Jane is driving. She doesn’t have a license or anything but she has her permit and a car. Getting her a car with her permit has been a wonderful decision. I didn’t remember learning to drive but now that I’m in the passenger seat with her I’m reminded of how difficult it is to learn about
This morning we’re all waking up to the news about the shootings and rampage in Isla Vista. Parents sent their kids to college and seven won’t make it home. Currently the shooter’s YouTube page is active and it plays like a bad movie about a rich, disaffected youth who doesn’t make it through puberty with
Mr. G’s Jaguar lease is about to end and we need to get him a new car. Before the Jag he had a bunch of BMWs all in a row, one after the other. They’re wonderful cars, one kept him safe in a major accident and they hold their value well. The problem is that they are boring. The city is littered with 5 Series BMWs and after 4 years of a Jaguar he has come to enjoy having a car that’s a little bit different. I have loved the 6 series Gran Coupe since I laid eyes on it.
Unfortunately I’m the only one who loves it. It doesn’t appeal to Mr. G. The 7 series is just too big and he doesn’t like Audi or Mercedes. I can’t even begin to talk to him about a Japanese car. They’re much too reasonable and reliable for our tastes I suppose.
When Mother’s Day rolled around Mr. G asked me what I wanted and I told him nothing and I meant it too. I’ve bought myself everything I need and most of what I want. I wanted to get my mom something a little more expensive and I wanted to have a day where I didn’t wash any dishes (that did not happen). I wanted the kids to start studying for final exams and I wanted Mr. G to pick a car so I could buy one for him in the coming weeks.
After lunch with my family we headed out to find a car for Mr. G. We both yawned at the 5 series, knowing that it’s the car we’d likely end up with, I dragged him to the Mercedes Dealership where he refused to drive anything as he didn’t like the look of a single one and then we landed in Dante’s Fourth Circle of Hell, the Maserati Dealership.
We looked at the Quattroporte as there are quite a few that are preowned with very low miles but it’s an absolute boat. The interior styling is unquestionably luxe but at a gazillion dollars the car we saw didn’t even have a backup camera. The salesman mocked me for caring so that might be why I decided that I hated the Ghibli, or it might have been because in between the Quattroporte and the Ghibli we drove a Panamera S and it appealed to us more than either of the Maseratis.
So we left the dealership knowing that we’d be calling my friend Jay at Beverly Hills Porsche. Mr. G likes the Panamera but I secretly thought I’d steer him to 911. Now that we have three cars they don’t all need to have back seats.
Then I considered something I’d previously ignored. We can buy the Jag. My husband loves that car, there’s nothing wrong it with (now) and the Mercedes will be going back in less than a year. Today I went ahead and purchased the Jaguar (for $10,000 under Kelly Blue Book, that was NOT a good lease) and Mr. G will continue driving it until my lease ends. At that point in time we’ll be knocking at Jay’s door for something obnoxiously fast and I’ll drive the Jag until the engine gives out and the wheels fall off (which could be soon).
So basically today I sold myself a used car.
Sunday night my friends at the Morris Animal Foundation invited me to join them as the Paul Mitchell School Foundation presented them with a check. I wasn’t really sure how to talk about the relationship between the two so I asked my friend Scott Koskoski, the Director of Major Gifts & Planned Giving for Morris
You don’t want to write that one. They’re about to be mandatory in all vehicles. You’ll have egg on your face. That’s what Jessica wrote in response to my desire to write about why I don’t exactly think backup cams are all that great. But, hey, I’m 23. This is likely one of the only