The Big Tuna

Turns out cash for clunkers came at a great time for the L Family. Have clunker, will travel! Sort of.

Our old Jeep, a clunker in the best sense of the word had served us well, dump runs in Lincoln, putting the boat in and out, Home Despot and Costco, had been taking on water. Yup. One of those windshield replacement jobs, you know the kind they do in your driveway, didn't quite take. The Jeep now had inches of standing water in it and no bilge pump. Now that we moved to Concord we don't have to haul our garbage so, it was time for ole Jeepy to leave the fold.

No one likes to buy cars more than me and John and we spent a few evenings going through the website they set up as part of the program looking for a car that would qualify, the whole gambit relied on trading up for mileage. But what did we need?

Turns out at the same time we were beginning to feel the pinch in the Lexus. A, darn him, had grown 8" in the last two years and wasn't loving the 6hrs a weekend heading to Maine in the back seat any more. But the thing that really sealed the deal was this. No one, certainly not me and A, thinks for one minute that we come before Ranger in terms of John's affections. When Skyler grew to be the big boy he is, Ranger stopped loving his ride to Maine in the back of the SUV. I mean really. He belongs in the front seat anyway.

Picture it--

A large cat carrier full of loud cats.
A large brown dog with no sense of personal space (Skyler).
A yellow dog with a sense of entitlement.

Suddenly Ranger would not lay down in the back. It became a comedy act every time we tried to load the beasts into the car. Cats first. Then Ranger. Then Skyler, and he has to be lifted because well, he doesn't do jumping. As soon as Skyler got in Ranger would jump the seat and take the back seat leaving no room for A. Pull him out put him in the back and the whole thing repeats. It got so that A had to get in first and run a clever defense that he got from Belichick. In the end nothing worked so we started having to put a back seat down so Ranger & Co. could fit comfortably. But now where was a new baby going to go? Truth is, with the place in Maine we like A to bring friends up, the place is dedicated to kids and fun. With two kids, we needed a third row seat for friends anyway. No way was this going to work.

Now comes the word that strikes fear in car lovers everywhere.

Minivan.

Man, were we going there?

Well, you can't argue with the physics. They provide lots of room, they move a lot of people. Mileage not too bad. But style? J drove a 1967 MG for years, I got the sizzling hot, red Alfa Romeo. Then the old classic Saab we loved. Even the Jeep is a modern day classic. A minivan?

Well, turns out there are men everywhere that consider minivans the ultimate ball and chain to their masculinity. The one that really takes them down and signals that they no longer hunt & gather, they ferry. Ferry kids and wives to shopping and soccer and shopping and baseball and playdates. So the "Crossover" was invented! Yay! Crossovers provide most of the functionality of a minivan but look a little more like their off-road (as if!) cousins the SUV. Ok, a Crossover then, that will do the trick.

So what Crossover?

Well, we both have a fondness for the clean, square, flat, boxy look of old Jeeps, and the old Woody Wagon makes me swoon. So utilitarian, so straight forward.

Well, it might end up being the new Pacer, but Ford has reinterpreted the old Woody Wagon, with a touch of the old Country Squire thrown in and created the, ahem, one of a kind, Flex.

Square, check.
Flat, clean lines, check.
Roomy, check, check.
Tons of leg room and STILL enough space for our animal kingdom, check.
Third row seat not sized for Smurfs, yup.
Mileage is as good as the Lexus, is AWD and can tow the boat. Done and done!
Groves along the sides to simulate wood.
A nice looking rear.
Comes with a cool white roof making it look like a "Mini-Cooper on steroids" (thanks for the line A!), except this one did not come with, so I want to get it done after market.
I call it the big tuna.

There are a few things Ds like to do but few as much as swinging a deal for a car. One of the things my Dad excelled at was grinding car dealers down to a nub. Once he took one of his buddies, Tony, and they got the price down so low that we started calling them car thieves. As a result, we were taught from a young age that you do not pay more than a token amount over invoice and if you pay for the mats, admin fees, doc fees, you better not come home as the locks will be changed. My brother Joe is very good at this. I am pretty sure that there are pictures of him posted in backrooms of dealerships across New England. It got to be a source of lively rivalry in our home-- who got the better deals. I am going to tell you who. Me. I get the best deals. J eats my dust. J2, we don't send him in alone; and DH, please, we have to leave him home after the unfortunate luxury package incident at the Jeep dealership. Something uttered only sotto voce in our home is the time he told me I hadn't "paid the guy enough, didn't I have a heart?" He's Canadian. We love him, but he doesn't buy the cars.

The Ford was had for a sweetheart deal, cash for clunkers, below invoice, mats were free and NO FEES. My dad would be proud and Joe has to play catch-up.

So now we have room for two kids, two dogs, two cats, gear and my huge ego!

L

P.S. Wanna buy a Lexus? Dog hair FOC.