My friend has a BMW. As we know, they can be a bit finicky. When they’re humming along on all cylinders, they are a marvelous thing to take for a ride. But when they’re on the fritz, they are very high maintenance.
Me, I never wanted a fancy ride. Sure, I’m attracted to them. You can’t help but be attracted to their curvaceous lines, shiny finish and pretty smell. You can’t get enough of them originally, but eventually you learn that it’s only because you really wanted to look under the hood.
Initially, it’s not very easy to pop their hood either. Fancy rides don’t really want you to look too close, at least at first. They want you to be taken in by their beauty and charm. They want to seduce you first, and then if you’re really lucky, you can finally see what’s underneath.
It’s then that you learn about the maintenance issue. For a while they are just fine. New rides always are. But then they begin to act up. Just a little in the beginning. A knock here, a minor fit there. In an effort to keep things going, you engage in a little preventative maintenance. You make sure they get some after-market parts at the store, something shiny and expensive. You try everything you can think of to keep them idling nicely, but they continually get revved up and go haywire.
Before you know it, they are totally out of line. They don’t perform well at all. They act out at every opportunity. Eventually you’re not even given the option to pop the hood. Weeks, even months go by and you’re never get the chance to check levels with your dipstick. 😉
What you didn’t know was that those high maintenance models aren’t something you really want to take around the block on a regular basis. Sure, you want to take them for a little test drive when you’re on vacation. Who doesn’t love to take a long ride when you’re in the land of palm trees and boat drinks. Take the top down and grind through her gears a bit, exhilarated by the excitement of being in the company of a mighty fine ride. She is a beauty to behold. Everyone passing you is eating their heart out.
With any luck, she came with some nice options. Perhaps a big rack up top and a shapely rear end. Not too much trunk space, mind you. I mean, who wants to be seen with a minivan. Something sporty: nice lines, tight curves. A nice pearly white grill is an extra bonus, but we all know you were taken in by those huge headlights.
As I learned a few years ago, everything looks great on vacation. It’s a short term love affair. Yes, she’s a great ride in the tropics, but eventually you have to go home. And that’s when it’s better to have a dependable Chevy waiting for you.
My friend has learned this the hard way. He pays for it every day. He was seduced by the shiny little number he came upon. He didn’t think to check what’s under the hood before he entered into a long-term arrangement. He had no idea that this sporty model was actually a nightmare to be with day in and day out. Hell on wheels is what she is.
It was as if someone had done a bait and switch. At first glance, she was a seductive little number, low mileage and low maintenance. But then he came to find out that someone had dropped that gorgeous exterior on top of a worn out Pinto chassis. She was missing a few cylinders, her timing was atrocious and that once fiery demeanor, the one that had such amazing performance during those long evening rides early on, wouldn’t even spark once he got her home.
She became increasingly finicky and difficult to control. This wouldn’t have been so bad if it had been consistent. But it was a love/hate affair from the very start. You know the story. She’d go into fits unexpectedly, but every time he showed it to someone else to prove something was wrong, she would purr like a kitten. Everyone thought she was the best choice he could have ever made. Who doesn’t want to enjoy a little eye candy now and then? While other guys were stuck with that minivan, you had the ride everyone else wanted to get into and have a little go-time.
You? You couldn’t wait to unload her. And when the time finally came, you find you still haven’t learned a damned thing. You drive right past the Chevy lot and head over to the Maseratis, Lamborghinis and Teslas. You simply can’t help yourself because, well, you’re human and weak. In short, you’re a man.
As we know, men don’t think they want something that’s dependable. They want something that is exciting, high performance and beautiful to look at. They don’t want to go with something that will get them far better mileage or will be very low maintenance. For some reason, all sensibilities escape them and no matter how many times they got burned in the past, they still think this time it will work out.
Sorry guys. High maintenance rides will never get you very far. Eventually she will sputter and spew, smoke will pour from under the hood and you will get burned. You’ll end up on the side of the road, broken down, wondering what went wrong. It all seemed so perfect when you drove it out of the lot, but you got stuck with a lemon, my friend.
Then that damned old Chevy chugs by.
She’s never going to go 90 or take the corners. She’s not quite as shiny and new as that exotic ride you thought you were in love with. But she’s dependable and would never leave you stuck in the middle of nowhere. So you convince yourself right then and there that you are going to be a Chevy man from here on out. No more exotic, high maintenance rides for you.
And then it happens. Just as you’re going to be a Chevy lover for the rest of your life a sweet little Ferrari GT pulls up, seeing if you want to take a little spin. And she’s got a huge after-market rack no less. Chevy? What Chevy?
In the Emerald City, enjoying the ride, not the destination,
– Robb