I'm becoming my father.
I realized much too late that my father was a car guy. He just had an odd way of showing it. From the early 1960's through the mid 80's, every 3 years he ordered a Chevy Impala. Convertible, coupe, sedan, hot rod, he had them all. Six in a row in fact (1961-1984).
In reaction to a lifetime of the same, I have never purchased the same car twice. My bride on the other hand likes what she likes, and doesn't much care for change. To Mrs. T a car is an appliance. (I wrote about it lovingly here.) It better work. It had better be big enough to carry all the grandkids, their stuff, our stuff and any other stuff.
Her last two cars have been trouble free Mercury Grand Marquis's. Imagine a police cruiser. It looks like that.
Since I broadcast that I was looking for a car, Mrs. T and her land yacht have been in a serious accident. Early in the week, her yacht was laid to rest by the insurance adjuster. My car search went on hold, while we replaced "the family car".
Unthinkingly male, I foolishly said "that deep down, I really couldn't do 3 Merc's in a row. We've done it, time to move on," That was met with "it just saved my life, it's reliable", and other sensible girl rationalizations along with a rasher of hot tongue and cold shoulder. Mrs. T eventually did consent to an open minded look see. Like the trooper she is, she went.
Armed with your suggestions we looked, we narrowed, we drove, we reached a compromise. Then we got home.
On top of the mail was an advert from a local dealer. The ad read,"We have a boatload of pre owned 2010 Grand Marquis's. Each has 10,000 miles and is priced at 55% of the original sticker." So what if Mercury is an orphan brand, so am I.
The car Mrs. T WANTED all along, in the right color, right trim, and thousands less than our compromise choice? It's a done deal.
It looks exactly like this.
The New York Times had a wonderful obit for the GM on Sunday. Mrs T's comes home tomorrow.
12 hours ago