We have a Pathfinder. 1996. Almost 200,000 kms. It starts. It goes. It carries. In fact, except for the usual suspects (brakes, exhaust, bulbs, belts and tires) it seems to be pretty much all one could ever need in a vehicle (‘cept for the odd rodent).
It ain’t shiny. It ain’t pretty. It’s got more than few wrinkles and bumps to mark it’s life here on earth but, all in all, it wears a coating of dirt as well as any other vehicle. I like it. Sal likes it. Fid knows ‘his’ car in a parking lot. The old Pathfinder seems good for another 100,000 kms. Except…..well……
Landcruiser sounds better…….G-wagen sounds good, too. So does crew cab. I’d love to find a slightly larger, maybe more macho SUV. Black. Ya know? (on Natural gas, of course). I keep filling the old PF to the rafters and then spilling on up to the roof rack. Sometimes we have even filled the old utility trailer past the maximum rating by scary amounts, too. And then pulled it behind the stuffed PF. There have been times when you couldn’t have squeezed a loaf of Wonder bread into the vehicle it was soooooooo loaded up.
So….do I need a new vehicle?
I don’t think so. I really don’t. I only need to get from A to B now and then and to carry a whole lotta crap while doing so. And I am doing that quite well, thank you very much.
Sooooo…….why am I feeling as if I need to buy?
I don’t think it is peer group pressure. If PGP had any effect on me, I’d be slimmer and more polite, at the very least. I’d dress better, for sure. It ain’t status. I can assure you of that. Mostly because I equate more status to an old vehicle in good nick than what a tub full of cash can buy off a showroom floor.
It just MIGHT be the moving cornucopia of ‘sexy’ cars and trucks out there, tho. They do look good compared to Ol’ Poofy, I’ll give you that. But, seriously…….
I had an hour to kill and went to a Chinese foot massage place (always a treat) and got mildly tortured by a nice monolingual Asian woman just a smidge too keen on upgrading me to a full body massage. I resisted her fetching smile with remarkably little difficulty, actually. But I got to talking to the guy massaging the person next to me. He is a recent Chinese (mainland) immigrant. He works 7 days a week starting at 10:00 am and not quitting until 11:00 pm! “Why the hell, William, do you do that? That’s no life!”
“Aaaaahh……I know! Car payments! Gas! Bills. Gotta pay the bills, eh?”
“You buying a house? In this market! You can’t rub enough feet to buy a house in Vancouver, man!”
“No! No house! (recent immigrants often speak with exclamation marks at the end of their sentences for no real reason that I can discern). I just buy ‘spensive new car! Car cost money. Lots of money! I pay for car!”
“Shoot! What kinda car you driving, dude?”
“Lessus! Leck sas? Luk sis?”
“Lex-us, William. Lex-us. You better keep rubbing, William, old boy. And welcome to the wonderful world of consumerism. You’ve got a lot of feet in your future and a long, long way to go.”
I walked out of there with nice feet and no desire for a shiny car. What a deal!