Arguing For (and Against) Upgrading My Car

I drive a base model 2009 Honda Civic coupe that is in good condition and is paid off.  It does everything I need it to do adequately, it's moderately fun to drive, it sips gas no matter how fast I drive, and it's like a cockroach - it'll never break down, even in event of nuclear war.  It also completely lacks features and even though I've owned it for less than three years, I've been thinking recently that I want to upgrade my automobile.

Last Wednesday, the Wall Street Journal published an article regarding current prices for used cars that are (a) Japanese, (b) fuel-efficient, and (c) less than four years old.  Simply put, those who decided to purchase fuel-efficient small foreign cars in 2008 are now seeing historically high resale and trade-in values for these cars on the open market today.  This is due to fuel prices that are approaching 2008 levels, as well as the Japan earthquake/tsunami back in March which led to a serious kink in the supply chain.  Further, because 2008 was such a shitty year economy-wise, fewer people bought new cars then, so there happen to be fewer three-year-old cars to sell at this point in time.  Combine that with the idea that if someone plans to buy a used car, buying a three-year-old used car is optimal (based on how car values depreciate over time), and you have a perfect storm of factors combining to create these market conditions for selling or trading in my car.

The WSJ.com article cites Jesse Toprak of Truecar.com, who states (emphasis mine): "The best case scenario is that you have a trade-in that is somewhat gas efficient, and you are ready to trade for a larger vehicle."

You've heard part of my situation earlier in the post, but here's the second part: I bought the Civic when I was a second-year Ph.D. student, about three months before the idea of leaving graduate school and entering industry entered my mind.  I earned $25,000 as a graduate student in 2008, and with the idea of spending three (or four, or more) years after that as a graduate student in my head, buying an inexpensive car with low monthly payments certainly made sense to me at the time.

Without going into too much detail, entering industry has been a modestly successful financial decision for me, and I've been able to pay off the car in just under three years.  So given all of this, it may be time to upgrade my driving situation.

If I were to upgrade my driving situation, here's how I'd do it:

•  I'd consider trading in my Civic (it'd be worth something like $14,000 as a trade-in), but might also sell it privately on Craigslist (where it might be worth up to $16,000).
• I'd supplement the cash from selling the Civic with some savings I've already put toward a new car (which are about $3,000).
• With that $17,000-$19,000 in hand, I'd finance the rest.  I'd only want to spend about $30,000 on the car, which would likely be a new "entry level luxury sedan" (think something like the Acura TSX, except not an Acura TSX)...
• ...because I want to keep my monthly payments under $250/month (which is about what my monthly payments were for the Civic).

I haven't made up my mind yet.  I've told myself that I'll wait another month before I do.  That being said, here are the best arguments I can think of for why I should make the leap and upgrade my car, as well as some reasons why I shouldn't...

****************************

Reasons Why Fred Should Upgrade His Car

1. The Market's Telling Me To: I've discussed this above in enough detail, so I'll leave it at that.
2. It's Affordable Within Our Budget: Because of the plan I outlined above, the monthly payment I'd have with the new car would be roughly the same as what I was able to afford as a graduate student.  With the increased cash flow (compared with graduate school) in my industry position, there's no reason - short of being laid off, which is unlikely because the company I work for is doing fairly well, or having multiple kids, which is unlikely because I don't want a heart attack - that I wouldn't be able to afford the car payment over the next three or four years.
3. I'm Only Young Once, and it's "Time": I do work kind of hard, and having this house has been more maintenance work than I'd originally anticipated.  Given all of this, it'd be nice not to have to drive something pedestrian home from work, or around town.  My current car doesn't have a moonroof, power seats, or even Electronic Stability Control (which is an important added safety feature, required on cars sold in the US after model year 2009).
4. Reminds Me Of My Youth: I haven't had a nice car (and I'm using the term "nice" really liberally here) since my first car, which was a ten-year-old used Nissan Maxima that went pretty fast and was really fun to drive.  Being able to purchase a car in that range of automobile, but new, would have added meaning for me because it suggests that I've actually made something of my pitiful self.
5. The Economy Could Use The Gentle Caress of My Stimulus: An argument can be made - and I suppose I am making it - that in times of economic stagnation, those who can afford it should spend rather than save.  If the market's telling me to buy, it could be that it's telling some others to buy as well, and that's how economic recoveries tend to get started (or, in this case, start back up again).

