After a week of tooling around town and a weekend zip up to Phoenix and back, well... I may be smitten with the Matrix.
It helps to not think of it as a car so much as a silver flash that can hit highway speeds before the bottom of the on-ramp, rather than the previous 45 mph and a prayer, with these interesting features called bucket seats that do not have large chunks of foam rubber falling out of the sides and hug portions of my spine that before did not understand the concept of lumbar support, a responsive clutch that does not threaten to overtax my already compromised meniscus, and, uh, a jack where I can plug in the iPod. And anti-skid plastic-backed rear seats that fold flat for decent hauling capactity. And one of those cute little antennas that look like a pintail.
Sorry, truck. I still love you. But I think we need to just be friends now.