like an annual income that broaches the poverty line. 

But, from within the well-trimmed confines of a fully loaded Lincoln MKS, all those problems seemed like the woes of someone else... someone who's title should be "personal assistant." Yes indeed, with deep, lustrous chrome and burled walnut stretching as far as the eye could see, it didn't take long to adopt the airs of a Downton-dwelling aristocrat. Driving past bus stops and snickering at the plight of those that would rely on filthy public transit, I had plenty of time to reflect on such important subjects as the European debt crisis, and whether or not the maple syrup aroma of the new $100 notes was intentional, or accidental. 

I had all this time for reflection because the MKS pretty much takes all the effort out of driving. With amenities that range from a lane-tracking system designed to keep you between the white lines (it will actually correct it's course, if you allow it) to radar-guided cruise control to a control interface that doesn't even require you exert the effort required to depress a button, cruising along at any speed in the EcoBoost-powered MKS is really an exercise in effortlessness. 

Thanks to all this automation, the hulking footprint of the MKS almost seems to disappear around you in tight confines, and although you certainly won't be stuffing it in any overcrowded parallel parking spaces, it's easily manoeuvred into and out of most situations. And that's a bit remarkable really, when you consider that at just over 17 feet long, the MKS is over a foot longer than a Land Rover LR4 and just one inch shy of BMW's limo-like long wheelbase 750Li sedan. Due in part to the taller seating position (the thing stands 5'1" tall) and excellent ergonomics, it's easy to pilot the gigantic sedan through traffic, and although it's flowing silhouette may not indicate it, you get a pretty good feeling for precisely where the bumpers are. 

But, like any aristocrat worth his ivory cufflinks, it's really in its element once you leave the nest of the workers bees and head out to what well-heeled Canadians call "cottage country." Cruising comfortably at pretty much any speed within reach of its 365 horsepower twin-turbocharged engine, the big Lincoln's hushed cabin is library-quiet at highway speeds, with the only real noise coming from the occasional slap of its gigantic 255-series tires wrapped around equally mammoth, but to scale, 20" wheels. It's here that you can really enjoy the finer things in life, like it's plush heated and cooled leather seats that adjust in about eleventeen different directions, and will actually massage your back and legs. Or perhaps, if massage isn't your thing, you can use the self-steering lane keeping system and self-braking cruise control on a straight stretch to free up both hands for manipulation of the touch-sensitive control interface and capacitive sliding switch that control the top-notch audio system. Should your hired help have gone home early and left you having to endure the tiresome chore of driving about town at night, you can rely on the Lincoln to manage your high beams as well... after all, continually flicking them on and off can just get so... ugh. 

But wait, what's that? A BMW 535i in the rear view mirror, gaining fast? What nerve, interrupting Bach's Double Violin Concerto with his incessant HIDs fairly bursting through the self-tinting rear view mirror and into your retinas. Well, worry no longer, as it doesn't take much but a slight flexing of the right calf to deploy a whopping 55 more horsepower than he could ever hope to command. Best of all, with the ridiculously flat torque curve of the EcoBoost pairing beautifully with the all-wheel drive and torque vectoring systems of the MKS, it's as far from the blustery, dramatic affair many of those "new money" types seem to live for... on the contrary, extracting speed from the MKS is about as lazily effortless as eating peeled grapes. 

Interestingly, it was only when it came time to hand the keys back over to Ford's press fleet management, and the worries and cares of my woefully plebeian life caught up with me like a bill collector that the MKS' laissez faire attitude really struck home. Of all the various vehicles on the market today, few can match the effortless manner in which the MKS accomplishes everything that's asked of it, and none can even hope to come close at its price point. Although far from cheap, $62,000 puts you in a vehicle that lands somewhere between the A6/5-series/E-class and their respective larger, flagship brethren. Pairing the relaxed, offhand manner of its aristocratic side with the practical power delivery of its EcoBoost-motivated all-wheel drive system, the MKS is the perfect blend of luxury and practicality. Now, if only the voice activated system worked when addressed as "Jeeves..."