***********************************


Reasons Why Fred Should NOT Upgrade His Car

1. We Just Bought a House: We're so new in this house that we haven't had a full round of monthly bills yet.  I'm confident in my ability to budget and project future expenses, but I'm not sure if I'm ready to wager an additional monthly payment and $10,000 of debt on my ability to do this.  It might be better if I waited a couple of months, in the sense that we'd know better how much our energy bills fluctuate with the summer time, etc.  
2. We Just Bought a House, Part Deux: Also, I'm kind of worried about how it would look to others if, after having just bought a house at my age, I bought a new car with a luxury label on it a month later.  The neighborhood we live in is nice, but it's working-class for sure, and there are definitely people on the block with fixed incomes.  I like to get along with the neighbors, and first impressions count for a great deal, and I feel like the new kids on the block already have a strike against them in the first place.  I'd rather not seem a douchebag (at least until we've had more time to get settled).
3. I'm Kind of Anti-Debt: I have some small student loans, which are no big deal, but we have a mortgage now, which kind of is a big deal, and a car loan on top of that would be another layer of consumer debt that I don't care to have.  Some people don't mind carrying lots of debt, but to me it's an albatross around my neck and I feel like I have to pay it off as quickly as possible.  This is probably good for me in the long run (it certainly keeps my credit score high), but it makes decisions like this one excruciating because I know the pleasure of driving is going to be countered by the annoyance of making another monthly payment for a while.
4. Fears of Lifestyle Inflation: Simply put, if I buy this car and when the time comes to buy a new car in 2015 or something, what if our financial situation is worse than it is now?  Am I condemning myself to a lifetime of needing a nice car, and feeling inadequate if I have to go back to driving a Honda?  That would be really sad (and it would make me a very disgusting person).
5. It's Just a Car, Man: The argument here is that a car is a means of getting from Point A to Point B, and as a mode of transportation there's no reason for it to be a luxury car.  This is completely rational (and functionally incorrect) because that's not what a car is to most people - otherwise, everyone would be driving 15-year-old Civics (because those cars literally never break down).  We have emotional attachments to our cars, and many people can ground a memory based on what car they were driving at that time in their life.  So I disagree with this argument, but I'm listing it here just because I know that some do agree with it.

****************************************

So there you have it.  I'm not sure there is a correct answer to this, and I'm absolutely sure there are other arguments here that I've missed entirely.  I'm seriously wrestling with the decision (as you can tell, and even though I've spoken with a number of people about it, and most think that I should jump on the purchase).  Once I decide, people will know...

The Hopeless Homeowner Series, Chapter 2: Adventures in Modern Landscaping

This is the second installment of a series of posts regarding our misadventures in owning a home.  We recently bought a home in an active adult community (well, not really, but let's just say we're the spring chickens on the block by a decent decade and a half), and we have a great deal more space to live in now.  Proportional to the increased living space is the increased complexity and nuance of owning a home, as well as all the stuff you have to buy and all of things that go wrong in the process.  The stories are as follows...

Whether they are aware of this or not, adults exist somewhere on a continuum of willingness to endure chores typically considered to be "workmanlike".  (To me, "workmanlike" tasks involve a serious amount of dirt, fumbling around with tools, sweat, and/or muscular ability.  I would use the term "blue-collar" instead, but I think the term is inaccurate and outdated in a time and place where sanitation employees routinely earn six-figure incomes.)

There are those people who, through some combination of engineering inclination, stick-to-it-ive-ness, fearlessness, love of the outdoors, and creativity, learn to do everything on their own and truly become handy.  These are the folks that you call when you can't figure out how something works, you've already spent an hour or two Googling the problem, and you've found the problem to be so strange that you need someone whom you know has encountered - and solved - it before.  They'll remember the fix, even if it was an isolated incident that happened ten years ago, and they'll walk you through it in about five minutes.  (Sometimes they'll be so proud of themselves for remembering the fix that they'll thank you for prompting the recall, but that's a completely different story altogether...)

On the other end of the continuum are those who are so inexperienced (or so scared) of simple household maintenance chores that they barely attempt to try them, instead deciding to outsource them to other people.  I am scared to death of falling into this category, because it's an easy way to bleed cash and it announces to the entire world that I am lazy (or at worst, a classist), and it violates my fundamental moral code of self-sufficiency.

