Zen and the Art of Motor Purchase

My apologies in advance for becoming something resembling Jeremy Clarkson. Most of my recent posts appear to be about car trouble, and I sincerely hope that this is the last in a significant line. After a further breakdown rendering my vehicle uneconomical to repair I asked my father for advice about what I should do in the hope that a loan would be forthcoming. It was, and as my brother and I discussed this evening, we are blessed with very generous parents, but that does not mean that there isn’t a price to pay, albeit frequent deep breathing and regular tongue biting rather than interest.

I had been feeling a tad guilty about not involving my dad in any decision making because for him it seems nothing is simple, but he knows much more than me about cars, so what could go wrong? I had reached the point of not asking whether he preferred to coffee or tea lest he make a decision in the house of Goddard, but decided to relent.  If I had gone it alone I would have wandered into a dealership, told them how much I had to spend and asked them to show me a black, navy blue or grey one. I would have then picked the prettiest car, pulled out the plastic and the job would have been a good’n. It’s my general approach to shoe buying, and I have very few regrets on that score.

I’m not sure if it’s a generational thing or a man thing or a combination of both but going car shopping with my dad made thoughts of having my wisdom pulled out with pliers but without anaesthetic seem appealing. Sticking pins in my eyes would have been preferable, but I persevered firstly because I knew that his approach was sensible whist mine was expedient and shallow, and he had a very firm grasp indeed on the purse-strings and wasn’t afraid to remind me of this. Frequently.

We went on a recci to the local dealerships. I had hoped in vein that this would lead to a purchase which in retrospect was naive in the extreme. After establishing what a two to three year old five door car costs in the land of trade sales (something that could have been established on the interweb) we re-grouped to  consider our position. The interweb search followed. Telephone calls to “people that know about motors” followed that. In the meantime, having been dropped at a bus stop after the unproductive foray in dealership world I embarrassed Twin One who accompanied me by giving the bus driver our address and asking him to stop at the cashpoint on the way home.

In any event I am pleased to report progress. Today I identified a car that is economical, has low mileage and within budget sufficiently to satisfy my lender. It’s black and pretty enough to satisfy me and the Twinset. My brother observed that on learning that dad was helping me with a car purchase that he had anticipated a discussion about makes and models over Christmas lunch. That has to be a result...