Warren Brown, Contributor

The 2007 Jaguar XKR convertible, like its other high-end Jaguar siblings, is not about power, per se. It's about attitude, elegance, sensuality. It doesn't chase the thrill. It pampers and then surprises.

WASHINGTON:

We dropped the top in defiance of autumn's misty, cool weather. Our reasoning was simple. We were driving the 2007 Jaguar XKR convertible, the apex of the Jaguar XK line. It had more power, luxury, sex appeal and sass than the base XK models we drove in South Africa earlier in the year. It begged to be driven topless. We complied.

And this, my friends, is the trouble with restraint—with noble beliefs and intentions of any sort. They are no match for lust. They easily are set aside for the moment's pleasures and brought back for contrite and penitential reflection when the moment has passed.

Politicians and priests understand this. So do saints and sinners. It is why the churches of my Roman Catholic faith have confessionals, why psychiatrists make so much money, and why there is such an abundance of meaty gossip feeding celebrity magazines and 24-hour news operations.

Lust!

And what better place to find it, to sample its dimensions at speed, than behind the steering wheel of an impressively endowed, 420-horsepower, supercharged V-8 convertible?

Did we consider that this car, a grand work of aluminium construction, consumed one gallon of premium gasolene for every 17 miles driven in the city and every 24 miles driven on the highway—for a combined city/highway mileage of 19 miles per gallon? We thought about it in passing, usually in highway lane changes at about 70 miles per hour.

Did it matter to us that the Energy Department and Environmental Protection Agency say the rear-wheel-drive XKR convertible, much like the rear-wheel-drive Jaguar XJR sedan, consumes the equivalent of 16.3 barrels of crude oil a year? No, we didn't think about that. We looked it up after driving the XKR as long and as hard as possible. It was a sobering statistic. But, alas, sobriety also competes poorly against lust, especially lust accompanied by prestige, envy, pride and the illusion of carefree life.

What can we say? This was a stunningly beautiful convertible. A crowd gathered around every-where we parked. Other motorists changed lanes to drive alongside us and take a peek. Some motorists exhibited the most miserable Jaguar envy—delibe-rately pulling up behind the XKR, practically tailgating, and then manoeuvring to cut us off.

We remained cool. Why not? The XKR has lots of gusto. Its engine can growl with the passion of a hungry cat. But the XKR, like its other high-end Jaguar siblings, is not about power, per se. It's about attitude, elegance, sensuality. It doesn't chase the thrill. It pampers and plays a bit. It seduces and then surprises.

The XKR is not about practicality. Its rear seats are marginally accommodating for people over five feet tall. Its trunk has 10 cubic feet of cargo space, enough for a set of golf clubs, or maybe for two soft-pack overnight bags.

We're not talking a family mobile here. We're talking escape pod—something to aid the flight from daily concerns, from the mundane plodding of the world. In that context, the XKR is a true "dream machine.''

Friends and family asked for rides in the XKR just to get away. Ria Manglapus, who assists me in test drives, tells this story: "I have a girlfriend who has three children. She's always busy, running and doing things for her family. She seldom takes time for herself. But we went for a ride in the XKR. You should have seen the smile on her face, like she had gone to another world.''

And there was this: My wife, Mary Anne, drove the car to a weekday Mass. Weekday services usually last 30 minutes. Mary Anne was gone for 90. There must've been a long sermon. I didn't ask.

LA TIMES-WASHINGTON POST

In that context, the XKR is a true "dream machine.''