My father insisted. When my parents visited us in January, my father became determined to help us get a car. At the time, we were renting a car to get around the island.
Antigua is not a place where having a car or access to one is an option. You need reliable transportation. Taxis are not on every corner. The public transportation system is not as robust as we’ve experienced in other countries.
Living anywhere with dependable transportation is a luxury. You can come and go as you please. Grocery shopping is easy. In the event of an emergency, you can get where you need to go without a problem. Owning a car is a privilege, but it often comes with challenges.
The maintenance required for used cars is one of the setbacks of ownership. Repairs are expensive on an island where importing parts is mandatory. You have to get the oil changed. Verifying that the tires are in decent shape is a good idea. There is always something that needs a mechanic’s attention.
The 2002 Land Rover pictured in the headline is my family's vehicle. We purchased it with my father’s assistance in February, and we have taken it to four separate mechanics. Yes, you did the math right. Four mechanics add up to about one shop visit per month since February.
We’ve had the brake pads replaced, the oil changed, and an issue with the coolant semi-fixed.
The persistent coolant problem, an unknown transmission concern, a leaking head gasket, and whatever hidden problems lurk under the hood is why we are selling this car. We are grateful it has always started for us on the first, second, or third turn of the key. It has provided us with safe travels to every corner of the island on more than one occasion. We also believe it is time to bless another person with the joys of owning this car.
Have you ever heard that whisper that tells you it is time to move on to whatever comes next? My wife and I have ignored that whisper for the past six weeks. It is time to sell the car.
I am sure of my strengths, and fixing cars is not one of them. I don't feel less than other men, because I don’t know how to repair the vehicle. Disrupting traditional ideas about masculinity is part of the work I do and wrote about in my latest book (you should buy). I am happy to let it go, despite knowing someone can fix every issue.
A couple of weeks ago, I put the car up for sale on Facebook. We’ve had a couple of interested parties contact us. I’ve been honest with every potential buyer about the car’s unique personality, and none have offered to take this beautiful piece of metal home.
I am often tempted to lie and say the car runs like a 2020 Audi. That small lie might help us get rid of the truck. With three kids in swim class and summer camp, every dollar helps. I believe in karma and integrity, so I am stuck with being truthful.
I usually offer you advice near the end of my blog posts. This week I am asking for your help. What do you suggest that I do to sell this car? Please put your ethical solutions in the comments!