Category: Cars

The Poverty Tires

Cars

My car is old and slowly wearing out. I do a little maintenance now and then, but I can’t afford any big repairs or overhauls. Not gonna rebuild the engine or transmission, not gonna repaint it, not gonna beef up the suspension. I’m just driving it until I can afford something better.

There’s a mindset into which I fall. It’s a reaction to stress and not having enough safety or resources. A poverty mindset. I accept that this is all I can afford, and then I justify and rationalize that this is the only option. For some reason this mindset is easier to get into with regard to a car, although I know I’ve felt this way about my living spaces, as well. Adequate housing is a human right but if I’m depressed, the level of adequate for me and me alone gets lower and lower, y’know?

I know I’ve written about this before, but another reminder has come up, and again, it’s about my car. Specifically the tires.

When I first got the car, the tires were already a bit worn, and I was making less than poverty wages, so I put zero money into replacing them. I’d just top up the air once in a while, and as the tires wore further, I’d have to top them up more and more.

Until one day, one of the tires failed in an interesting but terrifying way: the pressure caused a big bubble to pop out, but the tire itself didn’t leak. It just bulged. As you can imagine, trying to drive that way caused the steering wheel to shake, and a tremendous noise. I was already stressed about my job at the time, which required a long commute. I feared the worst, as I often do, and thought that the suspension was damaged somehow.

A friend helped me out by correctly diagnosing the issue, and paying for four replacement tires, a cost of about $200 for OK-ish used tires. That was a cost I didn’t think I could afford, but I was wrong. I definitely couldn’t have afforded replacing the whole car, or the costs of an accident involving another car… or another person. I did have insurance but it was the bare legal minimum. I was lucky in not having anything worse happen.

From that point on, I did pay more attention to my tires. I kept them full. And I replaced them after normal wear, a year later. I had to use a credit card and pay it off over time, but I did it because I wanted to avoid that horrible out-of-control feeling that my car might kill me if I neglected it.

That next set of tires wore normally for a while, until the steering started to get a little wobbly and pull to the left, and then it started making noise again, and this time, I took it to a mechanic. The mechanic said I just needed to rotate the tires, which for the non-car person means to swap them around, left to right, basically (different cars have different rotation patterns.)

I drove them like that for a while, saving up for another new pair, and this time, I bought new tires from a tire company that offers a 10 year warranty. I did not buy the warrnaty. I didn’t think it was worth it. New tires was enough for my peace of mind. But at some point, I noticed one of the tires, the driver’s side front, had a slow leak.

Remember that poverty mindset I mentioned? I nursed that nagging slow leak for months, topping up the tire with a cheap air compressor I had, because I was again underemployed and afraid of spending money. I didn’t think I could afford to replace them.

And then the cheap air compressor broke. I didn’t have the means to bandage this problem anymore. I found the source of the slow leak: a nail stuck in the tread. That convinced me to bring the car back to the tire shop, where, to my amazement, they replaced the tire and it’s mate on the other side for a nominal fee.

The sales person explained that I could add on the warranty to cover all four tires for cheap; $10 per tire. They would then replace any tire for any flat or road damage for the next 10 years. It was finally worth it to me, after years of giving myself stress by trying to nurse along on the cheapest option.

That was a few months ago. I’ve been hypervigilant about tire pressure, since my cheap air compressor was broken and I was once again unemployed. Last night, though, after getting a good payday, I bought a new air compressor, and because it was a Prime Day special, got it overnight.

Just went out to the car to check the pressure and top up all the tires. I assumed after months of driving they’d be dangerously low. This is the point where my poverty mindset had fucked me up.

The tires were low but not dangerous. And I had the tool I needed to fix it, by spending a little money. I can afford basic maintence. I don’t have to live with broken and failing things.

Might be time to buy a newer car, Brian.

Car parameters

Cars

Now that I created the category, might as well use it, right?

I did a first pass on cars in my price range that might not be terrible. Based on my projected income I am looking at used cars, of course. I want something that is compact or mid-sized. Not a fan of SUVs because they’re huge, don’t want a sub-compact because they’re too small on long trips. Oh, right, I like road trips when I have the mental energy, money, and a car that’s safe to drive. Hatchbacks are fine but I lean toward sedans or coupes.

