Anyone else hate the name?
The Passing LaneFull disclosure: I have yet to test-drive the 2013 Acura ILX (a.k.a., the sweetest-looking Honda Civic ever made.)
I’m sure the ILX is more than adequate and it offers decent value for the money when it comes to entry-level luxury. And gracious, beleaguered Acura could sure use a hit.
But I’m already a tad pessimistic when it comes to this vehicle based solely on one intangible factor: its dreadfully awkward name.
Hey, I’m fully cognizant that just about every positive moniker has been registered and trademarked. And I know that when it comes to the luxury segment – with the notable exception of some Cadillac and Lincoln models – there is an obsession with giving vehicles horrid alphanumeric nameplates, ranging from A3 to Z4 (and just about every concoction in-between.)
Yet, when I see a car called the ILX, man o h man, do I ever pine for the days when cars were routinely named after animals such as Wildcat or Barracuda or even Bobcat.
Heck, I even pine for the good old days when Honda’s luxury division actually put some effort into coming up with cool albeit fabricated names (i.e., Vigor, Integra.)
But ILX?
Oh, I “get it”: Acura wants us to pronounce ILX simply as a shopping list of letters, I-L-X. And maybe those letters stand for something (I doubt it, though.) But when I see this nameplate, I read it as “Ill Ex,” as in, “Did you hear about my ex? She’s ill. She’s a very ill ex.”
Gracious, a name that conjures up a former romantic partner who is ailing doesn’t get my motor revving. Suffice to say, nobody in their right mind will record a song lauding this particular sedan.
Bottom line: enough with the alphabet soup in the auto game already. Can we just call a moratorium on these nonsensical alpha-numeric names that mean absolutely nothing and are even downright confusing?
Maybe somebody out there is just giddy about owning an Acura named the ILX. But ILX is no Corvette, Charger, or Mustang; in truth, ILX doesn’t even rank up there with Legend.