Advice for Car Buyers

My mother is planning to purchase a new car. I visited her recently and found her sitting at her kitchen table with an old friend of hers, whom I'll call Madge. They were discussing the relative merits of different car makes and models. While I removed my jacket and hung it on a chair I began listening to their conversation.

"Get a Magna," Madge said. "I've been driving one for ten years and I've never had any trouble with it."

That's odd, I thought. I've seen Madge visit my mother many times, and never seen her drive a Magna. My mother's reply indicated that she was also confused.

"Do you have two cars?"

"Nope. Just the one."

My mother and I paused to think about this apparent contradiction. My mother was the first to formulate a question.

"Hmmm. Do you often borrow your husband's car?"

"You know my husband would never let me borrow his car!" Madge joked, "But I'm not bothered by that, since I love my Magna so much!"

My mother smiled but then struggled again to find an explanation for the fact that when Madge visited, she often if not always, arrived in a car that was clearly not a Magna.

"Have you been borrowing a car from a friend?"

"Why would I do that, when I have a Magna that I love?"

Madge was becoming confused too. Her and my mother's brows were furrowed as they tried to read each other's thoughts. My mother then looked to me, as if to ask whether I had made any sense of the conversation. I tried to help by taking over her questioning.

"Did you drive the Magna here today?"

"Yes! Like I always do!"

"Where did you park?"

"Right outside the house!"

I opened the front door and looked outside. There was one car in view. It was yellow, and not a Magna.

"You mean the yellow one?"

"Yes!"

"The one that says 'Falcon' in big letters on the back?"

Silence filled the kitchen. An ashen look fell on Madge. She had searched for reasons to support her belief that her car was a Magna, and found nothing. It was probably the first time in years her mind had dwelled more than a passing instant on the car she drove almost every day.

There was no need for me to say anything else, and so after exchanging concerned glances with my mother, I left the conversation and the room.

Madge drove an XF Falcon. I cannot explain how she came to believe it was a Magna, and how she failed to notice the big 'Ford' and 'Falcon' badges, and how she failed to notice people around her referring to her car and similar cars as 'falcons'.

There is a moral to this story, and the moral is: If you seek car buying advice, seek it from someone who knows what kind of car they drive.