When it comes to simplicity in the car department, I’m there.
I drive a 13 ½-year-old minivan. I have absolutely no ego tied up in the car I drive. For me, a car is a means for getting from one place to another.
My husband maintains our cars very well—regular oil changes, rotates tires, fixes things right away. There are so many benefits to holding on to a good ol’ car: insurance and taxes and registration fees on my car are a fraction of what other people’s are.
I can take my minivan anywhere and not worry about it being broken into or stolen. (As my children are the first to admit, no one would want it. What my children won’t admit is that the exterior of the minivan is covered with battlescars from their years as new drivers. I can point to a big scratch on the side and remember the day Gary scraped a metal fence. Or the dent in the front bumper conjures up that moment when Tad hit the side of the garage. Ah . . . sweet memories.)
A few years ago, a friend asked me when I was going to get a new car (she drives a Lexus SUV). Well, I told her, trying to mask my annoyance, there’s no need. As my husband pointed out, what would we do for Christmas tree hauling, for visiting grandchildren, for friends who ask to borrow it? Why would I want anything else?
A week ago, my husband and I returned from a trip back east. We left our trusty mini-van in the Park N’ Fly lot for the entire time. When we returned home late at night, the minivan started up without a hitch.
And isn’t that the point?