That New Car Smell

Goodbye, old friend. Navy blue Toyota 4/Runner that served me well for exactly three years.

Tuesday was my D-Day. I had waited to the last possible day to deal with my car lease. I figured that, with the economy, there would be no problem. Tons of great deals would be awaiting me as I pulled up to Longo Toyota in El Monte, which is situated somewhere between Los Angeles and Pluto.

Okay, first we must backtrack. How the hell do I drive an hour outside of LA and civilization to get a car when there are oodles of Toyota dealers near my home? This grizzly journey, which happens every three years when my lease terminates, began in 1997 when I first moved to SoCal. I was in the middle of a NY car lease and had shipped my car West. By rights, with California emission standards, there was no way realistically that Toyota should have let me turn in that car in the Pacific time zone. But, luckily, my NY dealer had met another sales guy at a national convention. Turns out they both won awards. A connection was forged. The only problem was that Jules, the LA salesman, was based in the Land of Never.

Jules has done right by me and my roommate ever since. The quintessential Jewish salesguy who loves to use the word "schlep" and "meshuggah," you could always count on him for the best deal.

Until Tuesday.

I had done my homework and wanted to switch to a Highlander. The SUV that is not so much a SUV with great gas mileage. From past experience, I would have tons of choices. Longo is the largest Toyota dealer in California.

Well, not on Tuesday. With car sales at a standstill, inventory is low. I had more cars in my Matchbox collection when I was five. And the Highlanders on display? There was more in Mother Hubbard's cupboard.

The one Highlander that met my needs had one problem. The color. Blue. Bright, bright blue. Bozo's costume without the buttons blue. Blue that could be seen via satellite on Google Maps.

The light blue color I craved was found on just one Highlander. A Hybrid. A car that had a MSRP of ten thousand dollars more.

I know now what a panic attack feels like.

I looked at other makes. The new and incredibly hot Venza. Correction: the new and incredibly hot and wildly priced Venza. Even my old favorite, the 4/Runner, was a tough get with lousy gas mileage to boot.

I was turning shades of blue that were even brighter than the Highlander I was considering. Do I settle or spend more a month for a Hybrid, given that I don't give a shit about my carbon footprint? And, if I did the Hybrid, would my closest friends shun me for validating that bloated idiot Al Gore?

As it turned out, I discovered that, by ditching the running boards, the monthly cost on the Hybrid would come down fifty bucks. And, with the gas savings, my every-thirty-day epxenditure would net out at only $150 more.

Gasp, $150 more! You want to know what that looks like? Here you go.

The car is nifty. When you are in reserve, a little TV screen shows you what you are backing up into. That comes in handy because there have been times when I do back up into something. And this is a keyless car. As long as you have this little device in your pocket, you simply hit the "power" button to turn on the car. It's called the Smart Key. Not to be confused with the Smart Car, which is not so smart to drive because I already know three people who have had theirs totalled. An empty can of Spam is a safer vehicle. Of course, having no key means I can't key a car that parks too close to me in a garage. Anti-theft and anti-vandalism all rolled up in one.

So, essentially, a more expensive day but one that should even out over time. Just don't tell Al Gore.

Dinner last night: Meat loaf at the LA Beach Club.