Could you be happy with just one car?

How many cars do you have? Two? Three or four? Somewhere north of five, 10 or even 20?

No matter the number, the answer always seems to be the same: To achieve true happiness, just one more car is needed.

I think it’s been a common quest for many of us since that first Hot Wheels car. If we had a second one, we figured, we’d be twice as happy. And three or four? We could dream, right? 

I’ve never owned a ton of cars and, truth be told, didn’t get my first until I was in college. It was a big buy, too, spending $2000 on an ’82 Accord sedan that wore era-appropriate blue over blue and, yes, had a stick. 

At some point in life, well into my GRM days, I had the space and scratch to add a second car to the mix. Call it an occupational hazard. And then more cars followed. 

Before the pandemic, though, I started to realize something that I have repeated (both aloud and to myself) multiple times: I don’t need more cars, I need more time to enjoy the ones that we have.

What good, for example, is a cool Miata if it’s not driven because it’s blocked in? Guilty as charged, as ours, a past magazine project car, sat in the back corner of the garage for more than eight years. 

So we sent our Nissan 240SX–the very one my parents bought new back in 1991 and drove for so many years–across the Bring a Trailer auction block. 

[Nissan 240SX: One of the best sports cars–even from day 1?]

Sold. 

Despite some personal attachment to that one–my parents waited until my brother and I were home from school so they could surprise us–I felt relief as it drove away. 

Yes, a very cool car, but I admit, we simply weren’t using it–and I could see the car degrading due to that stagnation. I believe it went across the state to Tampa. I have yet to hear from the buyer. 

During the pandemic, we again shed a car, putting our ’75 Pontiac wagon up for bidders. We bought it from the original owners, but like our rad-era Nissan, it spent more time sitting than cruising. I could see time–and the elements–doing not good things to it. 

The buyer showed up from Indiana with an empty trailer. He handed over a stack of hundreds, loaded up the wagon, and set sail for points north at 11:50 that Saturday morning. 

Our bank closes at noon on that day. I made it there in time to make the deposit in person. Never heard from that buyer, either.

[It's hard to say goodbye (to a car)]

What happened after these two transactions? I’m now using the cars that remain. 

The Miata emerged from its auto cocoon, received some deferred maintenance, and has been a regular sight at our local autocrosses for the past two-plus years. 

The Porsche 911, no longer blocked in by the wagon, can easily be enjoyed. It now goes to events, has been on some photo shoots, and just got a clean bill of health. And the M3 has also been seeing some sunlight lately; like the rest of the group, it’s pretty much ready to go. 

But the past week with a new BMW Z4 M40i got me thinking: Could I sell those three and make a lateral move into this one? 

[Live thread: One week with a 2023 BMW Z4 M40i]

The Z4 is fast enough, comfortable enough and practical enough. It has Apple CarPlay and, like the Miata, the top goes down. The a/c delivers ice-cold refreshment, even here in Florida where the “feels like” temperature has been into three digits. 

Our test car wore a color called Thundernight Metallic, a deep, way-rad shade of purple. I love it. 

If I were to turn three into one, I’d still have a BMW, a roadster and something that turns heads. I’d also have more room in my garage, my life and my head. 

So I built my own Z4 online. The model starts at nearly $67,000, but the way I’d want it, it tops $70,000.

Then reality started to knock on the door: Either way, that’s a gigantic pile of money–several times more than I have ever spent on a vehicle. And could I live without a Miata? Or the 911? And those flares on the M3 just look so cool. How could I give up original, clean examples of those three icons? 

Really, what I probably need to do is add a track car to that mix–you know, something I could safely, reliably pound on all day. But maybe that’s a discussion for another time.

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