Eewwww.... that car has hub caps

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DRIVER'S SIDE DIATRIBE
By Al Vinikour  

I was looking back through some of my multitude of diatribes I’ve written to see if there’s anything I should expand upon and found one on steel wheels – wheels with hub caps for those of you who live in Ohio. I had previously written a sort of nostalgic look at some of the fancy hub caps that preceded the current trend for most cars of sporting alloy wheels.


It was rereading the piece that I realized I had gone too easy on people who for whatever reason purchase a car with steel wheels and hub caps instead of a good-looking set of “mags” (I’m showing my age for my senior readers who remember the term “mag wheels” as opposed to chrome alloys). Being a sensitive guy it was apparent to me that I hadn’t beaten up on them quite enough and it was their turn in the barrel.

Open wide and say, “Ah” you hub cappers. 

I should probably give a pass to those people who barely have two nickels to rub together who scrape together the finances to buy a new car that they hope will last them a century or two. To keep those costs low they generally buy the base model of an inexpensive car line. That trim level seldom comes with alloy wheels; they have steel wheels and a set of plastic hub caps.

Some of them look cheaper than Don King’s purse disbursement at a championship prize fight. Others don’t look that bad until you look closer and see the black, steel wheel inside some of the plastic cap’s air slits. That’s an uglier sight than an ex-wife. Am I going to let those poor people off the hook on this one? If I did I wouldn’t be much of a heartless, insensitive journalist, would I?

Usually alloys are standard on the second-to-the-base trim level of a vehicle, as is a fair amount of added content. As an average the trim-level steps usually add $1,500-$2,000 to the cost of a vehicle. That’s no insignificant sum to a family on a tight budget. But looked at another way, that vehicle is going to be in the family longer than Uncle Pete and Aunt Jen so it’s less a frivolous expense as it is an investment in the family’s pride.

Let’s say that a family — we’ll call them the Johnstons — orders a new vehicle and prices out the two lower trim levels. There’s a $1,730 difference in “base” and “upgraded.” But with the upgrade they’ll get alloy wheels, brushed chrome and matte decorative finishes, an automatic transmission or upgraded electronics, audio system, seating surfaces, etc. They finance the car for the longest possible time, which currently is at about six years. They’re able to get a very low interest rate.

Financing this family truckster for 72 months will mean an increase of about $24 per month. For that kind of money they have a vehicle that people won’t be sitting in lawn chairs pointing at, laughing, and whistling cat calls at them as they drive by.

Their kids won’t turn into chronic bed-wetters because of the constant harassment they’re receiving from their fellow students and even faculty members who have seen the vehicles when the parents have had to come to school to pick them up.

I know what you’re thinking. “Good Lord, Al…how heartless of a bastard are you?” Hear me out because I haven’t quite told you everything yet. Both of the Johnstons smoke, and the father, Hank Joe Johnston, smokes almost three packs daily. Run the numbers, Bookie; I don’t know how much cigarettes actually cost because when I was a mailman in 1963-1966 and actually did smoke I bought my Parliaments at a drug store on my route for less than $2 per carton.

I remember recently stopping in at my local 7-11 to get a Hostess Twinkie and seeing a sign on the door that announced Marlboro’s were on sale for $56 a carton. So when you add up the monthly amount for supporting Hank Joe’s three packs-a-day habit and the one-pack-a-day rate that his wife, Betty Linda smokes, that’s four packs daily between the two of them or a total of 124 packs during a longer month like July and August. (Every February they use the extra money they save on smokes and take the family out for a steak dinner.)

That’s not quite four cartons per month times $56 — for a total of about $250. For God’s sake it only costs $24 a month to move up to the next trim level and get a set of alloy wheels and preserve a modicum of family dignity.

I don’t want you readers to think that I’m coming down too hard on the Johnston family. If I were going to I would have factored in the amount of beer they drink into the equation to further emphasize my thinking. 

The point I’m really trying to make here is to do something for your family’s sense of worth and move up to that next trim level. Alloy wheels alone will move them perceptively out of the knave category and into the seemingly financially sound realm. Steel wheels on a car are like a steel plate in one’s head. (I’m sure there’s an analogy there but I can’t think of what it might be. It just sounded funny to me.) Steel wheels belong in a museum.