I ran into a friend I hadn't seen for several years last weekend. He's really into cars.
So, naturally, he asked me what I was driving.
Me: "The Acura."
Him: "STILL?! Oh man, that car's a classic by now."
I discreetly rolled my eyes.
He made it seem like cars were as replaceable as free iPhones. Yeah — as if I can just walk into a dealership, sign a 12-month contract, and get the latest vehicle.
After that conversation, I realized something: cars are nothing more than gas-powered advertisements. That's what they are.
They're shiny, two-ton, depreciating advertisements sitting on four slabs of inflated rubber.
One could also say cars are expensive frames for holding up the maker's chrome emblem.
Either way, you're paying the brand to advertise for them. Instead of the other way around.
Car conversations should go more like this:
Person 1: "Which advertisement you driving these days?"
Person 2: "Oh I've still got the Volvo. But my contract with them is almost up. They'll stop paying me next month. So I've gotta find another brand. I'm thinking maybe a Lamborghini. Can you imagine how big their monthly payments to me will be? I might even be able to retire early."
Now, don't get me wrong. I still love cars. But this revelation puts the idea of brand loyalty
in a tacky light.