Someone parks two cars near you. The first? A sports car. It could be a Porsche 911 C4 Cab, a Ferrari F430, or a Z06 ‘Vette. Something special. Expensive. Exotic. The other car is an oldie. Let’s say a 1976 Toyota Celica or a 1984 Volvo 240 wagon. Which one would interest you?

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I started the bidding at $275. The faces in front of me went instantly from melancholy to downright sullen and FU’ish. Low end dealers, auto recyclers, crushers par excellence, this was an impound lot sale. A final howling call for the dead, the dying, and the DUI’s. In the past few months I had started the bidding at $100. But the tow company’s finances had taken a cliff deep dive (they lost the county contract). With one of his regular wreckers already being used for spare parts. The owner was clearly on the ropes. You know what? The strategy worked . . . and . . .

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How many of you would pay $400 a month for a Ford Ranger? How about $600 and change? Not you? I didn’t think so. But you would be surprised how many actually do. As a remarketing rep for Capital One, it was my job to deal with the failures—over 10,000 per year. Good people. Bad people. Mediocre people. It didn’t really matter in the end because none of them could make the sub-prime car payments. It’s a vicious cycle at the auctions. Retail cars are sold to wholesale buyers. These cars are then sold with cheap credit and inflated prices to an ever clueless public. Here’s today’s question: “What’s the alternative?”

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A few of my friends had their tongues hanging out. The year: 1984. The car: a brand new Toyota Celica Supra. It had the words ‘SUPRA’ in big bubble letters on the rear. Just in case you missed it. Pop-up headlights. Seats that actually had bolsters on them. A sunroof, and the very best AM/FM Cassette money could buy. My brother, that lucky and overachieving bastard, got it brand new as a thank you for the 4.0’s that would eventually land him in the world of radiology. After experiencing my very first “Holy Shit!” moment as a passenger (my folks were lifelong right lane drivers), and watching a five-speed shift for the first time, I was smitten. Later on that evening I watched my first Knight Rider and then all hell broke loose.

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I love investing. Not so much the garbage that comes from Wall Street infomercials or the ‘Get Rich Like My Dad’ crapola. I’m talking the real thing. A group of folks that take their money and smarts, and build something awesome. Computers. Schools. Lights. Movies. Paints and Wastebaskets. We may laugh at the minutiae of it all, but if we take the time to look between the lines of any great product, we can always find the beauty that makes that product worth buying. That’s because in certain businesses, those who are passionate about their work can influence the outcome. In the case of Chrysler and GM we’re the investors. But how can we get out?

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Evening time. Time for conversations, drinks, jokes and . . . spreadsheets? Apparently so. I’ve caught this nasty computerized bug lately. The symptoms are harder to shake than swine flu and almost as appealing. It’s figuring out my ‘cost to own’ for a variety of cars. The goal: get my cost down to 10 cents a mile. Three hours and too much wine later, I wondered. “Can it really happen in this world of $3 gas?” With purchase price, insurance, gas, opportunity cost, maintenance, repairs, and government fees aplenty, not to mention a junker selling price with inflation to boot, I wasn’t quite sure. In fact my head was spinning. The final answer?

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Monday morning at Carmax auctions. I see a 1992 Mazda B2200 truck with only 44,000 original miles. What the . . . ? Yep, checked the Autocheck and the Carfax. It had 44,000 miles. Interior. Immaculate. Not even a stain. Five-speed? A snick-snick work of (old) art that seems ready for action. The selling price? $1900 plus $105 auction fee. Not really that bad. The old Ranger and its Mazda sibling seem to be the unofficial vehicles of North Georgia. If I lived in Deliverance country, I could see even keeping it. Today’s buys were a 1997 Cadillac Deville for $1455 (including auction fee) and a ratty Subaru Loyale that was purely for speculative purposes for $120. The engine turns but doesn’t fire. Based on the history I’m thinking it’s either old gas or a fuel pump.

