I’ll Always Have a Car Payment: Why It’s a Lie You Don’t Have to Buy

A few months ago, I was honored and flattered to be featured in my friend Heather’s Babble post about bloggers who are debt-free and how they did it.  I think it’s always inspiring and fascinating to hear how other people battled debt and found financial freedom.  Thanks to that post, I was approached by Jon White about participating in his Debt Free Living podcast.  Jon and I spent nearly an hour talking about how Mike and I came into our debt and how we went about paying off $100,000 in six years.  The podcast ended up being about 30 minutes long.  If you’d like to hear an in-depth account of how we became debt-free, have a listen.

One of the biggest factors in dropping our debt was a decision we made to never have another car payment again.  In the beginning, that meant selling our nice, shiny new car.  We’d purchased a brand new Honda Accord when the car Mike’s parents had leased for us was up.  That’s what you do, right?  We both loved that car … it was sharp, it had that new car smell, we seemed so grown-up.  Now, if you’d looked at our finances you’d realize that we weren’t making the most grown up decisions, no matter how we looked on the outside.  We realized that if we wanted to live our dream of owning a home, having a family with me as a stay-at-home parent, and function without financial stress, something had to go.  It was the car.

Mike sold the ’98 Accord and paid cash for an ’88 Accord.  It was not sharp, it did not have that new car smell (although it did have another kind of smell), and it felt like the kind of car you get “gifted” in high school.  But … it was paid for, and we were able to use the money that wasn’t going to a car payment to begin tackling our other debt.  It was just one step in the process, but it was a huge one.  It was like drawing a line in the sand saying we would never be slave to the lender again.

When it was time for me to change cars in 2004, we paid cash for a ’96 Honda Odyssey.  Using insurance money from the car I totalled (whoops) plus our savings, we got a great car.  How great?  I’ve been driving it ever since.

In the last two years, we’ve known that the time was coming to replace the van.  It had over 200,000 miles and it was starting to show its age.  With that in mind, we’ve been socking money away in a savings account.  Last month we finally reached a point where we realized that driving the van even as far as Nashville wasn’t the best idea.  It was time for something “new”.  We ended up buying a 2005 Honda Pilot with just over 100,000 miles.  We all love the car – compared to the van it seems brand-spankin’ new!  And best of all?  Still no car payment.

2005 Honda Pilot

I can’t help but get frustrated when people tell me that paying cash is great for me, but it would never work for them.  You don’t have to go through your adult life assuming that a car payment is just one of those things you have to have.  These are the most common arguments I’ve heard, and why I think they’re a myth our debt-riddled society has created:

1.  I need a dependable car. A used car doesn’t automatically equal undependable.  I drove the Odyssey for over 7 years and never once found myself stranded with car problems.  Do your research (Consumer Reports has great surveys on which used cars are the most dependable), keep it properly maintained, and a used car can be every bit (if not more) dependable than a brand new car.  For added assurance, purchase AAA membership – it’s way cheaper than a car payment and you’ll never find yourself stranded.

2.  It’s expensive to maintain an older car. Again, do your research and buy a car that gets good ratings for upkeep.  In the last 13 years we’ve owned 4 used cars (2 Hondas, a Mercedes and a BMW).  None of them required extensive maintenance to keep them running.  Yes, you will have to put some work into them.  But which makes more sense? $500 a month in someone else’s pocket or the occasional trip to the mechanic?  Put the money you don’t spend on a car payment in a savings account for any repairs … and if you don’t need it do something fun with it instead.

3.  I need a car that reflects my status. Our real estate agent told us this once – she couldn’t possibly haul clients around in a clunker.  Well, yes, I probably would think twice about getting in your Pontiac 6000 (sorry, Mike!).  But what’s the difference between a brand new car and a 2- or 3-year-old car?  Not much, other than your big ol’ car payment.  I will think more highly of you if I know you haven’t financed every last piece of your status.

4.  I can’t afford to pay cash for a car – financing is too good of a deal to pass up, anyways. It’s paying cash for that first car that’s tough.  I totally get it – it’s a hard cycle to break out of.  The dealers make it so much easier to trade your old car in and get something nice.  But they’re not financing cars because they care about you – they’re doing it because they’re making money off of you.  If you’re a few years out of needing a car, start saving as much as you can now.  Even $50 or $100 a month will make a difference in time when combined with the money you can make selling your old car.  If you have a more immediate need, consider making this car your “gateway” car to financial freedom.  Buy what you can afford that will get you where you need to go.  Drive something less than perfect for a year or two until you can save up enough to buy what you want.  It’s not forever, I promise.  Like Dave Ramsey says, “Live like no one else so that one day you can live like no one else.”

5.  I can’t get all the bells and whistles I want in a used car. Is a built-in DVD player, satellite radio and a GPS really worth going into debt for?  Buy what you can afford and use the money you save to purchase those things on your own.  My used car?  It’s paid for AND it has butt warmers.  I win.

The bottom line is, if we can do it, you can do it.  Take a chance and say goodbye to that car payment.  If you miss it, you can always get a new one!  I have a feeling you won’t miss that payment one bit, though.

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Like a Sandpiper Needs Tasty Ocean Treats, I Need My Girls.

Sandpiper

I have a soft spot in my heart for sandpipers.  I watched this little guy (or little girl? How does one tell?  I spent the better part of a semester in college determining the sex of roly-poly bugs – a story for another time – but the sex of the sandpiper eludes me.) do his thing on the beach for quite a while.  I love how they run along the shore, avoiding the waves.  I like to make sound effects when I watch them.  It’s weird, I know.  I’m an odd bird myself, I guess.

