Philip Johnson’s hidden collection is uncovered
The new- car dance has different steps now. Gone is the day when you waltzed into a showroom and did a tricky tango with an aggressive guy in a bad sport jacket who at some point would ask, “What is it going to take for me to put you into this car today?”
To which you would think, but not say out loud: “I don’t know, what would it take for me to put you into a different sport jacket today?”
No, nowadays you go into a dealership almost pre sold. You have been online researching models, styles, options, packages, performance reviews, prices. The low- key salesman knows what you know, so he skips the hard sell in favor of the test drive. Then, you pretty much sell the vehicle to yourself.
After that it’s just dickering over the price and coming to grips with the feeling that while you got good deal, somehow the dealer made out better.
What you are looking for in a car changes over the years. When I was first out of college, the only thing I was looking for in a car was one that ran. One year I went through so many junk cars that the DMV sent a letter warning me that if I bought or sold one more car I would have to get a dealer’s license.
After my junk- car phase I had a sports- car phase, a skiing- in- Vermont- Jeep phase, a boring family vehicle phase, a middle- age crisis phase, a “This Old House” pickup truck phase, a full- size SUV phase and, for the last eight years, a Subaru Outback phase.
The Subaru and I have split up. The parting was amicable. Love may be a Subaru, but love fades. In any case, it wasn’t the Outback, it was me.
Newly unattached, I went online and started new- car speed dating. I wasn’t sure what I wanted at first. The more I flirted, however, the more I became enchanted by vehicles in the “luxury” category.
The attraction was al- most involuntary. When you reach a certain stage in life, you don’t go looking for a luxury vehicle as much as it comes looking for you.
The heated seats, the plush interior, the climate control, the sound system, the blue tooth, the navigation, the quiet ride are a seductive package.
And then there are the safety features, blind- spot notification, lane- departure warning, wide- angle backup camera, cross- traffic alerts, all- wheel drive. These cars tool around looking for an accident to avoid.
The first obstacle to my forming a relationship was price. Another term for luxury vehicle is high end, and my high end is on the low end.
While I quickly came to realize that there would be no new- car smell in my future, I found there was hope in the previously owned market. Used luxury, I figured, is just as comfortable as new luxury, plus you can always buy newcar smell in a can.
The next consideration was make and model. I knew I wanted a midsize SUV, but which one? Truth is, they do all kind of look the same.
The ultimate decision, I have realized, will probably come down to an intangible — image. ( I’m shallow, OK?) You are what you drive, and somehow I don’t see myself as a Mercedes, or Beamer or Range Rover guy.
I could see myself as a Lincoln guy, though, but I think that is mostly because of the song:
“Son, you’re gonna drive me to drinkin’ if you don’t stop driving that hot rod Lincoln.”
Another surprise contender turns out to be the midsize SUV made by Cadillac. Although I like the Springsteen song, “Pink Cadillac,” music has nothing to do with its lure. The attraction here is that the bells and whistles have bells and whistles. It’s like driving around in your living room.
The challenge now is seeing myself as a Caddy guy.
It’s proving to be a tough sell.