I’m sick and tired of all the GM crap. Four brands will die. Boo friggin’ hoo. Nobody seems to mention that virtually all the cars are either cannibalistic shitboxes or uncompetitive black holes. I won’t miss them. In fact, I wish GM would take a whole lot of other brands with them to the pit of liquidation. For starters . . .
My wife and I are among the few remaining newspaper readers. She peruses the ‘Living’ section, scouring every square inch for coupons. I just look for deals on motor oil. Sometimes my eyes will wander around to cheap tires or the latest headlight cleaning shtick. I despise cheap tires and God knows cleaning Chrysler headlights is far from my list of to-do’s these days. But finding a great deal? That’s what I live for. At least when it comes to eliminating any future purchases. For those of you seeking the frugal nirvana I have two words for ya. Forget retail.
I was sitting around with the COO of one of Atlanta’s largest dealer networks. They now have nine different dealerships. Most of which have historically catered to the upscale and affluent. That is until now. For the first four months of this year, 60 percent of their retail sales profits came from vehicles that sold for $4500 or less. New car. Used car. CPO. Everything. That completely floored me. Then he asked the very same question I’ve heard at least fifty times this year, “How many new cars would it take for us to make as much as we get from these sleds?”
Every day I see a wall. On the outside are tens of millions of consumers who lack the commitment, integrity and responsibility to keep their word. Debt, crime, and fraud are their elixirs and it’s literally destroying this country. It fills the lots and keeps the auctions busy for hours. Then I see the other side of that wall. Hundreds of millions trying to get ahead and do the right thing in their lives. They are my buyers, the lane clerks, the ringmen, the consigners, and all the people outside the auction who choose a better path. Everyone thinks that the auctions are a cut-throat place where only the knowledgeable and careful survive . . . and they’re right.
I always wanted to control the Big Three. Not the once-mighty Detroit automakers but the three biggest personal expenses: house, car, and food. Thankfully, I got lucky with the house. Cars are my living. And food? My wife is an awe inspiring Zen master; I’m still working on spaghetti. But over the course of time our priorities have changed. Health care crept up. Then education. Now it’s saving for the volatile road of the near future. The world has changed, more folks are embracing frugality, and the world of cars reflects this seismic shock.
10 years, 6 months, and 1 lifetime ago, I bought my first car at auction. It was a base 1986 Honda Civic hatchback. One owner. 166k miles and power nothing. Not even close. It did have A/C and a radio (thank God!). But it was little more than basic A to B, which was fine because I was in school at the time. I bought it for $525 at a public auction, which came to $630 including taxes and auction fees. It was a beautiful buy at a point in my life when I literally needed to save every nickel in my pocket. So what did I end up doing?
The taxpayers will be paying for the GM and Chrysler bankruptcies. The living. The dead. The unborn. Hell, even my dog. All of us here who give our money to a Congress and President that can’t say no get the honors. Shouldn’t we get something for it? I’m not talking about a bouncy little check in the mail from Uncle Sam. We already have enough of those. How about a car? Seriously. This is a bankruptcy the public will be paying for after all. We’re going to be paying in interminable interest payments and political pontifications if nothing else. Since that’s the case, why not offer all these wonderful unloved surplus vehicles to the public?
One hundred billion dollars. Small change? Not even for Bill Gates. For $100 billion you could give 400,000 students an Ivy League education. If we’re talking about a quality state education, we’re looking at closer to two million graduates. That’s absolutely massive. Amazing . . . and think of our long-term GDP growth? Now consider our current spending on Detroit Inc.
His cell phone line was dead. A disconnected phone is always the first sign that one my automotive “investments” has gone south. Number two: timing. His payment was due that afternoon. By 2:00 PM I was at the house. My car wasn’t there. Common scents told me his associate, DJ Jazzy Dumbfuck, was inside getting high. Angry rap songs blasted from inside. Knocked on the door . . . doorbell . . . knock . . . doorbell . . .
I have a 1983 full-sized A-Team van. OK, it’s a Dodge model, not the black GMC of TV fame. But still. If you’re gonna own a repo, it’s awesome when you’re in the mood. Playing card table. Custom fridge. Plenty of classic interior fur. 1980s glazed silver with the custom striping. Happily (and sadly) I haven’t used it yet. So it stays put. Vans like this are public enemy #1 these days, as they suck gas like twenty-seven 1973 vans. In theory. (Remember: it’s parked.) Oh, and my ’83 Dodge stops me from buying a new, cleaner vehicle from new GM or new Chrysler. And so the government will offer me something like $4500 for my ancient, arthritic van. Apparently that kind of cash for this kind of clunker is a fine idea if you’re a politician using other people’s money (the living and the unborn) to curtail American oil imports and save the planet. As a guy on the sharp end, I’m not feeling it. Not that anyone asked me, but here’s what I would do instead. For a LOT less.
We now have two hybrids on our lot. It won’t last and, trust me, I know that. But I’ve always tried to buy low and sell high when it comes to cars, and non-Prius hybrids are actually reasonable these days. The car in question was a 2001 Honda Insight that was offered by a domestic dealership that had little experience with the product. The check engine light was on (recall related), the A/C was blaring ($35 of tint solved it), and the retail price was a bit prodigious ($6988 with 145k miles). They had a sealed bid sale and I got it for $4001.
Most folks don’t know a Pontiac Torrent from a Joe Torre. Those of you immersed in the labyrinth of automobilia know that the former is a glorified shitbox. But everybody else? Not so much. By the same token, there are some excellent cars that don’t appear on the new car buyer’s radar. Terrific vehicles that get lost in the shuffle of pointless new names and missing marketing campaigns. As Buickman will tell you (and tell you and tell you), there are an awful lot of excellent cars that don’t get the attention they deserve and therefore don’t sell. And when they do sell, they depreciate alarmingly. Even when the chips are down, or especially when the chips are down, used car buyers are far more conservative than their new car counterparts. Unfamiliarity breeds contempt.
I drove a Toyota Camry for 12 years and 239k miles. My two brothers also drove Camrys. My mother drove a Camry. Even my father drove a Lexus that was just a gussied-up Camry. All these Camrys were bought because there was a time when Toyota offered a car that truly few others could match. Quality, longevity, durability. They seemed to always be two clicks above the competition in virtually all respects. But now, it’s a very different story.
There are three things you really can’t avoid if you’re an American: death, debt (government inherited) and sales. Now that four GM brands have officially Oldsmobiled themselves, you’re going to hear a lot of retail sales cheerleading in the MSM. “Now’s the best time!”, “Vultures are gonna feast on these deals!”, and my own personal favorite “Get ’em while they last!” But unfortunately that last cliché is a really big part of GM’s problem.
The 1992 Volvo 740 had more broken plastic pieces than Joan Rivers (if she hit a brick wall in an Aveo). Grandma had let three generations of family use and abuse it. Bless their hearts. They all made an indelible imprint on it. Split rear seats of leather and cloth. Driver’s side window tucked away in the glovebox. Did I mention the jungle gym activities of the young’uns making the rear seats almost useless? Well Grandma was still awesome with the maintenance. Regular oil changes, a light foot, services in all the right places and, wow . . . original Volvo tape deck. This wagon may have looked like old Eurotrash, but it was still young at heart thanks to Grandma—and the rust-free climate of Atlanta. After the jump, the 2000 Dodge Caravan.
Recent Comments