Price wise, I had no idea what a decent but cheap used car would go for. So I poked around on Kelly Blue Book and Edmunds to see what price range cars that fit the above category and are ~10 years old or newer, and it looks like that price range goes from $10,000 to $15,000. If I have to get a car loan, at my terrible credit rating, that works out to a monthly payment of $200 to $300 for a 48 month loan.

I would love to be able to estimate what my insurance payment would be but that doesn’t seem to be a thing. Lots of sites will walk you through the thousand-and-one questions to come up with a very specific quote for a specific car specifically for me but I just want a broad guestimate and don’t want to track down fuckin’ VINs for cars (and sign up for email alerts nagging me to buy things, holy crap) just so they can ballpark me. If anyone knows of any simple car insurance calculators I’d love it!

Things that would be a nice-to-have but not dealbreakers would include CarPlay. I wouldn’t call myself an Apple fan any more; corporations are doing so much damage in the world, but I still do need a phone, and I’m used to Apple phones as far as features go, so that’s what I buy. And being able to get the interface and apps I’m used to in the car would be super handy. Right now, in my ancient Honda, I have a very cheap head unit that my phone can Bluetooth to; it plays music and podcasts and lets me make and take phone calls hands-free if I need to (please don’t call me at all but especially in the car, thanks).

Sunroofs are nice, I suppose. When there’s sun out. Which does happen more and more often as I get older.

Picture of an apartment parking lot. In the close foreground, on the right hand side, a pale metallic blue Accord, an old one, is parked and covered in a layer of snow. Other cars in the lot are also covered in snow. There are some tire tracks leading out of the parking lot but none for the Honda Accord. It's just parked there, not going anywhere on its bald tires.
My car doesn’t like driving in the snow.

All wheel drive would be great because, y’know, weather extremes are happening more and more thanks to corporations’ damage to the world; feeling more secure on snow and ice would be keen, really. Hybrids look like they could save me money as the gas companies continue their intransigence and looting by squeezing every possible penny of profit while also damaging the world, but hybrids to me are a question mark as far as maintenance costs, so while I might include them in my shopping, they require extra research and pre-purchase investigation.

Colors aren’t a big deal, and with used cars you get what you get, but if I have a choice I’d like a nice, non-metallic primary color. A good green or blue would be awesome. Black is also high on my list. Interior wise I’d prefer a black or gray interior, something neutral. Not a fan of tan, at all.

I want a car that’s easy and cheap to maintain, and has a decent track record of safety. That points toward larger makes and popular models; having more parts available means lower costs of repair. No bespoke boutique brands, alas.

From these broad strokes, I’ll start drafting up a list of years, makes, and models. It’s a good starting point!

Thinking about planning to examine cars

Cars

For the longest time, I did not own a car. I didn’t own a car for more than two decades. I used public transit or made use of short-term car rental services like ZipCar, or relied on friends and family to pick me up, or I rode my bicycle for short trips. It was fine, really; when I was employed, I could bus to my office, and I could check out a motor pool car if I needed to drive for work. And when I wasn’t working… where did I need to go, really? I could still use the other options, I just did them less often, because I had no money.

But in July 2016, however, I got a decent-ish job working at a call center for a major US bank. The call center was over 18 miles by surface streets, and since my schedule (after training) was a very early shift, public transit did not have any option to get me to the call center on time. I needed a car.

My cousin was looking to upgrade to a newer car, and I bought her used 1996 Honda Accord for cheap. It ran, almost everything on it worked, and it got me to work on time, and that’s all I cared about. I’ve tried to keep up the basic maintenance on it, and it’s served me well, with only minor hiccups here and there.

I have insurance, the car is legally registered, it uses a moderate amount of gasoline, and it only leaks a little oil. I’ve driven it to the beach and back several times. When a prospective employer asks if I have reliable transportation, I am comfortable saying yes. As long as I keep the fluids topped up, I often joke, it will probably outlast me.

For all of those reasons, I did not pay any attention to cars as a topic. I paid no attention to car makes and models, or trends in cars, or prices for new or used cars. I gave zero thought to what kinds of cars I liked or might buy, assuming I had money to buy a car, which I nearly always did not.

