God is my Father, and He told me not to covet. So I usually don’t. But if I did, at the top of the list would be a Cadillac. Any Caddy would do, but yeah, why not an Escalade? “Razor-sharp. – Eye-candy. – Bling. – One seriously cool looking SUV.” With a 3-row brain and front/side airbags. If I were driving that thing, people would notice me. They would want to be me! (Those that don’t already, LOL)
My grandpa always had BMW’s. They’re awesome. But Mom had Cadillacs, and I dig ‘em. I Dig Big. I dig American. Heck, I am a Big American.
We actually started buying Japanese cars many years ago, having been burned with a lemon or two made in the USA. (By the way, not to cause panic, but somebody suggested we get any upcoming import repairs sooner than later, since Japanese parts might be hard to get since the tsunami.)
If money were really no object, I’d have a couple of cars: the Cadillac, a little pick-up, and, for sex appeal a vintage Chevelle. Metal-flake blue, racing stripes optional. The louder the better. Grrroowwwl.
A relative of mine was a car salesman. So I’ve driven a Camaro, a 280-Z, a Grand Am, a Firebird, an Impala, an MG, even a souped-up Gremlin—and everything in-between. But for my money (figuratively speaking), nothing beat Mom’s Cadillacs. Solid comfort. And you can go ten miles for only four bucks.
So yeah, the mileage. Thus for now I have my little import—and I’m quite content. It gets me where I’m going. But some day, I’m just sayin’, maybe Momma could ride in a little bling. With quad speakers, leather interior, and a GPS.