The best of rides, the worst of rides

That top picture is the trusty minivan parked in my reserved spot for the very last time.

Below is a 1959 Impala who pulled into a garage just ahead of me recently. It was beautiful, but as I watched it jounce over the speed bumps I had a chance to reflect on what I really value in a car. Like, sure, if I were made of money I would let my horizons widen out a bit. But having to limit myself to one? Boringly, the minivan wins every time.

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