It wasn’t until I heaved myself off my beach chair to take some photos that I realized this particular sandpiper was missing a foot.  Watching him more closely, I could tell that he wasn’t the speediest sandpiper I’ve ever seen.  He had a little gimp.  I liked him even more.  I have a little gimp, too, and I’m not the speediest bird either.

Sandpiper with missing foot

The chance to observe sandpipers in the surf came courtesy of my annual Girls’ Trip.  This is the sixth year I’ve met up with my original playgroup friends.  We used to all live within walking distance of each other, now we are scattered across different states.  Our kids, which brought us together when we were all still changing diapers, don’t really know each other anymore.  It’s okay, though.  They have their own friends to make now.  We, however, are forever friends.

Mike’s commented many times that I have a lot of friends.  And it’s true – between high school and college, stints in Nashville and Indy, through the blog and school and moms’ groups – I know a lot of people and make friends pretty easily.  I’m easy-going and amicable.  I’m always up for getting out and meeting somebody.  If I want to do something, there’s almost always someone I can call.

My girls

But these girls, along with a few other close friends, they are my rock.  Like the sandpiper, they see my gimp and the broken parts and they love me all the more.  I need them like the sandpiper needs the water and the tasty little ocean treats.  We only see each other once a year.  We’re not big e-mailers or letter-writers or phone-callers.  But that year goes by and we find each other again and it’s like 3 days, not 365, have passed.

Some years, the 365 days in between have been pretty crappy.  Jobs are lost, finances are tight, spouses are bickering, kids are fraying every last nerve, parents are ill.  And then it’s three days in April.  We’re together once more.  The sun and the warmth of our friendship gets into to all those dark places and we’re good again.

 

Panama City Beach

 

Thanks girls, for being the best friends this odd-bird-gimpy-girl could have.  Until next year …

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Bruce Is The Boss, Mike Is The Bomb.

The Boss

Last Thursday was shaping up to be a pretty nondescript day.  Eli stays home on Thursdays, so we’re usually in our pajamas long past a reasonable hour.  We get dressed, go to swim lessons, do some laundry and that usually sums up our day.  Besides the usual, I planned to get some homemade Pop Tarts made so I could finally blog about them, and I knew I needed to get dinner prepped as I had to work at 6.

Last night I dreamed I held you in my arms

The music was never-ending

We danced as the evening sky faded to black

One step up and two steps back.

Mike woke me up that morning and the first words out of my mouth were, “You’re wearing that to work?”  In my sleepy haze I noticed he was wearing a Nashville Predators t-shirt, which is definitely not work attire.

“I’m not going to work today.  I need you to get up and take a shower.”  Now I’m awake.  This isn’t normal – not Mike randomly staying home, not me taking a shower before 7:15 a.m. on a Thursday.  And because he knows me so well, he quickly followed up with, “Don’t ask any questions.”

You can’t start a fire

Worrying about your little world falling apart

This gun’s for hire

Even if we’re just dancing in the dark

I had an inkling that he might be scheming something.  Our 15th anniversary is coming up in May.  He’d been overly interested in the calendar lately, and I spied him pulling my parents aside on Easter for a longish conversation.  Still, this randomness on a Thursday caught me off guard.

Baby, once I thought I knew

Everything I needed to know about you

Your sweet whisper, your tender touch

I didn’t really know that much.

He proceeded to get Eli off to school, leaving me with instructions to pack an overnight bag for myself, a bag for the kids, and to stay off any and all social media.  Elena watched me like a hawk – she was in on the surprise and wasn’t going to let me sneak any peeks.  By 9 a.m. we were on the road, to where I hadn’t a clue.

Left the house this morning

Bells ringing, filled the air

Wearin’ the cross of my calling

On wheels of fire I come rollin’ down here

We headed north on I-69, thereby ruling out the usual quick getaways: Chicago, Louisville, Cincinnati, Columbus.  Five hours later we rolled into Rochester, Michigan and paid a visit to the Rochester Mills Beer Company.  I still had no idea why we were in Michigan.  Finally, Mike couldn’t keep it in any more.  He handed me an envelope containing these:

My Surprise Road Trip

I’m not a die-hard Bruce Springsteen fan.  There are songs life-long fans would be ashamed that I didn’t know every word to.  But for years now I’ve said that I’d love to see The Boss in concert.  It was on my imaginary bucket list.  Words that I’d said in passing, “Someday I’d love to … maybe one day … if he ever comes to Indy … wouldn’t it be awesome?” My amazing husband took my wishes and what ifs and made them a reality.  This is incredible on so many levels, but what really stands out for me is that he’s not a Bruce fan (let me clarify: he wasn’t a Bruce fan).  My rock star husband pulled off an enormous surprise, rearranged school schedules, swim lessons, arranged child care, got me off from work and drove 10 hours in 2 days to take me to a concert he doesn’t really even care for.  If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.

Hard times, baby well they come to us all

Sure as the tickin’ of the clock on the wall

Sure as the turnin’ of the night into day.

Your smile girl, brings the mornin’ light to me eyes

Lifts away the blues when I rise

I hope that you’re comin’ to stay.

It was beyond amazing.  Bruce played non-stop for 3 1/2 hours, running around like a mad man, each song sounding better than the last.  He’s 62 going on 22.  This?  Is over 3 hours in.  I was ready to pass out.  The Boss is still going strong.

It was epic, and I just wanted to cry from happiness.  For lyrics and music that have moved me during so many phases of my life.  For checking something off my life list that I wasn’t sure would ever happen.

May I feel your arms around me

May I feel your blood mix with mine

A dream of life comes to me

Like catfish dancin’ on the end of my line

And for Mike, who I’ve known and loved for nearly 18 years, but who can still surprise me like no other.  He’s The Boss of my heart.

 

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