I write in defense of clunkers.
This is an era of soul-searching for people whose cars meet the federal standards.
Mine is a small SUV that I bought new in 2002 ostensibly for its safety ratings, but really for its cup holders and butt warmers. It gets 17 miles a gallon — a number I’m not proud of particularly but not ashamed of, either.
Under the rules of the feds’ financially strapped “Cash for Clunkers” program, I could snag somewhere between $3,500 and $4,500 by turning in my keys and buying a more fuel-efficient replacement. When it comes to cleaning the air and stimulating the economy, my car has a duty to die.
I’ll admit, I’ve considered pulling the plug.
Antipathy set in when it broke, big time, at 47,000 miles, requiring a whole new transmission and other tweaks that I’ve since blocked from memory. I begrudgingly renewed my vows, yet haven’t since fully trusted it — nor cleaned it nor maintained it much beyond changing the oil, for that matter.
This has freed up lots of time in my schedule.
But it has also led to car shame.
It started when a rock hit the windshield and the small ding metastasized into a major crack. Then came the steady leak into the back window after my youngest tried to pry it away from its rubber casing with his Chinese yo-yo.
“It smells like camp,” is how our eldest describes the scent from the back seat on days after it rains.
For a bit of context, it’s worth noting that I’m a Detroiter. My people take pride in their courteous driving, the upkeep of their own cars and the products their neighbors help build. I feel like I owe it to my ailing hometown to cash in my foreign clunker.
The Obama administration has done its part by describing the purchase of a new car as an act of patriotism, even in a country that owes more than $30,000 per person.
“I do my part, you know, to keep the country moving,” said Junior Mendez, parking the Pontiac Solstice GXP coupe he bought last week after getting a second job to meet the payments.
Local auto dealers will have you believe that you’re saving the planet by cashing in, raising fuel efficiency a few miles per gallon. What they don’t advertise is the pollution created by manufacturing a new car, not to mention dumping your old one in a landfill.
“As a rule, I try not to get self-righteous about what I drive,” said Andy Stein, the pragmatic owner of a new Prius.
We reuse our shopping bags and teach our kids to eat what’s on their plates. “Cash for Clunkers” undercuts what little progress we’ve made rethinking debt and over-consumption.
More to my point, though, is that the “Clunkers” program devalues the peace of mind that comes with driving a car that’s already paid for and depreciated. There’s something priceless about not thinking twice during a hail storm or worrying about rogue shopping carts at Costco.
I met a woman named Connie at a carwash Monday. She drives a 1988 Toyota Corolla on which she splurged $37 for a “superwash extra.”
“Twenty-one years, I’ve had that car. Raised two kids in it. Carpooled. It owes me nothing. And what I like best is that it doesn’t honk when I unlock it,” she said before the attendant waved his towel.
She tipped him and smoothed her hand over her newly polished dashboard and freshly vacuumed upholstery.
“What I also like is that I drive my car,” she added. “My car never, ever drives me.”
Susan Greene writes Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Reach her at 303-954-1989 or greene@denverpost.com.
