Monday, March 7, 2011

A (Cargo) Space Odyssey: One Man's Loose Study of the History & Social/Psychological Interpretation of Minivan Ownership

A few years ago I did something that I thought I would never do. I vehemently argued the case for owning a minivan. Of the long list of behaviors and things I would love to ban from the road, minivans were always at the top of the list. My rapid progress would often be hindered by one of these vision blocking, cumbersome bricks of a conveyance. It seemed that they were always piloted by some house frau taking the crumb snatchers to soccer/Tae-Kwon-Do/dance class at the blinding velocity of a Terrapin. Add it all up and you have a recipe for vehicular frustration.

Always vying for the top spot with minivans were SUV's - mainly for the forward vision blocking component. The marketing juggernauts in the auto industry have certainly done their job selling the American public on the SUV image I thought. It's a certainty that 99.9% of the people who buy them will never venture off-road...at least not intentionally. I felt that their main purpose was increased profit for the car company. Did you know that SUV's can bring up to 83% profit from a single sale? Besides, real off-road people drive Jeeps and 4x4 pickups. In fact, the majority of SUV's stay in 2-wheel drive mode for the duration of their lifespan. As a result, based on my personal prejudice and less than Dian Fossy-like observations, I had neatly stereotyped SUV drivers into 2 categories...
  1. Well Kept Trophy Wives - These ladies usually drive Range Rovers, Escalades or any Mercedes SUV. They drive their expensive behemoths to meet their peers at Starbucks for grande skim lattes after dropping the kids off at daycare and their morning workout (with their personal trainer) at the local upscale gym. They loudly converse about the latest educational toy that little Trevor is already to advanced to learn anything from, their husbands brilliant presentation to the star client (that they actually prepared), or yesterday's Oprah. In these conversations, they wait to talk as opposed to listen. Their social circle demands the "urban warrior" cache of an SUV, which usually has a window sticker proclaiming the name of the daycare/private school their kids attend. They couldn't possibly bear the "soccer mom" social stigma that comes with driving a minivan.
  2. Compensating Single Jackasses - These obnoxious extroverts drive the biggest, most expensive SUV's they can get their hands on. More often than not they are over 30 and given to displays of unparalleled douchebaggery. He drives an SUV because nothing else has a sturdy enough suspension and enough room to carry his enormous ego. He has an in-truck stereo that drowns out most 747's in full throttle. They add (at least) 22 inch wheels and 22 square feet of misc. retina-burning bling to their sport utility just in case you didn't hear them coming. They can usually be seen attempting to drive their SUV as if it were a Ferrari while on the cell phone. It's often a guy who's vertically challenged or morbidly obese. He has a personalized plate to draw further attention to himself. I'll use as an example that guy who terrorizes the streets of Plead Guilty County, MD in his red Dodge Durango. Those of you who live in the area know who I'm talking about. The one with the vanity plate that says "HUNGLO". Like I said...compensating.
Anyway, after Andrea informed me that Ariel would soon have a sibling, we began to contemplate the purchase of a larger vehicle. We were already executing contortionist-like maneuvers getting Ariel and her arsenal of accoutrement's in/out of the Mazda 626/Audi A4, especially in tight spaces like parking lots. We would need something that would accommodate us, 2 small children and the various things that must travel everywhere with them. Andrea wanted something that had amenities, good line of site and a level of comfort that she was used to or better. I wanted something with good ingress/egress, a decent amount of power (ok, more than a decent amount) and the ability to carry a bunch of crap from Home Depot. We both wanted the highest level of safety. The answer was clear (note to all you unmarried folks - the answer is never clear in these situations)....
  • Andrea's clear answer = SUV
  • My clear answer = Avant (note: "Avant" is a bombastic word meaning "fancy European station wagon")
...in the vainglorious words of Michael Buffer, "Let's get ready to rumble!!!". Take note: neither of us mentioned the word "minivan".

Now I'm sure that many of you reading this understand Andrea's choice and wonder what meds I must have been on to even mention a station wagon. Nothing in my history would indicate the thought of a wagon. I've always had a fondness for low slung coupes or sports sedans. All of my cars (with the exception of that Pinto I had in HS) had been nimble, fast and of European descent ...kinda like Tiger's side-pieces. I was arguing for a wagon because I didn't want an SUV or (God forbid) a minivan. If you have need for the cargo room of an SUV/minivan, there is no other sane argument for a loser cruiser. Also, as a self proclaimed auto enthusiast, an avant had tuner potential. An avant was usually a wagon version of a very potent German sports sedan(ex. Audi S4 Avant, Mercedes E Class AMG Wagon), offered for those of us who want to have our cake and to eat it too. So it's only truthful to say that I had my ulterior motives for a station wagon.

Back in the day, nobody ever really wanted, but settled for a station wagon. They were the homely, road-going beasts that more often than not had fake wood unceremoniously glued onto the sides in an ill-fated attempt to make them more attractive. Alas, they were practical for a family. They had the ability to carry a bunch of people and their mountain of crap when nothing else could. They were ponderous mammoths that phlegmatically wallowed through every corner, school zone and A&P parking lot. They had zero sex appeal. Station wagons were the nerdy kid in class who wasn't necessarily all that smart either. In short, they were automotive social suicide. Then in the early 80's, a new nerdy daft kid came to town. The station wagon saw itself driven to the brink of extinction by the introduction of the minivan, or as I like to call it, Loser Cruiser 2.0.

