I dodged a bullet this weekend. We retired my ‘98 Ford Taurus (211,000 great miles) and replaced it with a new-to-us car. At this point in my life, it very easily could have been a mini-van.
Alas, it’s even worse.
Yeah, an SUV.
Technically, the Chrysler Pacifica is a crossover. Which is exactly the sort of thing someone would say when trying to justify owning an SUV. Of course, that’s also the whole point of this blog entry.
In the end, it comes down to this: I need a people-mover and this is as fuel-efficient as most vehicles with third-row seating.
I’ve been carpooling since gas hit the outrageous price of $2 a gallon. Our carpool can have anywhere from two to eight people riding on any particular day; any more than four and my Taurus means someone else has to drive. Seating six means less driving for everyone. And then there are the millions of wee-ones we’re planning on having. After all, we need some way to one-up Jon and Kate Plus 8.
We drove past our local war protesters on Saturday, holding down their usual street corner. The group is made up of living stereotypes: the scruffy hippies and the no-nonsense feminists, all holding their rainbow-colored signs calling for Bush and Cheney’s heads on silver platters. We sympathize with their views on the war, so we honked in support and my passenger flashed a peace sign as we turned the corner.
It wasn’t until driving back several minutes later that I realized our show of support probably evoked mixed feelings, since it came from a carbon-spewing doomsday vehicle. To them, we were just more SOBs in their SUVs.
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