My last several jobs were either contract work, with expiration dates, or positions I took out of desperation, keeping a hope of finding something better. I was unable to save up enough money for a down payment and never felt secure enough to take out even a short car loan. That situation has shifted, though. I like my new job, and I can dream a little that maybe I’ll still be there for the foreseeable future. I can think about the possibility of planning to examine the options of perhaps getting rid of the ancient Honda… and replacing it with something newer.

Last night I started figuring out some things. What is a decent price range for a reliable car for me? How will it impact my budget? What will gas, insurance, and maintenance cost? How long will it take to save up a down payment, and is it worth it trading in the Accord? What is my credit score and how does that affect the interest rate and how much money will my credit union loan me? Should I buy a hybrid vs a gasoline car?

I started a spreadsheet to start tracking some of this stuff, because of course I did. I’ve got a first draft of what years, makes, and models interest me, just to get a feeling of what’s out there. It’s a start. Stay tuned for posts where I share some of my research and ask you, my readers, for your advice. Thanks in advance!

Righty, tighty; lefty, loosey

Cars

My butt was on the ground and my hands were inside the car door, from which I had removed the interior panel. The wiring harness for the windows, door lock, mirror controls and door light snaked across the painted metal, hanging down like vines growing across a wall. My left hand held the bottom of the window glass, keeping it from sliding down from its raised position; through the access hole in the door designed by clever engineers for exactly this purpose, my right hand held the nut that I was trying to screw into the window regulator to hold the window more permanently in place. Uh-oh. I needed a third hand.

“Hey, dad,” I said, “can you get me the 10 mm socket? And the extender-thingie?”

“Sure,” dad said from behind me. I turned my head and watched as he poked through the toolbox, which was sitting on the rear passenger seat, that door also open. Otherwise my entire field of view was this unassembled door.

Four days earlier, after driving dad over to my nephew’s house to watch their cat while my nephew and his wife went camping, my inside car door handle had stopped working. I had hurriedly and in frustration given maybe a bit too much force to the switch to roll the driver’s side window down so I could exit. After chatting with dad and my nephew, I’d gotten back in the car and found that the window switch had broken, too.

Hazards of driving an old car. My car was new in 1996 but increasingly less so every year after that. I’m the third owner, and while it continues to run with just minor maintenance – I joke that as long as I keep the fluids topped up, it’ll outlast me – some things are just worn and fragile. In fact, this is the second time the window switch has broken. It’s a cheap part, but annoying to replace.

Behind me I heard dad click the socket onto the extension-thingie. “Here, son,” he handed it down to me. I asked him to hold the window in place, then used both hands to put the socket on the bolt head, and turn it.

“Righty, tighty; lefty, loosey,” dad said, ironically.

I chuckled. “I know! I learned that from you, at least.”

I’d learned a lot from dad, including many lessons that seemed to be simple rules for living under his roof growing up, but turned out to be cleverly disguised as life lessons. When I was a kid, our roles would be reversed from what I was doing now. He’d be the one with his head and hands on thing he was fixing; I’d be the one who had to find and bring the right tool, the tool he’d forgotten he’d needed right then and there. That lesson was “know your tools” and I always thought it was like magic how he could look at a bolt and know, somehow, that it was a 12 mm, or a 3/8″, depending on the circumstances and the part.

“I don’t care if you borrow my tools,” he told me, “as long as you put them back where you found them.” Again, that’s something specific for him; he always tried to keep his toolbox organized, the garage neat and tidy; he’d clean up spilled oil, polish his Craftsman wrenches before sorting them into their proper places. But that’s also a lesson about life. It’s OK to share, but make sure you return what you’ve borrowed.

He taught me how to maintain a car, what the parts of the car did, and backed it up with the lesson “Don’t just be a parts-swapper; fix the problem.” He had unkind words for engineers who designed things without any care for how the things would be used; he dismissed them as idealist eggheads, generally speaking. Dad was always a blue-collar working-class guy. He got dirt under his fingernails, he barked his knuckles trying to turn a wrench in tight spaces. And even though I was distracted, angsty, and dealing with a brain that I would not learn until much much later operated in non-standard ways, I did learn from him.

Happy Father’s Day, dad. I would not be the person I am today without your guidance and advice. Love your guts.