Just staving off tears and trying to beat back that hole of emptiness that I feel. There's a brand new white Toyota Tacoma sitting in the garage and I don't even want to look at it. I just took the Z4 down to the dealership and dropped it off as I traded it in a couple of days ago. Very sad.
As I backed the Bimmer out of the garage, I thought, "Already saved almost $2000! The registration came due yesterday, plus it needs new tires which the dealer quoted me $1800 for and it needs a detail which is probably a couple of hundred. Then there's the fact that it's so hard to get in and out of, especially with my back brace on. And the fact that it rides so hard--or tight to the road…."
But…..it sprang to life with that throaty growl when I turned the key. The Xenon headlights laser blast the darkness as I prowl out of Arthurs Court. On 800 north, I dart in and out of traffic--easily springing ahead of everything at the lights. Then on to the freeway, the engine winding up to a whining scream as I shift through the gears and jump well beyond the speed of light and other traffic by the time I reach the top of the onramp. It's beautiful. A simple nudge of the pedal and I'm rocketing past everything--the music rising in volume as the sound outside increases. "What am I doing?" I ask myself, "Trading it off on a practical piece of transportation." As I signal off the freeway…
There have been a few times, when driving the car has been pure joy. It's usually on a warm summer day, top down, sun shining and all the world is right. It happened one morning last summer. As I turned off 800 north onto the freeway onramp, there were no cars ahead of me and I started to accelerate. The car came alive as the wind noise amplified and the radio volume automatically increased to match. As I hit third gear, the pulsating bass and howling harmonica of Led Zeppelin's "When the Levy Breaks" came on, piercing the protective air pocket of the cockpit and rocketing me right back to my sophomore year in high school…my favorite song. I felt chills up my back and a swelling of emotion that actually drew tears. Throttling up, shifting - more speed, more noise, louder Zeppelin…transcendence!!!!
The signal blink, blink, blink. "Practical transportation-- reliable, dependable, safe, sporty, utility, roomy, everything I really need--nothing I really want." Those thoughts going through my head as I start to exit. I punch a preset button on the Harmon Cardon with it cranked up loud, looking for one last drink of premium sound….and there is Zeppelin! It could not have been more poetic. Again, near tears but this time sadness, not joy.
A couple of quick sips of power as I navigate into the dealership. This deal could not have gone smoother. From the time I pulled off the freeway on Wednesday until I was walking out the door with a signed agreement was 55 minutes. I had thought to just look at the lot. They only had four trucks. Oh well, I'll go. Well, just check on prices. Started talking to Chris, the sales guy. Thirty minutes to close. "I have a trade in," I say, thinking that would discourage him. "Give me the keys and I'll have our mechanic take a look." Ten minutes later, he brings out the first term sheet. $5700 over what I would even consider. I say, "No." He says, "Make us and offer." I counter at my low price, he comes back with midpoint. I'm thinking, "I don't even want to do this," and so stick to my first price. "Can't you work with me just a little? Even $700?" "No," I say flatly. "It's late and I know you need to close. I'm just going to wait and come back later…don't worry about it. Thanks for the help." "Just let me ask once more," he says. I say OK and three minutes later, he comes back, sticks out his hand and says, "Congratulations!"
In my head, I know it's the best thing to do. As the truck is at another dealer and I would need to come back. I had a couple of days to think about it. Still, a good thing to do in my head so I determine to go through with it.
But now, I'm mad. Not mad at myself or mad that I did something I didn't want to, but mad that I'm even at this point at all where I'm having to sacrifice--and yes, this does feel like a sacrifice--something not familiar to me because I'm purposely not attached to outcomes--a dream that I've cultivated, grown and seen to fruition because I'm caught in a precarious situation where I have little control over my future financial security! For several months now, I've been working for the equivalent of hourly wage, depending and hoping that the organization I'm working with will get or stay lucky in order to get a future payoff. Minimal control over outcome and definitely limited control over payoff.
The demise of the Bimmer was born out of angst for the future. The thought was that if things go south, having one new car would be better and cheaper than two older cars. Less insurance, less to manage and less to wash. If I must go into "startup" or "teach high school" or "devote my life to writing or music" mode, two cars is an extravagance.
I drive the new truck home. It's white, and clean and not at all visibly different from my other truck. Maybe a titch smoother ride than the older brother with 100k miles but difficult to tell--Toyota's are such well built and practical cars.
And so, I start a new journey--or at least continue the old journey in a new car. But I kept the solid Z4 key ring with it's embossed BMW pinwheel…and I can still listen to Zeppelin!
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