Why did you buy your car? Did you buy it because you needed a daily driver or a familiar hauler? Have you finally sported something fun? Have you made a compromise on something that fits a new lifestyle change? Or did you just buy it to watch it until you resell it someday for more money?
This weekend, PistonHeads tweeted a screenshot of hers forum where someone has written about his fear of adding too many miles to his cars because he is worried about what will happen when, someday in the future, he tries to sell those cars and apparently someone has a mileage problem.
“I own a Porsche that I absolutely love, but I am always aware of its mileage fearing that one day it will be worth nothing, unable to be sold to anyone for anything decent,” the user complained in the post.
Now, I know it could be revolutionary, but I just have to say one thing: Drive your damn cars.
Seriously. Get behind the wheel, start the vehicle and drive it. Drive it literally anywhere. To the story of the grocery store. On that trip you put off for work. Hell, drive aimlessly until you find a nice little town you’ve never heard of before just because you were too afraid to drive your car somewhere for no purpose. I do not care. Alone unit.
I will make exceptions for collectibles. If you’ve just dropped a handsome multimillionaire in a racing used Bugatti driven by René Dreyfus, you probably don’t want to drive it. I see. If you’ve bought something old and fussy, maybe you’ll do it easier behind the wheel than if you were driving a Honda Civic.
But the whole concept of holding back driving your machine because of what some future owner might think it drives me crazy. Maybe it’s just because I grew up in a fairly low class, where the cars we bought were legitimate necessities that would literally die under our ownership because we bought them and we’re gonna use them damn, but what kind of rich is bullshit this concept of taking it. comfortable with your own vehicle on behalf of someone else?
If you’ve bought a car you love to drive, why hold back so that someday some jamoke can buy your car on a whim and forget about it? Why cling to the hope of making money someday on a low-mileage vehicle if you’re depriving yourself now? If you want to invest your money in something that will pay dividends in the future, take the stock market. So get out there and drive your damn car.
When I bought my Mazda2, it was with the intention of driving that thing until it literally took its last breath. I made it a personal challenge to see how many miles I can cram into his odometer before it becomes a detriment to society. And then I’ll strip it of all its unnecessary bits and turn it into a dune buggy to drive around the yard.
When I bought my Suburban, I immediately took it on a 6,000-mile road trip. I bought it with that explicit intention. I bought it so that someday, in the near future, I can drive it from Texas to Canada and go back and get my husband’s Ford Fairmont and tow it home. And when we get the Fairmont here, do you know what we’re going to do? We will guide it. Because we love it. Because that’s why my husband bought it.
The miles you put on your car don’t matter unless you’ve somehow managed to preserve it with a ridiculously small amount of miles on the odometer. If you really want to sell your car later to make a profit, take good care of it and meticulously keep a service log.
Life is too damn short to worry about how much money you will make at an undisclosed time in the future. If you have a car you love, go out and drive it, and damn everyone in the world who has made you think your car is only valuable if it is valuable to someone else.