I am not a car person. I don’t particularly enjoy driving and wouldn’t mind living in a place where public transportation was not the inconvenient time sucker that it is in my town. How people endure commutes over an hour to work and home each day is beyond me, as fifteen to twenty minutes sometimes tries my patience.
I’m also not one to desire a certain type of vehicle. I don’t insist on driving a specific brand. Sure, given my druthers, I’d choose a Mini Cooper or a Volvo wagon. But, no one’s given me my druthers, so I’ll stick with what I’ve got.
My husband and son are, at this very moment, at a car dealership, with the purpose of trading in our minivan for a pick-up. Our minivan is old, in need of repairs, and not what we need if we want to continue to pull our pop up trailer around the tri-state area.
Cars are such hassles. Our Buick recently decided to stop running at an intersection. Last night, around 2am, a woman fell asleep at the wheel and ran into our neighbor’s car, which was parked in front of his house. She consequently, by running into his, pushed his car part way into our yard. She wasn’t seriously hurt, thankfully. My son and I were awakened by the flashing police and tow truck lights. My husband and daughter hadn’t a clue the situation happened until we filled them in. Aside from that, a small mess was left behind.
We don’t want a car payment. And we don’t want to keep pouring money into our old model automobiles. I wish we could ride our bikes everywhere. Or walk. Or again, utilize a bus or train system. But a car payment seems eminent, unless something crazy happens soon. And my life as a minivan driving mom might soon come to an end.
So are the problems of middle class Americans, living in middle America, I suppose. I’m grateful, as many face much more difficult situations than I do. And I confess I’m just a bit envious at those who can easily maintain a budget that allows for a new vehicle every few years.