Miata is always the answer because it’s the automotive equivalent of ordering a perfectly made espresso: small, simple, honest, and somehow better than the giant complicated thing next to it that costs three times as much.
People will ask, “What car should I buy?” and then give you a list of needs:
They want something fun.
Miata.
They want something reliable.
Miata.
They want something cheap to run.
Miata.
They want to learn manual.
Miata.
They want to autocross.
Miata.
They want a weekend car.
Miata.
They want something that makes a grocery run feel like a special stage.
Miata.
And then someone inevitably says, “But it only has two seats,” as if most people are regularly transporting a jazz quartet. Or, “It doesn’t have much power,” as if joy is measured exclusively in horsepower instead of how hard you can drive a car without immediately becoming a courtroom anecdote.
The Miata understands the assignment. It doesn’t try to be a supercar. It doesn’t pretend to be practical in ways it isn’t. It just says: here is a steering wheel, a gearbox, rear-wheel drive, not much weight, and the sky. Go have fun.
Other cars have features. The Miata has a thesis.
Miata is always the answer.
Unless you need to move a couch.
And even then, rent a truck and keep the Miata.