Watch “Little Miss Sunshine”. It’s where you stow uncle Alan Arkin.

I get it. Growing up in southern NY state, the ‘Joisy Tunpike’ was an on-ramp to somewhere special. Whether on my way to deliver a snowbird’s Buick to Boca Raton, visit a girlfriend studying at a Virginia college, or test a newly built Corvair engine on a trip to a convention in Minnesota, there was an adventure…

a friend of mine put 3-pipe exhaust tips on each side of a 1973 Capri with a single exhaust. You were unlikely to notice that only one pipe was blowing smoke since you already concluded that he was groping for attention with six pipes coming off his tail

while keeping in mind that much of what arrives here from overseas has already been in production somewhere for a while

depends on how high up you are...I once lived in a 14th floor apartment that had no screens and never needed them. Most bugs don’t fly that high.

that’s why you carry a shovel to fill the bed with snow and gain a few extra....tractions (?)

...with a clever fix, I’m sure, and a sly wink when suggesting a blinker fluid flush and an upgrade to radial wiper blades...

...and I only wish that I had the funds for a SportCross when I had to settle for a WRX wagon that -with responsible adult use- ate a clutch and two engines by 40,000 miles

The world would be better served by eliminating the rear doors on half the compact trucks and SUVs that are sold to people who lack both a need to carry rear passengers and any options in the marketplace.

Had a ‘67 Chevy Biscayne that cost me all of $15 and [with a few small repairs] I drove back and forth between NY and Virginia for a year. My finances stabilized, I upgraded my ride to a 1968 Corvair, and sold the car to a friend of a friend of a friend....I learned of its subsequent adventures when he ran from a hit…

we’ll eventually read that she subsequently tried to hire an undercover cop who she thought was a hit man to kill the husband who murdered the Asian and learned the hard way that’s not how double jeopardy works

I once (1970s) worked for a supermarket chain that pulled old trailers out of service and offered them to employees, delivered to the location of their choice for $500...a great deal for the guys that could live in our ratty, battered boxes as a hunting camp for a few days at a time, but those were the only takers I…

While Subaru would have lost me over the CVT, the lack of a hatchback or wagon drove me away years ago. 

Still better than the current trend of run-flat tires, no spare, and a call for a flatbed if the sidewall is damaged. Depending on where it’s punctured, a run-flat can be repaired, but only if it isn’t driven after it’s ”fully flattened”, but few tire shops will even try, claiming that replacement is mandatory…

My lesbian daughter hated every Subaru I ever owned, particularly the Outback that stalled and needed an ECU reboot on the way to the road test for her drivers license. She now drives a Volvo.

Nor have I, but I’m always willing to listen to a voice with experience relevant to the conversation. 

...and I could outrun Mother Teresa and jump higher than Stephen Hawking. You take your victories where you find them.

Ahhhh......brings back memories of my ‘Easy Rider’ chopper bicycle with a coaster brake, one speed and a two foot fork extension made from galvanized electrical conduit pipe. With a turning radius of twenty feet or so, I’m surprised I survived riding that thing on public roads.

These actually handled pretty well compared to the competition of the time. I had the misfortune of owning both a Vega and a Pinto, and my girlfriend drove a VW fastback. Moving between the three of them, the Vega felt like a Lotus.

I was once where they were....about to buy a house, driving a thrice-rear-ended Samurai or a BMW 2002 that kept catching fire, when my wife’s Civic tossed its timing belt. Short on cash (dedicated to a down payment) and a credit fears calmed by a loan already approved...our anxieties was quelled by a dirt cheap lease…