Plays Well With Others

The gift of wheels …

Okay, kiddos. It’s grandpa Greg again, coming at you in streaming, digitally-mastered static web format. If your parents are within eyeshot, you may want to have them get the hell away from the computer because what I’ve got to say could jeopardize your chances of ever getting that fabulous road machine you’ve been yearning for.

So, what’s my point. Well, one of the Friday Five question I answered today had to do with my first car and it got me to thinking about how hard and long I had to work to earn enough to buy that thing. Years of sweat to save up enough for a down payment and it was all worth it. I bought it and took care of it like it was my newborn. And while I was parking ten miles from the mall, just to keep it from being dinged, my friends were running their cars into mountainsides and street lights. Hmm, and why was that. No, not because they were lunatic drivers, but because their cars had been GIFTS to them from their parents, while mine was EARNED through sweat and hard labor.

And I wouldnt have changed a thing. Sure, it would have been nice to get my first car at 18 rather than at 23 and sure I would have loved to have been given a nice sports car without the monthly payments, but then I probably wouldnt have appreciated the car so much. And that’s exactly where my problem starts.

ALOT of parents must have their heads up their asses when they buy that shiny new sportscar for their kids and let them drive off with it. Very few kids actually appreciate the fact that their parents gave them the car and few more are responsible enough to actually take good care of it. There are always the exceptions, but for the most part, those first cars are going to be used as the party car, the hotrodding car and the makeout car. Ugh. And so I have to wonder WHY parents would give their kids a fancy new sports car at the age of 17 or 18?

Well, it sure isnt to teach them responsibility. It’s more likely to become parent of the year for about a week. It’s the old, “my parents never gave me a new car when I turned 18, so I’m going to spoil my little darling to death” … or the fact that you were a latchkey kid and now mommy and daddy feel bad about it, so they want to buy your adoration.

Now, dont get me wrong. I dont think that when a kid gets their license they should be allowed to have a car. Not at all. And I dont mind if parents help out. My personal policy has always been that I’d be perfectly happy to give my kid $5000 to use toward the purchase of car. And that’s it. They could use it to buy a used car or as a down payment towards a new car, but that’s all the money I’d give them. And I wouldnt just hand them a check. You’d better damn well believe that I’d be at that dealership to hand over the check to the salesperson.

My point is that kids that age should never have anything just handed to them. It doesnt teach them anything about the value of working for something, responsibility and decision-making. All it really teaches them is that mommy and daddy are schmucks.

I had to earn the money to buy my first car and then deal with the auto insurance on my own and all the other wonderful things that come with owning a car – gas, registration, tune-ups and yearly maintenance. And my kids will surely have to go through the same thing. They sure as hell won’t be driving around in a brand new Mustang. It’s more likely they’ll be driving around in a twenty year old Volvo with rust stains. They might not be happy about it, and it might not make me parent of the year, but they’ll appreciate their first brand new car that they paid for all on their own so much more.

2 Responses to 'The gift of wheels …'

  1. personal avatar
    Timmi | 12 January 2002

    And what’s the deal with Mustangs? It seems like everyone in my high school had a 68 or 69 Mustang. There must have been at least 20 in the parking lot every day.


  2. personal avatar
    Greg | 12 January 2002

    Yeah, the Mustang was the cool car to have back in the day… not too sure about these days. For some reason, not only were Mustangs big, but my high school parking lot was also filled with Mommy and Daddy’s old BMW’s and Mercedes. Ugh.


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