Marketing and general cultural assumptions will tell you it is uncool to own a van. After much discussion, Kris and I decided last year that we were ready to turn in our cool keys and get a van.
“We could use a van to take both kids AND a set of grandparents on an outing to the zoo or the aquarium!”
“We could use a van to take four other adults on beergrimages!”
In the Catoe household, there is “the plan” and then there is “how things turn out.”
The Plan for the Catoes to acquire a van in 2010 went like this:
• Double up on payments to Rooms to Go and pay off the furniture we bought for the house in 2008
• Save money each month to use as a down payment
• Trade in the Civic
• Procure a van by year’s end
And here is how things turned out:
Kris’ parents kept the boys after church on Sunday, and we opted to use the child-free time to go to Wal-Mart. (Yeah, I guess our cool keys were getting sort of rusty before the van anyway.) We decided to drive over to Attalla to have lunch at Los Arcos pre-Wal-Mart.
As we pulled into the Los Arcos parking lot, we were talking of vans. We’ve been keeping a mental tally of which vans we like. Kris probably saw a van and commented on it, leading me to mention to him a notion I’d been toying with.
“You know, if we could sell the car outright and then put a little cash with it, we could just buy a van now and save for a better one later. You think we could get $6,000 for the car?”
Then we went inside Los Arcos and had a lovely lunch and spoke no more of vans.
After Wal-Mart, we discussed hitting the thrift store to look for a coat for Kris (it has been SO VERY COLD) and some pajama pants.
“I don’t think they’re open on Sundays,” Kris tells me.
“Yeah, but it doesn’t hurt to drive home that way and see.”
So instead of using I-759 to go home, as we usually would from the Attalla Wal-Mart, we drove down highway 77. I don’t know how Kris can drive and also scope out car lots, but he can.
As we pull into the thrift store parking lot to find it closed, Kris mentions we passed a car lot on 77 that had a 2005 Kia Sedona for $6,900.
“Well, drive us back over there. We can’t do that with the boys and it’s so cold out, it’s not gonna hurt the food in the trunk.”
We zip back over to spy this van. I got out and walked around the van quickly (So. Cold. Outside.), noting four captain’s chairs and a bench in the back. Seating for six comfortably, seven if you squished.
As I walked around the back of the van, I pointed out to Kris that there was a “Jesus fish” affixed to it. And then I spy a coin lodged between the bumper and the hatch.
Michael Bynum, former Associate Pastor at the Vineyard, once made an analogy about lost coins being like the people that fall through the cracks in church, society, etc. Before he said this, I would not have stopped my parking lot strides to pick up a penny. It’s just a penny. But the metaphor stayed with me (as many a metaphor has) and now I always pick up a discarded coin.
I slid the coin out; it was so dirty it took a moment to tell whether it was a quarter or a nickel.
“It’s a nickel,” I told Kris.
“Five for grace,” he responded.
I hopped back in the car to avoid freezing and Kris looked a little more and then we headed home.
After we put up all the groceries, Kris went to get online to research what our car would be worth and if the van was being offered at a good price. Only, the internet would not work. Resetting the router usually fixes it but not this time.
I got on the laptop to work up photos of Cash in his snazzy shirt. Once I finished, I opened the web browser one last time. I closed my eyes and prayed. God knew that we needed to leave soon to pick up the boys. He also knew that I wanted to upload the photos and find out about vehicles before we left. I opened my eyes and instead of “Page not found” as it had been every other time we tried, my Google home page loaded.
“Kris!”
So while I uploaded photos of Cash to Flickr, Kris checked out 2002 Honda Civics and 2005 Kia Sedonas online.
The van seemed a reasonable price and our car would be worth about $5,800 if it was in excellent condition (which it was not) and $5,300 if it was in good condition (which it was).
“I’d sell it for $5,000 if it was someone we knew,” I told Kris.
He put up a Facebook post right then, shortly before 5pm. I was like “wait!” I know sometimes you have to ask more when selling something just because people like to haggle. So Kris took the post down and we left to go get the boys.
A couple hours later, I told Kris “no, $5,000 must be right. Even five, like the nickel.” So he posted another Facebook message.
Minutes later, Kris’ cell phone rang. He was giving Cash a bottle, and his phone was plugged in across the room, so I went and told him the number. Since it was one neither of us recognized, we let it go to voicemail. Kris joked that he would only take the call if it was someone wanting to buy the Civic.
And then my cell phone rang. Knowing this was someone who knew to try both of our phones, I picked up.
“Hi, this is LaChelle, I saw Kris’ post on Facebook…”
Holy cow, people!
I quickly passed the phone to Kris and he passed off the baby.
It turns out LaChelle had posted this on Facebook shortly before Kris got online:
LaChelle Gibbs is wondering if anyone might know of a Honda or Toyota car, around a 2004 model, that is for sale by owner……
And Pamela Simpson, currently in Redding, California but online at the same time, noticed the two posts and pointed LaChelle in our direction.
The next day, LaChelle’s husband came by the Times on his lunch break and test-drove the Civic. He approved.
Kris and I headed over to Grantland Motors to test-drive the Sedona. We drove it home to make sure it would fit in the garage. By inches, it did. I copied down the VIN number to run a CarFax report.
LaChelle came to see the Civic when she got off work at 3pm. She loved it. They not only wanted the car, they wanted it that day!
Kris went home and emptied the car of everything but the car seats. He brought it back to me so I could pick up the boys from daycare. On the way there, I was wistful. I loved my car!
“LaChelle will love you, too,” I said aloud to my trusty Civic.
Driving home with Ben in the backseat (Cash rode with Kris), I had a moment of panic. What have we done?!? And then I happened to look at the odometer.
115,555
I laughed. It would be fine.
Scott and LaChelle came by that night and picked up the car. They gave Kris a ride over to my grandmother’s house so we could borrow her land yacht again.
Tuesday morning, we were still dumbfounded.
“I can’t believe we sold the car,” we kept saying.
Midday, I called the owner of Grantland Motors. I told him I’d sold my car and got $5,000 for it and was willing to rob $2,000 from my son’s college fund and how much did he want for the van?
“Aw, hon, it’s not even that much. It’s $6,900.”
“Yeah, but with tax…”
He offered to bring it down.
Kris and I drove over and while I wrote the man a check, Kris loaded up the captain’s chairs with car seats.
We drove back downtown and returned GJ’s car and filled the gas tank in the van. Then I told Kris what the final price was.
“He brought it down to an odd number so it would even out with tax. We paid $6,400.”
I paused as something occurred to me.
“Which is $500 less than the asking price.”
Five by five, baby.
