Why My Parents Drove a (Really) Old Car


When I was growing up, my mom drove a gray Oldsmobile Omega. By the time I was old enough to notice such things, it was an old car — much older, and clearly less luxurious, than those most of my friends rode to school in. When the plastic knob broke off the end of the shifter, it was replaced with a huge wooden one. When we hit a bump in the road, the radio hissed with loud static. Near the bitter end, duct tape held up the driver-side window. I found it all pretty embarrassing. But my thoughts on that have taken a turn recently. Read about it in my new blog post on WiseBread: http://www.wisebread.com/drive-the-old-car-or-buy-a-new-car


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