August 14, 2003

More than three years ago, while living in Manhattan, I reluctantly sold my beloved second car, an Infiniti J30. I decided it wasn’t worth the hassle, or the expense of a monthly parking space, and I really wasn’t using the car very much.

Oh, and to make things worse, but oh so typical, my then “partner” gave no thought whatsoever to picking up even the slightest share of any car-related expenses (i.e., the monthly payment, insurance, parking, gasoline, etc.). God, what a pig!

Fortunately, a car isn’t really necessary for someone like myself living in Center City Philadelphia. I’m happy without one. I really am. They’re nothing more than money pits anyway.

But -- And there’s always a but, isn’t there? -- the other day I saw a beautiful car parked on my street, and the old yearnings returned.

It was a Cadillac DeVille DTS. And the vehicle was in my preferred (actually, required) color scheme: black and black. Beautiful.

Now, I never figured myself for a Cadillac buyer, but I never really thought much about being 40 either.

Maybe it’s time.

To buy a Cadillac or to think about being 40. One or the other, if not both, I guess.


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