I'm so inexperienced at this type of stuff that, while I know where I'd like to be, I have no clue where I currently exist on this continuum.  So far, I've managed not to call a professional for all but the obvious tasks (e.g., replacing a water heater, which requires welding equipment and such acumen that the otherwise-handy people whom I typically call for advice always call professionals to install for them).  But on the other hand, I routinely take several days - and several attempts - to finish even the simplest installation projects, which is strange because I am typically quite the impatient individual.

But I've found that sleeping on a difficult step to fixing something works for me - I approach it again with a new perspective, and I'm well-rested and in a different (if not better) mood at the time, and more often than not the damned problem gets fixed the second time around.  Which is good when you consider the lawnmower debacle...


************************************
For a number of reasons, which include but are not limited to my own laziness, the willingness of others to complete the task, and a life course that took me from college to five years of shuffling between apartments in different parts of the country, I had never managed to mow any lawn between 1997 and 2011.

When we moved into the house last month (and before the move, and after the move), I was incredibly worried about having to mow the lawn again.  The gap in completing a task that is ingrained in the mind of any warmblooded American male as an incredibly warmblooded American male-type thing to do, to be frank, made me feel pretty damned impotent - it was like because I had gone so long without doing the task, that some window of grasping how to mow the lawn had passed and I would never be able to learn for the rest of my life.

(NOTE: I use the word "impotent" metaphorically, but the metaphor I think is clear - many men need to know they can perform as men, and you can fill in the task with whatever you're thinking of, but that's a fact.  There's a reason that Viagra commercials involve getting things done - an act is an act, whether it's sexual or not, and while sometimes a cigar is a cigar, most of the time a rowboat is not a rowboat.)

(A SECOND NOTE: I concede that the idea of there being a developmental period where it's easiest to learn how to mow the lawn is fucking stupid.  But every dude that's in my position would also concede that they wish they'd learned these tasks as a child, because then they would always remember how to do these things.  Blaming the parents, as always, is the easiest way out.)

The key to mowing the lawn for the first time was obtaining a considerable amount of help.  (Getting this help led to a far more positive outcome than the night before, when I tried to add fuel to the mower by myself.  The details are irrelevant here, but suffice it to say the process didn't work, I got pretty angry at the fuel tank, and ended up breaking a fairly innocent pair of sunglasses against the wall of the garage.)  Thankfully, my fiancee's dad worked with me for fifteen minutes to figure out how to add fuel to the mower for the first time, and watched me for another twenty as I remembered how to "draw lines" across the backyard, and reminded me that the grass bag needs emptying two or three times during the process.

This is not an isolated incident.  I'm speechless at the countless acts of kindness and patience that other people have lent us over the past month or so.  I'm a quick student but not a particularly patient one, so I don't know what I'd be able to accomplish without the help of more seasoned homeowners.  I have no way to repay my gratitude.  Anyway...

I certainly would recommend a Honda self-propelled lawnmower to anyone who is new to the art of mowing.  It doesn't really matter which Honda, although I suggest you pick the one that best fits the relative size of your yard (our land is about a third of an acre; we bought the $500 model which works just fine).  The instruction manual is eminently readable, actual operation is so easy that even a dolt like me got the hang of it relatively quickly, and it's a Honda so it's reliable and fuel-efficient.  However, filling a lawn mower with fuel must require a Ph.D. or something, because it took me forever to figure out how to get gas to come out of the fuel tank.

Back in 1997 (why, back in my day!), you took a funnel, stuck it into the mower's fuel tank, and poured gasoline from your rusted metal tank into the mower that way.  These days, I guess to make fuel tanks safer and also more obnoxious, the plastic tanks have a plastic nozzle that you have to prime (think Shake Weight). After you're done making obscene sexual gestures, you then insert it into (think of whatever you want) the mower's fuel tank, so that air is able to escape the plastic tank while the lawn mower is being fueled.  I think - maybe - I have the hang of this now, but I recommend having someone on hand who knows what they're doing while gassing your new Honda lawnmower for the first time.  It'll save you time and effort, and quite possibly, a new pair of cheap sunglasses.

(This will be what our backyard will look like by mid-June.  Just keep repeating this as a mantra...)