To Minivan or not to Minivan?

I'm going to tell you a dirty little secret. I'm willing to risk the embarrassment. My hope that you might read my confession and cry out "Yes! Me too!", that together we might find solidarity and consolation as we reveal our True Selves.

My secret, in case you haven't guessed, is that I yearn for a minivan.

I long for the convenience and luxury of the Chrysler Town and Country's all-wheel drive and 3.5-liter, V6 engine generating 230 horsepower. I covet the Honda Odyssey's rear-bench seat that tucks neatly into a compartment in the floor, conjuring instant cargo space like a wizard. I want room for seven passengers, three-zone automatic temperature control systems, a cup holder for everyone! To me, the minivan is a mobile comfort unit, capable of anticipating and satiating my every need and desire.

Except, of course, my desire to feel young. Spunky, sexy, spirited. Single.

Since its debut in 1983, I've always thought of the minivan as an emblem of M-words: Ma'am. Mommy. Matronly. Buying a minivan was a shameless admission that you'd reached the Middle of your life. It was a pass that got you into the pool on a weekday, the YMCA recreation fields after dinner, possibly a Lyle Lovett concert on the weekend--but it sure as hell didn't get you in to see the Dave Matthews Band.

Carmakers are savvy, though. They understood my inner turmoil. And so they've started trotting out minivans masquerading as cool cars. Case in point: Chrysler's PT Cruiser. With a design that is simultaneously futuristic and retro (anyone remember those ZZ Top videos?), the PT Cruiser is an affordable temptation at only $15,450 (base price). But look a little closer at that hipster-mobile and you'll find platform shoes with sneaker soles. Inside, the Cruiser has a flat floor. Lift up the back hatch and there's cargo space, just like a you-know-what.

For years now, automakers have been offering another vehicle that provides safe transition from life in the fast lane to life in a minivan. It's called the SUV. They must be fashionable, because everybody and her sister drives one, right? But if you're hearing the Call of the Minivan, the SUV is little more than a lie you tell yourself, and the automakers know it. New models are stealing openly from minivans. Take the Pontiac Aztek--same platform as the Montana minivan: flat floor, removable seats. Who's kidding who?

Still, most minivan manufacturers don't feel the need for major cosmetic surgery (despite the face that all minivans still look much as they always have--an engine plopped in front of a rectangular box). Why fix it if it ain't broke? Last year, minivan sales peaked at 9% of total vehicles sold, and sales are expected to continue surging.

However, minivan manufactures are making some interior changes these days, thanks largely to the changing needs and tastes of the Baby Boomers (a.k.a. The King of Demographic Groups). As the Baby Boomers' children grow up, Baby Boomers have come to want more than just room to cart their kids. They want bells. They want whistles.

Manufacturers like Oldsmobile and Chevrolet have responded by outfitting minivans with the trappings of luxury cars and motor-homes. Consider the onslaught of roadster entertainment systems. The Chevrolet Venture (Warner Bros. Edition) includes a stereo and TV console with tri-mode audio, which allows three people to listen to three different things on headphones from a CD player and a DVD with remote control. (Of course, video games are an option, too.) DaimlerChrysler offers wireless headphones for its entertainment system, and Nissan can set you up with a nifty little liquid crystal screen and DVD on your center console.

I suppose it's gross and absurd that anyone would need to take the TV with them to the grocery store. Now that I'm getting older, though, I can sort of see the appeal of an on-board, high- tech entertainment system (to be used only on long trips, of course). Maybe if they come up with one for the PT Cruiser, I'd feel comfortable hauling everyone to a ZZ Top concert one day.