Article Source Washingtonpost
My trusty little Honda Civic died in the middle of the Fourth of July weekend. We’d been together for 13 years. Like anybody trying to pick up the pieces after a long-term relationship, I knew I had to get back out there or I’d find myself alone on the interstate, hitching my way to work. After an appropriate period of mourning and visits to the loan officer at my credit union, I would need a new car.
I would also need to go about it differently this time around. The last time I was looking for a car, a Republican was in the White House and Netflix still sent me DVDs. A lot has changed on the scene since then. Continue reading