I decided a long time ago that for my next car, I wanted a Toyota Matrix. I am very loyal to Japanese cars in general and Toyota in particular. I loved Gypsy, my Corolla. She was the right car at the right time for me. Small, reliable, great mileage, peppy and a tight turning radius. That seems a weird thing to brag about, I know. But in the course of going to yard sales every Saturday morning, you do a lot of turning around on small neighborhood roads. Gypsy could turn on a dime. I wanted something like that, but with a little more cargo room. I wanted something that could carry a small freezer. Apparently, my life revolves around carting around old junk that I pick up from other people.
I became even more convinced of my love for Toyotas when on vacation in Kansas, where I drove a Chevy Aveo. It was my first extended experience with American cars, and after it, I could not understand why anyone would ever drive one of those things. The big difference was in the steering. When I turn Gypsy's wheel, she turns. The responsiveness was fluid and immediate. The Corolla did what I told it to do, like Officer Sulu following Captain Kirk's orders on the Enterprise. The Chevy, however, was like a mutinous helmsman. It did not respond as quickly or as well as my little car back home, and I hated it. If the Aveo is indicative of the kind of cars this country is putting out, then those companies deserve to go out of business.
When my car died (rest in peace), I set out to buy a Matrix. I was going to test drive it as a formality, because I don't even buy jeans without trying them on first. I was also going to look at the Honda Fit, just so I could say that I did a little research in the competition. I have a high opinion of Hondas, but I don't have the fierce loyalty that comes from being in the trenches with a Toyota. A Honda has never gotten me through a blizzard, nor has it ever carried home a day's haul of yard sale treasures.
As I mentioned before, test driving the Matrix left me thoroughly underwhelmed. The gas mileage was not quite as good as I had hoped. I'll just mention now that I am very disappointed with gas mileage levels that cars of today are getting. My car is eight years old and she consistently got 30 miles to the gallon, every single tank. So why, in eight years, have we not done a lot better than that? What was great eight years ago should be average now.
But the real problem with the Matrix was the acceleration. When I first got Gypsy, I was enthralled with how peppy she was. I'd been driving an 1991 Corolla, the Patty-wagon, who was steady and reliable, but had all but lost all her zip. Going to a new Corolla felt like putting jet engines on a skateboard. I was thrilled with the fact that I could pass other cars while going uphill. Clearly, my standards were very low in terms of accelerating. Over the past eight years, Gypsy has also gotten slower, just like the Patty-wagon before her. The last time I took her up the mountain to Boone, she was struggling noticeably on the inclines. I hated merging on the interstate, because I had such a hard time getting up to speed. I didn't look forward to putting Gypsy out to pasture, but I did look forward to accelerating again.
The Matrix did not fulfill my desires there. It was only nominally better than Gypsy, who was old and sick. Young and healthy cars should go faster than old and sick cars. Toyota, are you listening? You might want to look into that.
I guess when I test-drove the Fit, I was looking to be impressed. I had been disappointed by the Matrix, though I wasn't really admitting that to myself yet. And then once I did take the Fit out for a spin, I started noticing all the other lovely qualities. The gas mileage, the standard air bags, the turning radius. The Fit can't turn as tightly as the Corolla, but she could probably turn on a Canadian dime, which is slightly bigger.
I picked up my Fit last night. It is RED, the REDdest RED that ever was RED. What with the limited stock of fuel efficient vehicles right now, I told them anything red or blue. I have no problem with people who drive white or silver or black cars, but I am not one of them. I drove her last night to get celebratory milkshakes. I appreciated her sleekness, her shinyness, her many buttons. But mostly I noticed how fun she was to drive, fluid and responsive. I have no idea what method of transportation people will be using 100 years from now, but I can't help but think that there is a unique joy in driving a good car. Maybe we are missing out some pleasure derived from manning a Conestoga, but there is something very satisfying about being one with a powerful machine on a good North Carolina road, slightly curvy, with sunlight periodically breaking through the trees.
It is too soon to say whether the Fit is the right car at the right time for me, the way that Gypsy was. And I don't have a name for her yet. I mean, we just met (Josh suggested I name her "Firetruck"). But she looks like a car that I can be friends with. And she could totally tote a small freezer.
3 comments:
I'm glad we're not the only ones who still do the milkshake thing. Although when we bought Doug's RED RED RED car in January we went to Starbucks for mochas instead. Too cold for milkshakes. :)
Just remember to change the oil, okay? Every 5,000 miles should do fine. You can even do it yourself, it's very easy with the right tools. I can even teach you if you want.
My old car did not die because I forgot to change the oil. It died because I was slack about adding more oil, which it probably needed at least once a week.
The Fit actually has a little indicator in the instrument panel that says when you need an oil change. It doesn't go by mileage. I'm not sure how it works, but Josh says that it probably measures the viscosity of the oil and bases it on that.
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