Manual transmission... (or, a girl and her car, and the power of choice)

I always fancied myself a good driver, and at one point even considered doing driver training at a local race track. While I didn't pursue the training, I've had a thing for driving since I was a kid - I loved my Matchbox cars and my Tonka truck at least as much as I loved Barbie dolls. I'd make roads for these wee little hot rods anywhere I could, and later, I'd ride my two-wheeler up and down the block, into neighboring driveways, imagining my bike was a car. I'd sit behind the wheel of my mom's old Ford and pretend to drive long before I got my learner's permit. I loved the feeling of navigating windy roads - even when the roads were only in my mind.

When it comes to the real thing, my most basic requirement, after a body and four wheels, is a manual transmission. I've been driving a stick shift since I bought my first five-speed about 25 years ago - a car I didn't know how to drive when I bought it and had to have someone drive home for me. But there was no way I was buying an automatic. Why? Good damn question. Something about the road beneath my wheels, the illusion of control.

Another essential was just two doors. No four-door sedan for me, no sir. Another good "why" question. I think having just two doors plays to a self image of myself as a hip, take charge driver of a sporty little convertible without the impracticality. (Even if whatever car I drive in no way resembles a sports car.)

I've pondered getting a new-to-me car for a few years now. But giving up my little 1989 Toyota Corolla is hard. Perhaps ridiculous, but it's been part of my identity my entire time back in Seattle.

However, when I bought it in 1998, I thought I'd keep it a year, no more. It wasn't ideal, but my previous car - a newer Corolla - was totaled by a hit-and-run driver, I didn't have a job, was moving back to the states, and the Canadian dollar was at an all time low. I got paid out by my B.C. insurance company in those dwindling Canadian dollars so I didn't have much to work with.

But now, 14 years later, it's been an awesome little car. My 'green' side regularly tells me that it's more eco-friendly to keep an old car than to get something new after all the monetary and environmental costs of manufacturing a new one. And if I were to buy one, what would I get? Should I buy electric, diesel, or a little econo model?

My physical response to those questions was immediate anxiety followed by paralysis. Sure, the Corolla burns a bit more oil now, but it consistently passes emissions tests, the gas mileage is decent, I can take it almost anywhere, and it's still fun to drive. Financially, I haven't missed having a car payment, insurance is cheap, and car tabs are next to nothing. So I take it in for regular quarterly maintenance, and give thanks every day that it's still going at 260,000+ miles. Until now.

Well, the car is still going, but I have retired my use of it. In the midst of my emotionally trying summer, I bought a brand new car. A 2013. Really? Yes, really. The afterglow is a bit more afterpale, as I'm continually second guessing myself. I hate to admit it, but I have on many occasions bought a piece at Nordstrom, brought it home, thought about it a while, then returned it (tags on, of course. I'm not one of those people!). Example: When searching for a pair of black boots one year, I must have brought home over the course of several months more than a dozen pairs from almost as many shoe stores - finally settling on a pair post-season with the reward for my efforts a 70% discounted price. Can't do that with a car...

The new six-speed, two-door coupe is a Hyundai Elantra - the first Elantra with just two doors. Research tells me there's not much of a market for two-door cars these days - just 22,000 Scion tCs were sold in the US in 2011 (a car I'd considered). But still the Elantra holds its value (despite the initial loss driving off the lot), it gets exceptional gas mileage, and the warranty is second to none.

Despite a fair price, it is a big expense, and it's a new monthly payment at an inconvenient time. The body is bigger than I'm used to, I can't quite get my seat oriented right, and it's not at all sports car like. I'm told it looks a bit cat like. Because it's actually a fraction of an inch longer than a four-door, it's kind of a sedan in disguise.

So I'm conflicted - albeit a waste of energy given that car dealers don't subscribe to the Nordstrom return policy. Here's the mind bending at its best:

• My conservative side wishes I'd looked around more and taken more time with my decision, maybe found something less expensive, and I'm completely befuddled by brand new.
• Various family voices pay a visit and offer their unsolicited opinion about taking on a car loan. But at 1.99% interest, really? If I'd paid cash, there would be no point in getting something different. While spending a lot on a car goes against my grain, this is reasonable. And I currently have the resources and credit rating to do this.
• My professional side says, "Why not? Your colleagues have much newer cars, and most of them are pretty nice. You need to present yourself professionally."
• My social justice side kicks in with some guilt, and I picture the guys standing under the Ballard Bridge with requests for help. In my Toyota, I was inconspicuous and presumably not much better off than they were.
• The environmental side is disgusted by the off-gassing of all the interior fabric and plastics (but happy about the gas mileage).
• Then there's my rebellious, ego-centric side that says, "but wait, didn't you want a Genesis, an Audi, or a sweet little cabriolet?" Not a lot of cache with a Hyundai, but then, the Hyundai was a lot more affordable - both now, and later (when it's time for maintenance or repairs).
• The wanna-be adventurer reminds me the purchase price would cover a lot of plane tickets, or add up to a lot of boat dollars. (But hey - it does hold its value!)
• Then there's the proverbial self doubting side that whispers, "Do you really think you deserve a new car?" Actually, yes. Maybe for the first time, I don't question what I deserve. I recognize that I have many choices and I make pretty sound ones most of the time.

