Bye Bye Toyota. Hello Mercedes!

The subject title might be misleading, but I have to use it as a title since that's what's ringing in my ear. For those of you who didn't know, I didn't trade in my Toyota for a new Mercedes. That's upgrading. I sold my Toyota and kept my Mercedes. This is downsizing. If you still don't see the difference between upgrading and downsizing, let's hear it. Bring in music. Drums please. With upgrading, it's the harmonic "hallelujah!" chorus. With downsizing, it's the off the tune "What da heck" solo.

As I was just feeling a sense of loss looking at the empty dark space in the garage where my Toyota used to fill in, I heard this TV auto commercial from the living room "You should never replace joy with practicality". Da. You shouldn't! Da. I didn't!

If my Toyota were a lemon, then the downsizing could have been celebrated as if it were upgrading. But no. My Toyota has been as perfect as a Toyota can be. For you patriotic Chinese with strong anti-Japanese commodity sentiment out there, I confess I'm a traitor. But blame at them, the Japanese commodities. They are bad because they are just too good to resist. After 120,000 miles, my Toyota still runs and drives like a brand new car. Unlike all my American-made predecessors, this is the only car that has never failed me. With my Toyota, I've never been issued any traffic tickets flying over 60 miles/hr at a 40 mile/hr speed limit road, non-stopping at stop signs. Pure luck? Sure but I have never had such a luck with my previous cars. Okay. My Toyota is just a midsize SUV, not a Tank or Hummer as I really needed. It fell into ditches and got stuck in snow a few times, not to its own accord but due to the operator errors. What can I say? To err is human. I'm just a human. My Toyota is a machine. That 4-wheel drive machine always saved me out of my human errors without any outside rescue effort. Other than a few interior scratches inside the storage compartment, from me jamming it with the real estate signs/metal posts, and a couple of un-noticeable dings at the parking lot, my Toyota has been good to me. As a car bought specifically for selling real estate in mind, I have bought this car many times over with how much real estate I have sold over the years driving in it. It really earned that parking spot in the garage.

Now my Mercedes. Undeserving for any practical reasons. Vanity drives sale of brand cars. I swear I'm vain but in this case stubbornness might have to do with getting my Mercedes. The rational for getting this convertible second car: convertible and 2nd, is very irrational. It rains so much in Washington. No convertible time for me; My primary car Toyota never breaks down. No second car backup need for me. But it's not the need but the want always in my mind. I've always wanted a convertible. I've always wanted a second car. It's mind over matter. If I don't mind, it does not matter. But I mind so it matters. With that in mind, I bought this Mercedes for that matter.  For the same mind vs matter, I once owned a Chevrolet tracker, a convertible wannabe. It was a wannabe because it's only manual soft-top convertible. Taking the top off and putting it back on was a job by itself. Because of the hassle, when I did take the hassle taking the top off, I usually left it off for a very long time. That was when I was in Houston. Roads in Houston are flat, and for most of the year it's warm and sunny so my Tracker was at least somewhat practical. Loved the warm air against my skin, the fresh smell of grass and the openness from the car every time I drove my Chevrolet topless. Remembered one time at a stop sign, a homeless black man at the crossroad danced along to my loud car music - Marvin Gaye's song "I heard it through the grapevine".  To make the record straight, he heard it through the open roof not through the grapevine. I felt so good about that fact that the topless car not only brought joy to the driver but also to a stranger. Of course, many times, the tracker was completely soaked wet inside from heavy rains while parking on the office building rooftop. After that tracker, I knew I wanted an automatic convertible. Before my Toyota, My American cars always broke down on me, one thing after another. They always gave me a few days' commute inconvenience. That prompted my wanting for a second car as back up in case something happens to my primary car. This convertible Mercedes was only meant to be a dry summertime second car. Dry summer days in Washington mean a low two digit number. When I finally get to drive it, of course once a while during those low two-digit number days, with its hard top down, Boss music playing and warm breeze over my head, driving is believing. Nothing to do when the sun is up? let's go for a drive. Drive, drive, drive. Drive yourself free and sane. The rest of the time, my Mercedes was bored resting in the garage as a greeter and sitter to my Toyota after it was pulled in from a day's hard work. I imagine them carrying a conversation in the garage sometimes.

