Simple Transportation...Is Not Enough

I did it. I test drove a Honda CRV yesterday morning. It was a 2005 version with 41,000+ miles on it. I tried Carmax, but they were fresh out of Honda CRVs, so I visited the Honda dealer. Nice little vehicle, but after having driven my Toyota Avalon for ten years, the CRV seemed very cramped inside, especially the area for the driver's feet. So, that particular CRV was not for me because of the way in made my feet feel claustrophic...not to mention the fact that the Honda dealership wanted $22,000 for it. No thanks, I said. The young salesman then tried to convince me that the 2007 version with leather seats and all the bells and whistles I could ever want for $32,000+ was what I needed and would probably be better to my feet. No. But I poked my head into a Honda Element and liked what I saw, but probably not enough to buy one. Certainly not from the dealer. And I liked the Pilot, but I'm really wanting something that is roomy and gets good mileage and is stone-cold reliable. I may be dreaming.

OK, so I'm back to deciding whether I should spend $1,100 on my 10-year-old Avalon to get rid of the increasingly annoying, bone-jarring shudder caused by the broken motor mount and to repair the bad valves that are producing the rough idle and decreasing gas mileage. The other options are to keep the car as is, which is becoming increasingly less likely (I tend to scream loudly at the car's shuddering tremors every time I come to a stop at stoplights and stop signs, which is doing my psyche no good and is downright terrifying to the people who pull up next to me), or to replace the beast with another car.

I've tried to adopt my father's attitude about cars: "It's just transportation, son." My dad regularly made that comment when one of my brothers, the one five years older than I, tried to convince him that my dad's next car should have a spoiler on the trunk or should have special paint or should have a souped-up engine. Dad looked at cars a basic transportation. He definitely wanted some creature comforts, like air conditioning in the Texas heat, but the bells and whistles did not seem to matter to him. I've tried to embrace that. On occasion, I must admit I have failed miserably.

OK. I admit it. I'm not like my dad with respect to transportation. In fact, I may be the antithesis of my dad in some respects, when it comes to cars. Let me explain.

I like leather upholstery in a car, preferably self-cleaning seats that automatically self-treat the leather at regular intervals. I like high-end stereo systems and would like them even more if they came with a mechanism to automatically retrieve and store music that I might possibly enjoy from all new music from all parts of the earth. I believe I would love dual-climate controls because they would make my wife happier. In fact, I'd like a climate control system that would enable me to select, on a sliding scale, everything from howling, sub-zero temperature blizzard on one end of the spectrum to baking, steel-melting heat at the other...and I want to be able to precisely put these microclimates anywhere I wish in the car, at the same time.

Sitting higher than people arouned me appeals to me. I also like the idea of having an eardrum-breaking-capable horn that can be aimed at undesirable drivers with whom I come in to proximity. The availability of raw power that enables me to roar away from a stop at breakneck speed has its appeal. A top speed of 275 would be reasonable.

Ideally, my car will be absolutely dead quite inside, will have phenomenal road-feel in the steering, and will have a moon roof, sun roof, 1000 cup holders, heated and cooled seats, power windows, power door locks, power trunk lock, automatic self-parking and a self-cleaning exterior, an an auto-shampooing carpet inside. I want to be able to transport 4x8 sheets of plywood, 14-foot pieces of lumber, and 7 passengers comfortably, but I require a vehicle small enough that I can easily park it in a very small garage and that is highly maneuverable in heavy traffic. Something the size of a Toyota Echo on the outside and a Hummer limousine on the inside would just about fit the bill.

My expectation is that my vehicle will get at least 170 miles per gallon of gas...when it requires gas, which should be seldom. My vehicle should be able to use greenhouse gases for power, turning them into...nothing. The ideal car, for me, will be made entirely of recycled materials and half of the less-than-twenty-thousand-dollar pricetag will be used to feed, clothe, shelter, and teach the poor and downtrodden of the world. Naturally, I will expect the price of gas to quadruple, which I support, but demand will plummet, which I also support.

OK, now that I have decided what kind of car I want, I guess it's just a matter of going out and negotiating the best price. If I can't find a price I can live with, in a car that possesses all my non-negotiable characteristics, I may be forced to repair the Avalon.