I am not a car guy. Although I appreciate the finer points of high-end, luxury automobiles, I have always viewed cars from the practical and pragmatic perspective of “often necessary things that transport me from Point A to Point B.” With that in mind, when it comes to cars, I have eschewed luxury in favor of economy, style in favor of sturdiness, and status in favor of serenity.
I am fifty-two years old and have owned a total of four automobiles, all of which I affectionately refer to as “indestructible Jap economy shitboxes” (hat tip to the John Goodman character in the film, The Gambler — see scene below.
My first car — a 1992 Honda Civic hatchback with a manual transmission— was also the only new car I ever purchased. It is also the first and only time I took out a loan for anything.
I am fifty-two years old and have owned a total of four automobiles, all of which I affectionately refer to as “indestructible Jap economy shitboxes” (hat tip to the John Goodman character in the film, The Gambler — see scene below.
My first car — a 1992 Honda Civic hatchback with a manual transmission— was also the only new car I ever purchased. It is also the first and only time I took out a loan for anything.
I bought the car in Canada when I was twenty-one and drove it until I was thirty-two. I put nearly 300,000 kilometers into it before selling it for 500 dollars in Sarasota, Florida. My Civic was extremely reliable and practical partly because I purchased it “barebones,” without air-conditioning or any other frills or extras. (The lack of air-conditioning helps explain the low price I managed to sell it for in Florida, where air-conditioning is “kind of” a necessity.)
My next car was a used 1996 Suzuki Esteem with an automatic transmission, which I purchased for 2000 dollars from a friend in Florida in 2003. The Esteem was of much lower quality and less practical than the Civic because it was a sedan, but it had air-conditioning and took me and my wife from Point A to Point B reliably and consistently.
My next car was a used 1996 Suzuki Esteem with an automatic transmission, which I purchased for 2000 dollars from a friend in Florida in 2003. The Esteem was of much lower quality and less practical than the Civic because it was a sedan, but it had air-conditioning and took me and my wife from Point A to Point B reliably and consistently.
We used the car to move from Florida to New York City in 2005 and kept the car in New York for a couple of years before the transmission froze up. Incompetent mechanics drained the transmission fluid but forgot to fill it back up again, and I ended up driving around for more than four months — four months! — with no transmission oil before the poor car finally threw in the towel. The excellent public transportation in New York City ensured that we did not need a car, so I sold the Esteem as it was instead of repairing it.
I did not purchase another car until we moved to Toronto, Canada in 2011. Once in Toronto, I bought a used 2008 Nissan Versa hatchback with an automatic transmission (I prefer manual transmissions, but my wife likes automatic and well…)
The Versa was another solid Japanese economy car, so much so that it probably transcended the economy category. We drove the car for over two years, and before moving to England in 2014, I sold the Versa to my mother for a family discount price. My mother still drives the car today!
I did not purchase another car until we moved to Toronto, Canada in 2011. Once in Toronto, I bought a used 2008 Nissan Versa hatchback with an automatic transmission (I prefer manual transmissions, but my wife likes automatic and well…)
The Versa was another solid Japanese economy car, so much so that it probably transcended the economy category. We drove the car for over two years, and before moving to England in 2014, I sold the Versa to my mother for a family discount price. My mother still drives the car today!
My fourth and current car — a 2002 Suzuki Wagon R — is a veritable indestructible shitbox that ranks solidly in the “don’t laugh, it’s paid for” category.
Although it is a monstrously cheap, clunky, and ugly little vehicle, the Wagon R is by far the most practical and reliable car I have owned. It was thirteen years old when I bought it for the equivalent of 3000 dollars in 2016, but it had less than 50,000 kilometers on it. The previous owner, an elderly gentleman, purchased the car brand new after he retired and used it to run local errands and do the grocery shopping. So, even though the car was old timewise, it was in virtually brand-new condition otherwise.
When I bought this “tin can on wheels”, I figured I would own it for a couple of years before graduating to something more “serious.” That was nearly eight years ago. The odometer currently sits at 135,000. The car has never required anything beyond routine maintenance. I can’t kill this tin can, even though I’ve used it to transport everything from a cement mixer to lumber.
At this rate, the little tin can on wheels will probably stay with me for another eight years, which will devastate my “status” among the car-owning public but elevate the “status” of my bank account in terms of money saved on car payments, repairs, etc.
Oddly enough, I adopted the advice Goodman’s character espouses in the scene below long before I watched the film from which the scene originates. Nevertheless, the F.U. position the Goodman character outlines in the scene pretty much describes my approach to material obligations and personal finance, minus the offensive tagline. Oh, and I’ve never been up 2.5 million…ever. (Warning: Strong language!)
When I bought this “tin can on wheels”, I figured I would own it for a couple of years before graduating to something more “serious.” That was nearly eight years ago. The odometer currently sits at 135,000. The car has never required anything beyond routine maintenance. I can’t kill this tin can, even though I’ve used it to transport everything from a cement mixer to lumber.
At this rate, the little tin can on wheels will probably stay with me for another eight years, which will devastate my “status” among the car-owning public but elevate the “status” of my bank account in terms of money saved on car payments, repairs, etc.
Oddly enough, I adopted the advice Goodman’s character espouses in the scene below long before I watched the film from which the scene originates. Nevertheless, the F.U. position the Goodman character outlines in the scene pretty much describes my approach to material obligations and personal finance, minus the offensive tagline. Oh, and I’ve never been up 2.5 million…ever. (Warning: Strong language!)
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