I finally bought a new car. It nearly killed me. I know that for many people purchasing a new car is a thrill, but to me, it’s a journey to the land of confusion. Too many models….too many choices. And to be honest, if you haven’t guessed it by now, I’m not a car person. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’m not much for hitchhiking or taking mass transit. You really can’t do either living in Phoenix. But today’s cars all seem to look alike. I guess I’m what you might call car blind.
I test drove a lot of vehicles over a number of months (please don’t gasp—I already admitted I don’t know what I’m doing). It was an odd experience. Mostly because the person sitting next to me (the salesman/woman) was a total stranger. Someone whose very livelihood depended on my decision. And being a sensitive guy, I had a gnawing feeling that if I didn’t buy the car, their job might be on the line. So, I made nervous small talk and hoped against hope that I would like the car. But I mostly didn’t.
I guess I’m really not much for the 2017 models. I like old things. Turner Classic Movies, pies made from scratch, antiques, and yes … car museums with Studebakers and Packards. For some reason, I have a yen to own a big, shiny, gas guzzler from the 30s and 40s. I get that they weren’t good for the environment, lacked safety features, and probably drove like tanks. But anything less seems to be—well—less. That’s how you see the world when you’re car blind.
After 30 years of owning Japanese cars, I’ve gone back to an American automaker. A brand that a friend recently described as stodgy. Well, I think my new car is really very cool. Great styling…superb ride…wonderful air conditioning. And if I had just listened to Jeff in the beginning, well, all that car shopping could have been avoided. It was the first car that he recommended.
The 2017 Buick Encore. And even though the Encore is new, I can still enjoy the nostalgia of yesteryear. I think I’ve earned it. Check out my salute to 1965 by clicking here: http://bit.ly/2uyepdp