All my life I have had magnificently bad cars. Most were by choice, some were mistakes which should have been foreseen, sometimes I just fall in love. As often as not, I fall in love with something I would like to see in the garage, rather than truly own, or be dependant upon.
I have wanted a Range Rover Classic since about the day after I first saw one. I can't imagine a more useless piece of rolling toxic waste, but my heart just skips a beats every time I see one. My little friend on my shoulder says it won't hurt that often. I know better.
Since giving up my car to Number 2 son this summer we have been a one car family if I don't count the Bentley. It really hasn't been inconvenient having one car, just limiting.
So with the big storm approaching I thought I'd approach my bride with logic. We'll be stuck in the woods forever, without one, I suggested. The neighbor plows the drive, was her retort.
The car is near free, the on going expense no greater than a severe gambling addiction. Still she says no.