« Travel Smartly with Dwell's Weekender Bag | Home Page | Dashboard Confessions - Tell us your Secrets! »
Daddy Driver: Nothing Is More Uncool...
January 18, 2008
by David Yorkin
I live in a town where your whole being is judged by what you drive. Los Angeles is a place where you have to be cool, while simultaneously appearing not to be trying to be cool.
Let me give you an example: to the enlightened Angelino, a brand new road-chomping one-hundred-fifty-thousand dollar Porsche Carrera is merely of a manifestation of an insecure ego, whereas a sluggish old four-cylinder Porsche 912 speaks of... well, effortless coolness coursing through your bloodstream. Forget performance. Image is everything. The difference between the two vehicles could cost you a second date with the uber babe of your dreams.
Okay, I hyperbolize. Truth is, I haven't had a second date with an uber babe during the last ten years I've been married to my wife. Except her, of course. Still, even though my hair has disappeared and paunch expanded, I'm still acutely conscious of my slowly waning cool factor.
At any rate, I ditched the beemer for an aubergine '96 Chevy Impala Supersport. That model Impala was a limited production 5.7 liter V8 rear wheel drive monster which became an instant classic. Basically, a Corvette in a full-size sedan's body, the Impala SS was the stock cop car which also, incidentally was the "hit car" for Biggie Smalls murder. So, it's got cool, in spades. And, lest you forget, gas was cheap back then.
The SS became my every day car until '03, when I retired it to second car status, and jumped back into BMW, in the form of a Mini Cooper S, mainly because of size, and the price of gas. (Once again, you might ask, what is cool about that? I don't have the answer. But it's a helluvalot of fun to drive.)
This is all leading up to the
arrival of twin baby girls into our lives last June. My wife already
agreed to install car seats into her black Caddy SLS, but it soon
became clear I'd also have to schlep the kiddies every now and then.
The Mini's backseat obviously couldn't cut it, so I made a command
decision, in the interests of Cool, of course.Over the years, my SS had gotten dinged, scratched, and the front end cheaply painted (when I broadsided a surfer who chugged through a red left turn signal in his Volkswagen van as I gunned it through traffic in the far right lane on PCH one Friday night) so if I was going to resurrect the monster, it needed a new paint job. Not just any paint job, I decided, but a boss silver shadow flame job over the hood and licking down the doors. What a great excuse to spend money! I justified it by imagining how thrilled my girls would be to be picked up at school by such a killer set of wheels. (Disregarding the cold fact that anything I do and drive will ultimately be supremely UNcool to them.)
Nevertheless, I went ahead with the project, which entailed waiting five months for the ganja smoking painter to get around to stenciling in the flames on my vehicle, but it was worth it -- my SS turns heads every time I drive it, especially from Hispanic males in this city.
One afternoon, I was showing off my sick ride to some parents of three year old twins.
"What're you going to drive the kids in?" was all they said. I stammered back that this was it. They shook their heads sadly, insinuating that there's no way I could make the Impala work. Excluding the gigantic trunk that could harbor an extended family of illegals, the usable space inside was limited. Duel car seats sucked up the whole backseat, which barely left room for two adults and two kids, without even starting on the cargo. Add our two dogs and all the gear necessary to keep the family fed, clean, clothed, and watered, and there's no way the SS could do the job.
"You need a minivan," was all they said. I was blown away. The four most uncool words in the English language. "You-need-a-minivan." I couldn't believe it. No, I couldn't accept it. I would find an alternative! I would keep my cool factor intact.
First I looked up hybrid minivans, since the gas mileage of all those carbon emitting Siennas and Odysseys is mediocre at best. The good news is, they exist. The bad news is Toyota doesn't export them to the US. They're making so much money on the internal combustion ones over here, why upset the market with a product that's more expensive for them to produce? No wonder Toyota hasn't fought for increased fuel standards in our country. They're making a killing off our American's insatiable demand for living space and power!
So, I considered a hybrid SUV. Unfortunately, the Fords' hybrid technology all goes into power, resulting in the fuel efficiency's not being much better than the regular SUV's. And it's a Ford. Cool, it ain't. I could go with Toyota, or Lexus, but space wise, they wouldn't hold my whole family and gear in one vehicle either.
On Christmas eve day, I finally surrendered. Tail between my legs, I schlepped to Glendale Kia, and bought a Sedona. (It's about ten grand cheaper that the Toyota, with ratings almost as high in Consumer's Reports.) The color choices were all execrable, so I went with the ugliest rental car color of them all - gold.
All throughout the experience, an aphorism ran through my mind. "Nothing is more unhip than being afraid to be unhip." I don't know who said this, Miles Davis, Timothy Leary, Madonna, whatever. But it's now my mantra. It has to be, as I embrace my new life as a minivan drivin' daddy.
And at least my logistical problems are over. The minivan can handle everything I can throw at it, right? So, after Christmas, we put it to the acid test -- a few days stay at my mother's house.
After a three-hour load in, we had the family packed. Three adults, two kids, two dogs. Gear for everybody -- suitcases, diapers, guitars, in-line skates, two strollers, formula, dog food, regular food, etc. Guess what? All of it wouldn't fit into the minivan! We had to use my mother in law's rental car for her bag as well as the Bob's Ironman stroller.
Yes, that's right. Even, the minivan wasn't big enough. Except that I neglected to utilize the CARGO ROOF. Hell, yeah! Just in case the Gold Kia doesn't isn't uncool enough, it'll look bitchin' with our kids' sassy seats lashed to the roof.
Can't wait. In fact, I'm going to the hardware store right now to buy rope.
David Yorkin is a writer in Los Angeles who hasn't had a moving violation in sixteen years.
in | by Robert | Mommy/Daddy Driver | Permalink |
Tags: chevy, los angeles, mini cooper, minivan, twins
Related Entries:
Previous Reader Opinions...
Great story about the torturous decision to buy the minivan! Thanks for this.Posted by: Susan | January 18, 2008 4:50 PM
Share Your Opinion
Grab this swicki from eurekster.com