(An aside: a lesson in choice came from the Landmark Forum ages ago. Choose - chocolate or vanilla. Doesn't matter which, just choose. But of course we all felt compelled to rationalize our choice. When no rationale was requested or needed. The only thing that matters is making a choice. A similar lesson came while working at an ad agency - make a decision, any decision, as long as you make one. Not making a choice is also a choice.)

Hyundai was a good choice. I know this. They've done some great work with styling and quality improvements over the last several years. And did I mention the gas mileage and the warranty?

In the month I've had it, I've become surprisingly attached to a couple of features I never knew I needed: heated seats, hands-free calling and a USB port (I can plug in my Zune!). It has A/C (my Toyota's AC stopped working last year), which was handy since we finally hit 90+ degrees - the first time in more than two years (imagine, two summers never passing the 90 degree mark - but I digress...). Cruise control I can take or leave (detracts from the driving experience), and satellite radio is fun for now (free trial) but unnecessary as I'm quite happy with NPR, our local progressive talk radio, and a few local music stations. A few features I've never had that I could probably live without are electric windows and remote locking, although they're convenient.

What I'm really happy about: all the interior and exterior lights work when they're supposed to, there's a special place for my sunglasses and a lighted vanity mirror in the driver's side visor, my seatbelt retracts as it should, and my gas gauge not only works, but I get a reading of my average mileage per tank and how much farther I can go with what's left based on my average use.

So, while I'm still second guessing myself, it wasn't a bad idea and how lucky am I to be able to drive something brand new? It's safe, it's economical, it's pretty to look at, and I can fit real people in it. Despite my kvetching, I can even afford it.

Gratitude. That's where it's at, and that's what I have to focus on. This fall and winter, when the rain comes back en force, I will be very very happy with this decision. So why not have a new car? It's a pretty fortunate place to be.

Three deep breaths...

When I was a kid, my grandfather would stand at the top of the back stairs every morning, look out at the Olympic Mountains, and take three deep breaths. He insisted this was essential for good health. Perhaps it's the deep breathing that let him live to 70, despite being a lifelong smoker. I don't really remember the smoking, but I do remember that back porch ritual. 

Overlooking Puget Sound and
the Olympic Mountains from
Sunset Hill Park.

Breathing is one of those things we shouldn't have to think about. Isn't it about the most natural thing we do? Without oxygen, we'd cease to exist.



Getting enough air isn't easy for all of us. I attempt to breeze through my life as a recovering Type A, but there seems to be a residual pattern of frequent shallow breathing. In addition to pre-behavioral adjustment, I attribute this breathing pattern in large part to perpetual allergies, low-grade, persistent anxiety, and chronic lack of sleep (at least, I hope that's all it is). While I've likely had more than my fair share of stress over the years, relatively speaking, my life is pretty manageable right now. Perhaps breathing badly is learned? Or am I more stressed out than I realize? To get effective breath much of the time, I have to breathe consciously. In through the nose, into the guts, hold, exhale.  

That said, I was reminded of the dangers of stress on our health when Joe Piscatella came to talk with us at work earlier this week. He had heart disease at age 32 and doctors didn't expect him to live past 40. That was 35 years ago. He changed his life: both his diet and exercise routine, and he learned to manage his stress. His book, Don't Eat Your Heart Out, had a significant impact on my diet and attitude when I read it in the mid-80s. He's since written many more and speaks internationally about the affect lifestyle has on our health over genetics. Something I've been spouting since... well, maybe since I read his book.

I have to remember to breathe. Mr. Piscatella offered up a useful exercise that takes my usual breathe in/breathe out attempts a little further. In addition to turning off the television nightly news - should anyone really still watch it - he suggests the following:

Take a deep breathe in through your nose letting your belly expand outward. Hold and pull your abdominal muscles in. Exhale through your mouth over five beats. Repeat.

Trust me - this is much easier than bending over and putting your head between your knees, which I've found myself doing on occasion. Actual "breathwork" has always sounded a little too new agey for me, but I think I may look into it and see what that kind of practice has to offer. Meditation has always been difficult, but if I have a focus like very specific breathing, maybe that'll help.


UPDATE (8/28/12): My naturopath Eva tells me I breathe through my mouth which impacts the quality and quantity of air I take in. It's like miniscule, ongoing hyperventilation, and I also breathe in unfiltered particles and who knows what which leaves me vulnerable to viruses, infections, etc. Not to mention that I just don't get good breaths. So I do need to consciously focus on my breathing; Eva even suggested that if I need to, I could tape my mouth shut. If I'm breathing so hard I can't breathe through my nose, I'm doing too much. Oh - and use the neti pot. Joy.