The Saga of the Night Train

This saga actually began in late August 2004. At that time Trina and I were preparing to send our second daughter to college. There had been some discussion that perhaps it was time for us to get another car. We had one teenage driver and would soon have a second one. Trina was driving a relatively new Chevrolet Suburban and I was driving a 1996 Camaro Z-28. Looking over insurance quotes there was absolutely no way we could afford to let the kids drive the Camaro even if both daughters had a good student discount. Besides, I was a teenager once (Trina argues that I still act like a teenager and that’s not a good thing) and I know what kind of trouble you can get into when you have a car that has a speedometer than goes to 140 miles per hour. I think they put that number on there just to tempt you.

That meant that the kids would drive the Suburban. This was not a situation that either Trina or the girls found particularly appealing. Trina didn’t like the idea of the girls driving around in her leather encrusted, chromed out, cool ride. The girls on the other hand didn’t want to be caught dead driving around in a SMAV*. They therefore determined that the best course of action was to get another car. One that was at the same time safe yet cool enough to be seen in by your friends.

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