Driving me nuts

My father buys a new car every second year.

He has done so since he first started working at the age of 16.

Why two years?

Because he considers it pointless to put new tyres on an old car if you can just buy a whole new car.

At 65 I doubt if he can remember all the cars he had owned.

Some of the cars didn’t even make the full two years because of reasons only he will know.

I remember an Opel Ascona that didn’t make two weeks.

He just said the car doesn’t feel right.

Well, it’s that time again.

The old man is shopping for a new car and he is driving from the one car dealer to the next, driving every salesman in town nuts.

And with me being a motoring journalist and supposed to be two spanners short of a toolbox, he phones me every night – after eight – to ask my opinion.

I don’t mind talking ‘cars’ with my dad but what frustrates me is that he doesn’t listen to me.

He can’t think out of the box.

For years now he only buys Toyota Corollas, and so does my mother.

They both used to have white Corollas but after friends told them the house looks a bit like a Budget Rent-a-Car agency, he traded his white Corolla for a red one.

My father is on pension so he spends his days test driving every car that he can get his hands on.

He does this out of boredom, because in the end I know he’s just going to buy another Corolla.

Why buy Corolla if you are only going to keep it for two years?

By that time the engine is not even run in yet.

And what’s the point in having two cars which are exactly the same?

He used to have a bit of a wild side because I’ve heard stories of a Datsun SSS with sawn-off coil-springs – to drop the body for drifting around bends.

I suppose that’s before he became a family man.

So I’ve tried talking him into a car that is fun to drive – something with a bit of a temperament and in which he can enjoy his old days.

And while he does go to look at what I suggest, his excuses are always the same;

Not enough boot space, seats are too firm, ride is too hard, etc.

Now, I’ve given up.

And seeing that the new Toyota Corolla is still four months away, I would just like to warn every salesman in town; if you see an old man climb out of a red Corolla, don’t get your hopes up.

He will walk through your whole showroom, kick a few tyres and ask for specs.

Although he might seem sincere and genuinely interested, he will not buy from you because unknowingly, he has already made up his mind.

If everybody were like my father, there would have only been Corollas on our roads, like in Pakistan.