Day 24 of 60 | Bonjour, Paris! 🇫🇷✨
I have a confession to make. Actually, two.
Confession #1: I’ve spent a ridiculous amount of money on cars over my lifetime.
Confession #2: I no longer even like cars.
Allow me to explain.
When I graduated college, my dad gave me this sage advice:
“Son, the best car is a paid-for car.”
This was right after he very generously gifted me a used green Honda Accord - because the car I’d driven through high school and college died a fiery oil-less death at a gas station the week I was supposed to graduate. While I was grateful, that green Accord was about as cool as a middle-aged guy trying to get bottle service at a nightclub. 🤣
So naturally, a week later I traded it in for a massive Ford truck that I thought would impress the ladies. It didn’t. The thing guzzled gas like a frat boy at an open bar, was too big to park anywhere, and was my first taste of car financing l did, which is basically the financial equivalent of setting money on fire but slower. That was the moment I began my decades-long rebellion against my dad’s wisdom.
Fast forward a couple of decades (and over $2 million later 😬) and my “investment portfolio” of vehicles included:
• Multiple Lexus models
• A couple of Mercedes
• A few BMWs
• Three Porsche Cayennes (yes, three — clearly I don’t learn lessons easily)
• A Ferrari Spider F150
• A Mercedes Sprinter Van
• And enough SUVs to qualify as a small-scale car rental operation
I even bought other people cars - my mom her dream green Jaguar, my wife a baller BMW 7-Series, and my GM in Hawaii a kickass Toyota Tacoma. I was basically the Oprah of terrible automotive decisions: “You get a car! You get a car!”
And after all that… I have approximately five photos on my phone that even prove I ever owned any of them. That’s about $400,000 per picture. Excellent ROI. 👏
But for the first time since I was 16, I now own zero cars. 🚗❌
Why? Because I live in a walkable city that doesn’t require one - and I absolutely love it. When I need a ride, there are so many Ubers that I feel like the President with my own personal motorcade on standby. And if I’m feeling fancy, an “Uber Black” is just a few extra bucks away.
Living in Paris this month, I can’t imagine owning a car. Between the parking, the one-way streets, and Uber drivers who treat pickup times as optional suggestions, it’s still infinitely better to let someone else drive.
So here it is: my official announcement.
After a lifelong, wildly expensive love affair with cars…I might never buy one again.
Consider me cured — and my dad’s advice finally followed, only 33 years late. 🤣
