I remember reading somewhere that the second biggest purchase that the average person or family will make, apart from their house, will be their car.
We love our cars and the motor manufacturers know it well. Every year they roll out the latest models, fitted with all the latest gadgets and gimmicks and every year they try and out-do their rivals to win the sales race.
We have been car owners for as long as we have been married and with one exception our vehicles have been second hand or, as some would say, pre-owned.
We usually change cars every two or three years and we had just arrived home with the latest Cowin carriage.
Now it doesn’t take much to start my memory juices running and trying to make sense of an instruction manual for a new car is more than enough to send me into a daydream.
I drifted back to an afternoon about 35 or so years ago. I was at work as usual in Strand Street. It was the middle of the summer and the ‘Street’ was buzzing. Those of us who can remember the ‘old days’ will smile and nod our heads knowingly when we hear people talking about how they look forward to Race Week and the island coming to life. We know the truth.
I only mentioned that it was the middle of the summer to set the scene.
I was in the shop, busy with customers when the phone rang.
It was Brown Eyes.
‘I’ve just come back in to work,’ she said. ‘It is such a nice day so I went for a stroll around the block in the lunch hour and I’ve just seen this brilliant car for sale.’
Now at this stage I should explain that at that time one of the benefits of my job included the use of a little green Austin A35 van. In those days this was a rare ‘perk’, for which I was very grateful. But it also meant that our family transport was in my wife’s name.
So I said: ‘That sounds interesting, what sort of car is it’? She replied: ‘It is a white Ford Sierra diesel.’
Now anyone who knows my wife will tell you that she is a kind, generous, good natured, lovely person. But there are always some intimate, private secrets that are only spoken of in the privacy of your own home. So I looked around the shop to make sure that no one was listening and said quietly: ‘But you don’t like Fords, you can’t stand white cars,and you hate diesels.’ I had no answer to her female logic: ‘Well I like this one.’
A lesson to learn and remember. Always trust your wife’s intuition when you are buying a used car. The ‘white-Ford-diesel-story’ came to mind the other day.
We were thinking about changing the family wheels and had been doing a spot of showroom shopping.
We’ve bought a few cars over the years and usually have a good idea of what we have in mind before we start looking round. But it’s always nice to have a wander and a window shop,
Now before we go any further, can anyone explain the difference between ‘second-hand’ and ‘pre-owned’?
Here’s a clue.
If you fancy a Ford, it is sure to be second hand, but if a BMW or Mercedes is on the top of your wish list, your dream machine will be pre-owned.
So the difference between second-hand and pre-owned? About £20,000.
I can safely say that we are quite definitely in the ‘second-hand’ department.
Now the spirit might be willing but the body always tells the truth, and no matter how good a driver I think I am, the fact remains that I am a 76 year old pensioner with two walking sticks and Parkinson’s disease.
The car that we were saying goodbye to was a very sporty, very close to the ground two door Volkswagen two litre turbo diesel folding roof cabriolet rocket ship.
We arrived home in a Ford B Max automatic with high seats and sliding doors. Always trust your wife’s intuition.