Automotion

I walked past a Jeep dealership this morning and noticed a sticker on the windshield of a new Wrangler: $3,500. Who knew you could get a Jeep that cheap, thought I. No kidding.

Until, of course, I looked more closely and realized that was the cost of the gasoline. Per year. Per freaking year. Whoa.

My first car was a tricked-out 1963 VW beetle. I bought it with every available option (that would be a sunroof, whitewall tires, an AM radio and a little package shelf under the dash on the passenger’s side) for two grand. Two thousand dollars. And I took out a three-year loan.

Should have bought a dozen.