2008 Chrysler Town & Country Verdict

"Ah, I still don't hear anything, sir," offered the polite technician from Orange Coast Jeep/Chrysler in Costa Mesa. We were heading back down the 405 freeway again, me at the wheel, trying to reproduce a frightful aerodynamic howl that had recently cropped up along a breezy desert stretch during a cross-country vacation. But, of course, no matter what I did (sorry about that big-rig), the banshee wail was being coy today -- and was that technician giving me doubtful side glances, or was I just imaging things?

Oh, well, perhaps it was better to not add any more to our Chrysler Town & Country minivan's swelling list of heavily documented miseries. On its third visit to the dealer (at a still-new-smelling 19,404 miles), we had staggered out with a bill for $879.13 (including tax) to replace the front brakes and flush the brake fluid ($615), service the transmission ($153), swap in new filters, change the oil, and various other whatnots ($72). And that's what we paid for; the warranty took the hit for a replaced, leaking radiator (a leaking radiator?).

Okay, so this was an atypical spike in its service cost history, as the bill for its first dealer visit was scott free, and the second was a digestible $190.07. But even here, in retrospect, dark clouds were forming: Besides a clogged A/C filter and the usual service necessities, a brake inspection was deemed necessary -- as was a new radiator cap. In addition, the software for the MyGigRadio system was updated under warranty. Later, during the T&C's fourth and final scheduled service with us, the long-suffering warranty also ponied up for a power-steering hose and yet another radiator cap, though the radiator count remained at two. And just prior to return, the always-dicey, electrically folding third-row seat finally jammed up completely, though frankly, its correct operation was a bit of an on-going mystery. A tidbit from the notebook: "Had an episode where a piece of luggage accidentally hit the 'close' button on the side pillar and it tried to crush a passenger belted into the seat." Ideal for James Bond, perhaps -- "Goldfinger, I have the perfect place for you to ride" -- but a rude way to treat the Purple Stars girls soccer team.

So, as they say, other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you enjoy the play? Believe it or not, we actually liked it nevertheless.

If you scrape away the layers of creature-comfort content Chrysler has festooned it with, the Town & Country's foundation is genuinely likable. There's power aplenty from the 4-liter, 251-horse V-6, it steers without complaint, and the ride is cushy. And, of course, the staggering utility of such a rolling storage shed/seven-seat people-hauler/go-anywhere-vacation mothership is unapproachable by even the most clever of new-gen crossovers. Say what you will, but I'm proudly coo-coo for minivans. Including this one.