Mercedes: Hi buddy. How was your day this afternoon?
Toyota: Sucks! It was raining and cold out there. I was first on a bumpy logging road. It was so bumpy that my stomach hurts, and then on to a crush rock road. It was so dusty. I looked dirty and desperately needed a real bath as you can see but you know how our master is.  She thinks rain is the car wash for me. Then we landed at this fixer-up for sale in the middle of nowhere. Can you believe my master drove me all the way to see that? So how did your day go this morning?
Mercedes: Sweet! It was nice and sunny. My master took me on a smooth paved scenic road. We stoppped at the cute coffee house. I saw other people checking me up at the parking lot and they told her they loved me too. There my master detected one tiny spot on my right eyebrow (windshield wiper) I didn't even notice but she cleaned it alway anyway with a soft tissue carefully. On the way back, the sky looked cloudy so my master hurried me home to the garage.

Some people say cars are only devices taking us from Point A to Pint B. That's car talk strictly from a practicality point of view, assuming we use cars as tools only for their functionality. That's my Toyota talking. Some people buy cars for their functionality and resale value. It's just a car. You only need it for transportation. That's all. I once questioned as many paint colors we had for car, why didn't we see a lot of vibrant color cars on the road. I was told it was easier for resale and repaint. It's the same way with houses. Fewer and fewer people are going with bold colors for their walls not because the neutral colors are their most favorite colors. It's because they are told that the neutral colors are better for future resale.  That's well and good. But excuse me. Are you telling me you are living in someone else's future home? You argue it's practical. Practical? I turn my head to my Mercedes. "Don't look at me", my Mercedes seems to say. I hear myself reason on behalf of my Mercedes: If we purchase a commodity solely based on practicality, aren't we missing something? If we strip cars down to only the practicality level, we strip the joy out of driving. Case in point: If we strip clothing to warmth level, no fashion; Strip houses to shelter level, no decor; Strip sex to biological reproduction level, no romance; Strip living to existance level, no life. Think cave age. Think your great-great-great.. grandma. Then other people say you are what you drive. That's car talk from choice point of view, assuming that everything goes with us represents our choices. That's my Mercedes talking. Within means, in a certain scale, including but not limited to practicality such as personal finance, and car availability and functionality, we choose which car to buy after considering color, size, style, brand, ...The car you end up driving can be a temporary statement of you. Not completely and not always but perhaps in some degree and sometimes? After you drive your car long enough, your car even looks like you (to me anyway). We become what we drive. Don't we? Also, most of us judge/discriminate people for the things that go with us: looks, clothes, houses, jobs, bank accounts..oh and cars, or to be judged or discriminated by them. Don't we? I picture a shinny new BMW side by side with a badly beaten up Nissan pickup. Their drivers get into a road rage on the Highway. The BMW driver yells at the Nissan pickup "You Piece of crap! Never should be even allowed on the road!” The Nissan driver yells back at the BMW driver "You Snob! Think you have money you can buy a BMW but you don't own the road". There you are. Those two drivers don't even know each other. But do you see how the car discrimination is easily turned back to the people who drive the cars?!

I imagine if cars were animals, my Toyota was a working cow and my Mercedes was a pet dog. Now that the working cow is gone, I'll be forced to play my pet dog more. Haha! but... Can I expect my pet dog produces like a working cow. Let's see:

Yesterday as I gave a last glance of my Toyota after I handed the keys to the new owners, I started to envision my life thereafter without my Toyota. I imagine I am sitting in my office. A couple walks into my office. Finally, a walk-in buyer! They come in with a flyer of a house and they are adamant they have to see it right away. They tell me that they are pre-approved by their lender...ready to go! I jump from my chair. Let's go! I lock the office behind me. Wait!
- Ride with me? Sorry. No free ride. It's a two car seat, for me and my purse only;
- Any dusty dirt road to the property? Sorry no Mercedes on dirt roads.
As I watch them leave, I head over to my car. There goes my commission. Sigh. Here comes my Mercedes. Smile.