My misery thy name is MINI

Krista went off with Kylie at 2:00 to ice skating.  Normal Monday routine.  At 2:15 she was back.  "The tire light went off in the car again."  Normal routine.

We have an oddball garage at home.  I have an enormous, overpowered, Nissan Titan truck (which has actually hauled quite a bit during its tenure) and Krista has a tiny, overpowered, MINI Cooper S.  It is the bane of our car time together these last 17 years.  

The MINI is a blast to drive, when you actually have some open space to drive it.  It handles flawlessly and it can downright fly.  When it is all cleaned up and spiffed out, it is one hot little ride.  When they first came out she wanted one.  Luckily, we still had another car payment we were making.  

We have enjoyed the following cars together over the past 17 years:

Suzuki Samuari

Toyota Corolla (which was Krista's, then her dad's, then mine)

Nissan Altima

Nissan Quest (had to get the minivan when the kid showed up)

Toyota Pickup (off a used lot and boy was it used)

VW Golf

VW Passat 

and the two current carbon footprint eaters.  I can say with all certainty, I hate cars now.  

I really love cars.  I go out and test drive cars on a pretty regular basis.  I read about cars, do research, ponder, dream.  But when the rubber meets the road, I hate them.  We have decided that the best car is the one that has no payment.  The reality is it is nothing more than a big batch of metal that gets you from where you are to where you aren't.

The recent ruin of GM and Chrysler are the underpinning of poorly designed cars.  They had nothing that anyone wanted to buy.  The cars themselves weren't all shoddy, but they had no appeal.  There was no lust, no want, nothing that made you sit up and take notice.  I don't care what my car looks like as long as it runs, does the job with little of my effort, and does not cause me a headache.

The MINI does not fit my definition, nor Krista's, any longer.  She is tired of loading for a full day of work and skating in a car that is literally not much longer than your fridge if it were laying down.  The trunk is the size of one of those mini-fridges that you keep in the TV room so you don't have to get up and miss your stories.  Cal, who is now almost as tall as Krista, has to bend himself in half to occupy the back seat.  With a full car, it sounds like the kids are sitting on our laps and screaming in our ears.  

I'm hoping that the MINI will not be around much longer.  So is Krista.  So if you're in the market . . .