Let's go play.

It's spring and our pinstriped, pinhead bosses are probably in Hawaii or Paris or Cancun, attending weeklong seminars on cost-cutting. Before they get back and start slashing our benefits again, maybe we could find a long, open road somewhere and leave the Dallas North Crawlway, Central Wreckway and all our other clogged, burning arteries far behind.

I just happen to have a couple of escape vehicles in the garage: the '08 Mazda RX-8 40th Anniversary Edition and an '08 Nissan 350Z Nismo, cars that beg to be driven hard and fast with the windows down and James "Slim" Hand turned way, way up on 300-watt stereos.

For the most part, Japanese cars are refrigerators on wheels – invisible four-door transportation devices that are efficient and reliable, cost about 11 cents a year to maintain and are as dull as a public television fundraiser.

If they were people, you might marry them in a desperate moment.

The RX-8 and 350Z have long been exceptions – though both are getting heavier and softer with age, a concern for many of us middle-age militants. Still, the vaunted Z and storied RX remain reasonably lithe and fairly affordable.

As you probably know, these are interesting times for sports cars – indulgent vehicles that people buy when times are good and gas prices low. These are not those times – just ask some of the grinning millionaire suits at Big Oil.

In the first quarter of this year, sales of the RX-8 plummeted 47.3 percent and the 350Z's nose-dived 37.7 percent.

Before I had even seen the 350Z, I figured it would be the hot one of the two, a growling street fighter in tacky, too-tight clothes.

Mine was cloaked in bright red paint and strutted on 19-inch dark-centered forged wheels, a good start. But to my eyes, the Z with the full Nismo package – about $2,000 more than a regular well-equipped Z – looked as if it had driven through a debris cloud from a major Fast and Furious crash.

Gray aerodynamic body pieces hung from the bottom of the Z's taut body, some sort of dark lower panel clung to the back and a terrible two-level spoiler squatted on the rear. (Isn't one spoiler on a street car bad enough?)

In fact, when I glanced at the rear-view mirror, all I could see was what appeared to be the tail assembly from a small airplane.

Fortunately, underneath all of the silly exterior stuff on this $39,615 car – all of which is functional, Nissan says – was a tuned exhaust, Nismo-tweaked suspension, Brembo brakes and Nissan's fine 3.5-liter, 306-horsepower V-6. A good six-speed manual put the power to the pavement.

Inside, the supportive seats were stitched in black cloth, which theoretically should keep the driver planted better in hard corners. But I never got accustomed to the sight of cloth seats in a $40,000 car – and the interior as a whole seemed pretty average.

It was surprisingly cramped, even by midget standards. A stylish rear strut-tower consumed most of the hatchback, leaving just enough space for groceries for one. (Which sounds kind of pathetic, doesn't it?)

Once in motion, the hysterical exterior and basic interior didn't matter much. This is still a car that will blast to 60 mph in 5.2 seconds – though the under-1,000-mile engine in the car I had didn't really feel that fast. With the Nismo exhaust system and 4-inch-diameter tips that are so prominent they can be seen in satellite photos, the car sounded like a 1960s Jag – which is to say very good indeed. And it certainly won't be mistaken for an econobox at the gas pump, especially at 18 miles per gallon city, 25 highway.

This is a car happiest when it is hanging onto curves and bends. Although the ride is firm, the Z corners flatly without much drama, thanks to independent front and rear suspensions.

Even better for a Japanese car, the tight, positive steering was so quick and alive that it felt almost German.

So how could I possibly prefer an underpowered, oddly shaped car like the Mazda RX-8 to the potent, extroverted Z?

Mainly it came down to handling, steering and overall chassis dynamics. The rotary-powered RX-8 – to my great surprise – was one of the most balanced cars I've driven.

But in all honesty, it took time to appreciate it.

First, this is a strange-looking sports car – even in beautiful metallic gray paint with black seats that had oxblood-colored inserts.

The car is too long, lacks proportion and has truly weird front fenders that stick up higher than its hood. The roofline is awkward, and the RX-8 actually has a small front-opening "suicide" door behind the left front door to provide access to a munchkin-size back seat.

Moreover, the tiny 1.3-liter rotary produces a mere 212 horsepower at 7,500 rpm – while mustering only 159 pound-feet of torque and delivering astoundingly mediocre gas mileage of 16 mpg city and 22 highway. At first glance, this is your sister's buck-toothed friend, the one looking for a prom date.

Zero to 60 in this 3,000-pound car takes about six seconds – or slightly faster than some Toyota Tundra pickups. But it doesn't really matter.

This Mazda is absolutely magical in corners. Blast into a curve, and the car is so composed you can't tell which end is the dominant, heavy one. The front and rear move in harmony, assisted by grip that seems to come more from good engineering than giant tires. (My RX-8 was shod with 18-inch, 10-spoke wheels and 225/45 tires).

Even ham-handed hayseeds like me could drive this car fast – and safely – on Dallas' many mountain roads. The refined handling is aided by a slick-shifting six-speed, strong brakes and steering that is even better than the Z's at telegraphing what the front wheels are doing.

And at $32,435, the Anniversary Edition RX-8 struck me as a lot of car for the money.

Do the unthinkable in plastic, pretentious Dallas: Ignore this car's clumsy looks and love it for its personality, character and two-lane prowess. Your girlfriend/wife/whatever will think you're maturing.