Running on Empty

Now we are all familiar with the idea that we are somehow what we drive.

The intention of this blog is to have some fun with that and maybe learn a thing or two, well about cars, mostly.

I believed that a person’s choice of a car reveals as much about them as the contents of their iPod, or say their browser history they neglected to clear.

However, lately I am beginning to think that this is too broad of an assumption.

Maybe it’s not the make and model that defines the man.

I am leaving women out of this for the moment.

Maybe it is the condition of his car.

Take my friend Tom.

Tom is a good guy, smart business man, and our society at large would consider him relatively successful, even after giving consideration to the present state of the economy.

Tom drives a 2009 BMW Series-3. Not a bad car. Certainly the right car for the man based on previous assumptions.

Earlier in the year Tom gave me a lift from the City back to the Island after a day of work.

I could not help but notice that the dashboard indicated two rear light bulbs were out while we were crawling along in traffic on the Expressway.

“Looks like you have a couple of bulbs out,” I said and helpfully pointed to the dashboard.

Tom nodded and said “I know,” and continued to talk about the market, ETFs, options, and the like.

I had to borrow Tom’s car a couple of weeks ago. I could not help but notice that the dashboard indicated the two rear light bulbs were still out.

I was shocked that this wolf of Wall Street, a man that uses his car every day, had still neglected to have the two rear light bulbs fixed.

He clearly had not thought to service his car even after it was screaming for his attention. 

What else had he neglected?

Well, the center rear brake light was out.

How can this man approach business in a positive frame of mind when the minutest testimony to his failure as a human is illuminated before his eyes every time he puts his foot on the brake pedal? How can his wife love him?

There was a spent coffee-cup in the holder. The rear seat had an empty Subway sandwich bag on its own sitting there forlornly. Napkins were trying to force their way out of the glove box.

This car was a mess!

These things matter to me. Would you bristle if you saw a farmer mistreating his mule? That is what it means to me.

I now have my doubts about Tom, but his lease is almost up, and he will soon be getting a new car.

Just like Wall Street.

Did someone say QE3?