The concept of a "mini"van was not new. In fact, minivans can trace their ancestry back to 1936 with the arrival of the Stout Scarab, an offbeat motorcar which featured the first use of a contemporary monospace design. In 1949 and 1950, the DKW Shnellaster and VW Type 2 came to the market respectively. The former featured a transversely mounted engine powering front-wheel drive, the latter adapted a bus-shaped body to a stretched Beetle chassis. In 1983, Chrysler Corp put this hodgepodge of ideas together along with flexible seating and a load-flat cargo area. This witches brew was poured on top of the trusty K-car platform and viola(!) the first modern minivan, the Dodge Caravan was served to the public with a side of wood (see picture). With few notable exceptions, this was the basic architecture of every minivan in production right up to today.

So Andrea and I were at a crossroads. She wanted a Nissan Armada or Caddy Escalade. I wanted a VW Passat or Audi A6 Avant. She wouldn't consider an avant because it is after all, a station wagon. I argued that the few modern avants available were amenity-laden, practical and attractive. I cited the current crop of Volvo, BMW, Mercedes and of course Audi wagons. She counters that they were all expensive and "attractive is a stretch". I argued that the SUV's she chose were equally if not more expensive. At that point, she made herself clear. "I'm not driving a station wagon. I'm just not."

I understood Andrea's attraction to an SUV. They sit high and have a great line of sight. They can carry alot of things and people. For many, SUV's give them a sense of power and control. They feel safe and in command of the road. They are masculine. They have swagger. Simply put, SUV's are the alpha male NFL linebackers of the road. I had to argue however that "Most are also expensive to maintain, awkward to get in and out of, guzzle gas and have a jarring ride. They are essentially enclosed pickup trucks that never stray from the beaten path" I said. She was unswayed.

During the course of this great debate we had plans to visit some relatives down south. My mother and sister were going with us, so the plan was to rent an SUV to get us all there in one vehicle. As fate would have it the rental place had no SUV's available, only one lonely Ford Aerostar...a minivan. With no other options at our disposal, we loaded up and made our way down the road and back. During the trip a surprising thing happened. Although unspoken, we both started opening up to the idea of owning a minivan. I had been so averse to the concept that I fully expected to become physically ill just sitting in the drivers seat. I felt that my body would abhorrently reject it like an incompatible donated kidney. It didn't, and the virtues of a minivan started to emerge. The positives for our life situation were impossible to ignore. The ride was comfortably car-like, not joltingly truck-like. The drivers seat sat high enough to give an unobstructed view over traffic. Gas mileage was pretty darn good. Andrea even remarked that the sliding doors and low floor made it easy to get people and things in/out without high lifting and impossible contortions. It made every task easier. Based on that trip, I reluctantly came to the conclusion that the best vehicle for us would be a minivan.

Andrea wasn't convinced. She was dead set on an SUV. Driving a minivan meant accepting the "scrapbooking mom" image and all of the stereotypes that go with it. Just a little bit of one's fun & sexy image dies a quiet death behind the wheel of a minivan. She refused to be painted with that brush. I then began what I called "Mission Minivan: A Cargo Space Odyssey". I had to convince Andrea to give in. I devised a comparison of the Nissan Armada and Nissan Quest to illustrate the similarities and differences. I won't bore you with the itemized comparison I composed, but brand new and fully equipped the two stacked up like this....
  • Armada - 12 to 17 mpg - $54,510
  • Quest - 19 to 24 mpg - $44,695
...that's a $9,815 and significant mpg difference. The only real incongruity between the two was engine (V8 in the Armada, V6 in the Quest), 4x4 drive (which isn't offered on the Quest) and run-flat tires (not offered on the Armada), otherwise they were equipped exactly the same including NAV,bluetooth, DVD, backup camera, heat memory seats/mirrors/pedals, etc.

After being presented with the above numbers and acknowledging that the pros of a minivan far outweighed the few cons, Andrea still wouldn't acquiesce. At that point I simply said "We're getting a minivan. You know as well as I do that it makes perfect sense for us." The look she gave me was one of pure venom. We both stood there arms folded, eyes locked. After a long, uncomfortable silence, she replied "I want it to be blue." and walked away.

As is my practice, I scoured the earth for a previously owned example as I had no intention of paying upwards of 40 large for anything that ultimately would have cheesy goldfish, melted crayons and half-eaten PBJ's haphazardly strewn from front to rear. After an extensive internet search, we found a blue one (fully loaded) in Minnesota with a mere 8000 miles on it. To quote that kid from Animal House, "Thank you God!".

I no longer hate minivans. In fact I think ours is a pretty darn fly minivan (how's that for oxymoronic?). Although Andrea has never admitted to me that she actually likes the Quest, two years in I still overhear her extol it's virtues and her satisfaction with it to friends and relatives. In our situation, it truly does make everything easier. From grocery getting to bulk transporting to people mover.

I still have a preference for well built European models (stay with me - still talkin' 'bout cars here people) and love the feeling only a German car with sporting intentions seems to give me, but I've joined the ranks of an overlooked demographic. I"m now the guy chauffering munchkins to playdates and swim class. My kids have busier social calenders than I've EVER had! I can get everything I need from Home Depot in one trip now. Grocery bags have their own little hooks to hold them. Need to transport 3 kids, 3 adults, food, towels, portable potty and toys to the beach? You ain't said nuthin' but a word. The Quest handles it all with aplomb. Yes, I look like a dork behind the wheel, but Andrea most certainly does not. She manages to make it look good. I think the wheels and angular design give me some cool points when I'm driving, but hey, it's the dad life and I love living it even in a minivan. Loser cruiser? I think not. Swaggerwagon! What do you think? Feel free to share....
The Swagger Wagon - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ql-N3F1FhW4&feature=related%EF%BB%BF
The Dad Life - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fZa7hU6tP_s

1939 Stout Scarab
1949 DKW Shnellaster
1950 Volkswagen Type 2
1983 Dodge Caravan
The Bach(elor)-mobiles of yesteryear.
Living the dad life with Philip, the kids rides, and the swagger wagon. Ariel took this picture.

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