Tercels, Clunkers & Government Cheese

I checked today, and neither of our cars meets the U.S. government definition of a clunker. The program, easily the biggest federal hit since government cheese, is officially known as the Car Allowance Rebate System. That name's about as interesting as an exit ramp designation, so it's little wonder that "Cash For Clunkers" is the name that stuck, and will probably stick in future books and articles that describe our time.

My old Tercel gets far and away too many miles per gallon to qualify for government-ordained destruction -- 29 combined city and highway mpg, according to the CARS web site. Good thing, I'm too fond of it anyway to have it euthanized.

Last week, I pulled up to the drive-by mailbox at our local post office just as an employee was unloading the boxes, so he took my mail directly from me.

"How many miles you got on that car?" he said, with a hint of admiration in his voice. I told him -- it's not all that many, considering how long I've owned the car -- and he made a remark about the car's durability. About a month ago, when I went for minor maintenance on the same car at a Toyota dealership, one of the mechanics voiced a similar opinion, and I don't think he was being sarcastic.

Tercels never used to get that kind of praise. During their production run (1978-99), they were the Gummo Marx of the Toyota line. A few years ago, I remember a moment early in Night in the Museum, when Ben Stiller's character was being established as a failed inventor and a sympathetic loser, you briefly see his car, which has a Denver boot on it: a beat-up '80s Tercel. A losermobile, in other words.

Now they're cars that last a long, long time and get fairly high mileage. These are desirable things in our moment in history.

Speaking of moments in history, I'll bet that if I mention "government cheese" to Lilly, I'll get a peculiar look.