I remember when I was 16 years old, one of my friend’s dads had a near-new Toyota Celica All-Trac. It was gorgeous. The black paint was svelte and flawless. The leather pristine. It was a true work of art. Except it had one tiny little flaw on the vehicle. The VIN was not ‘authentic’. It had been taken off another vehicle from ‘far far away’. This was in the bad old days where odometer rollbacks (which still happen) and washed titles (ditto) were still common. Today? Well, I’ll put it to you this way. Even a finance company with as many computers as NASA was screwed seven ways from Sunday by a bunch of Nigerians using an old lady’s information. The clunker auditors are going to have to keep their eyes REAL open in this ‘information age’ to catch these snakes . . . and it won’t be easy. Here’s just a small slither of stealth that can happen just on the trade-in side of the equation.

A 2008 Suzuki Forenza. After reading the owner reviews, it pained me to even think about buying the car. I found a 2008 S model on eBay for $6700 (incl. bogus fees). Only 7500 miles? What a deal! But for whom? Since this car was sub-par for a multitude of ‘too cheap for their own good’ owners, I deep-sixed it. That left on eBay a Kia Rio LX, a Chevy Aveo LT, a Ford Focus SE (with about 15k more miles), and the ringer: a 2008 Toyota Yaris. Prices/mileage were $7100/16k, $8000/21k, $8500/33k and, ahem, $10,700 with 12k. All automatics. All with power windows/locks. None with sunroofs or any other high end stuff. Just good solid A to B transportation with a lot of good owner feedback. On second thought, screw it. I don’t believe a tightwad would be happy with real world fuel economy in the mid-20s so I’m nixing the Aveo. Begone! As for the other three . . .

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What demographics will win in the recent “Cash for Clunkers” legislation? Well let’s take a gander. In the cars section, all but the last two primarily appeal to folks that are north of the double nickel. Traditional Caddies, laid back Lincolns. Throw in some nasty old British hardware, a couple of misguided pseudo-imports (LS and Aurora), and the guido enriched pre-’92 F-body and you have the whole fleet. Also those who are into old-school Benzes and Q45s should definitely qualify, along with pre-1990s full-sized Detroit metal. But apparently Consumer Reports forgot about them. Oh well. So enthusiasts should get a couple of nods. For trucks?

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I had to travel 1000 miles to buy my first car. At the time Toyota dealers in the Southeast didn’t have Camrys with optional ABS (1994). Why? Supposedly you didn’t need it. Unless you bought the top of the line model, which cost an extra $3000. Thanks to this pearl of wisdom from Toyota’s Southeast distributorship, I went to New Jersey where my brother and I bought respective Camrys. Should I have bothered? I’ll put it this way. Back in the Clinton era this regional cabal offered a really nice Scotchguard protection deal that had the word ‘Toyo’ in it along with windows etched with your VIN and about $7 worth of hocus pocus that no one really cared to have. The surcharge? $699. They all did it. After my third or fourth visit to the local new car rodeo, I said “screw ’em” and headed to [New] Jersey.

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The oil in the Honda Insight’s engine was overfilled by nearly half the length of the dipstick by the new car dealer. I was 40 miles away from there with a well deserved vacation on the horizon. So, I did what anyone in my neck of the woods would do and fixed the problem myself. Except the problem didn’t get fixed. It got worse. Boy, did it get worse.

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Cory02 writes:

Something interesting happened with my nearest former Chrysler/Dodge/Jeep dealer (Dave Croft Motors in Collinsville, Illinois): they appear to be selling new Chrysler products again. In the days approaching the “drop-dead” date for the culled dealers, I thought it was odd that they not only kept the large “Chrysler/Dodge/Jeep” signs on their building but also kept them lit at night (I would have personally taken them down out of spite). The owner went through the motions of crying to the media, proclaiming that he would stay in business as a used dealer, and then moved all the new cars to the very back of the lot and put them in neat rows to await pickup and delivery to another dealer after June ninth.

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Freedom. It’s a blessing and a bitch. As graduates of the 21st century, the average Jane and Joe are loaded with expectations aplenty. Cell phones, computers, and iPods® are a given these days. Credit cards? Perhaps only for gas and groceries. But that’s on the list also. The expenses of the young are laden with a thousand cuts of consumerism. But none of them compare to the cost of a car. So, what should all the members of the family do? Think. Think. Think.

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