Its very rare that we award the accolade of the “worst car of the week” twice to one car manufacture but Aston Martin has now racked up 3 of these infamous accolades. If you can call them that. We love Aston Martin and would die defending the company like people have died in the name of liberty and justice through the ages. But I ask you where is the justice in making an Aston Martin crossover? The accountants will point out that the board members and shareholders haven’t had a dividend in ages. Making more cars will increase sales, entering new segments is the way and as much as our stomachs turn inside out at the thought of an Aston Martin SUV we have come to accept this deviation from tradition. Lets not talk about the Cygnet, that was Aston’s enforced Nadir moment. But I lie awake at night, tossing and turning, suffering from insomnia at the very thought of an Aston Martin being made in America, the American’s kicked us British out of their country hundreds of years ago and they are welcoming us back, vis-a-vie Aston Martin. Its true, Aston Martin are contemplating building an SUV in America, even entertaining the very thought is an automotive hate crime. Send in the police, call Interpol. Making an Aston Martin in America, of any derivative, is like Ford making the Mustang in Italy. If Ford did do so then that lazy-arsed, laid back “American-ness” has been lost to pasta and sun dried tomatoes. God the Italians know how to cook. Aston Martin isn’t like a supermarket Italian Pizza made in Birmingham, England. No sir, Aston Martin is British, its the only fine dining experience the UK has to offer that has any real flavor. Aston Martin has to remain core to its British values because we British were rulers of the greatest Empire ever seen, in any age. What relevance the last sentence has to this post is not clear perhaps I got lost in the emotion of the moment. As I dry my eyes at the thought of Aston Martin going on a potentially ill fated American adventure, I look over my shoulder and gaze back into the distance at this green and pleasant British land for British people, a pain overcomes me and I realise I just got a crick in my neck.