We recently got a new company car and driver. The old car was a weird combination of 1950s styling and 1930s engineering. No one ever figured out the model. The mileage was terrible, it belched smoke and leaked oil, there was no muffler and it was littered with fast-food wrappers and empty soda cans.

The driver was dreadful, veering into oncoming traffic, driving the wrong way down one-way streets and jumping the curb to scatter pedestrians. He cut off ambulances and fire trucks. And he ignored directions: Driving the same route week after week, he still managed to get lost daily.

The authorities took a hands-off attitude. He racked up tickets by the yard, and once it seemed he might be fired, but higher-ups just ignored the evidence.

The new rig’s refreshing. The driver’s cheerful and polite, gets along with everyone and has had the job for years. Some worry he may be a stickler for the rules, but he’s got local knowledge to burn. Traffic jam? He has a way around it and will get you there on time.

The car’s a used hybrid. A lot of us would have preferred a new, all-electric vehicle. But if wishes were horses, beggars would ride. Some will complain about the color, and too many foreign parts. But they all have foreign parts. And so what? It’s built in this country and street legal. The sound system’s not stuck on talk radio, there are working seat belts and it has GPS.

And the horn works like a dream.

Lincoln Paine
Portland

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