When I was 16 years old, I bought a used Jetta with a missing radio button and screw-on replacement antenna. The car had four roll up windows and one roll-open sunroof. The plastic headlight control button was tricky, and I constantly left my lights on, killing my battery. The ride shook badly between 57 and 64 miles per hour.
That was my favorite car, hands down. Sometimes, when certain songs come on the radio, I’ll get a flash in my mind’s eye of driving it 20 years ago, listening to the same tune on my way to a girlfriend’s house or a softball game.
But for all the joy that car brought me, it was not the car I originally wanted.
What I had wanted first was a Jeep Cherokee Sport, with nothing in it but a sunroof and a good stereo. Those were the days when most everything on the Jeep was still optional, and I remember thinking I wouldn’t miss the back seat. I’m not sure why I wanted the Sport, nor am I sure why I didn’t get it. I just remember wishing I had.
Fast forward to today.
So when my wife recently asked me to pick out a car for her, I had that autopilot moment when I figured she would want for “the works.” But, as so often happens in our relationship, I was quickly reminded never to underestimate the woman I married. “I really don’t care about anything other than a sunroof and an MP3 adapter,” she said.
I did the car shopping, and I took my wife at her word. I picked out a GMC Acadia that was, aside from the two features I was instructed to look for, definitely devoid of creature comforts. No navigation, no DVD players. Sorry, kids.
At first, I was a little uptight about the purchase. I knew I was being a neighborhood contrarian by not picking out the biggest and most expensive model (or not waiting for the Denali version this fall). It may sound silly, but I really struggled with that for a day or so. I could’ve bought more… why didn’t I?
Then, out of the blue, I remembered the car I wanted when I was 16.
And I realized with a thunderbolt that my dream truck—the one with nothing in it but a sunroof and a stereo—is now parked in my garage.
Where it was supposed to be, all along.
I’ve been smiling nonstop since then. And so has my wife. After 20 years, I have the first car of my dreams; after 11 years, she has a husband with enough sense to listen to her.
And if those two things are not the foundation of luxury right there, I don’t know what is.
Jason Seiden is Co-founder and CEO of Ajax Social Media, a training company that shows professionals how use social media to work more effectively.
I'm the CEO of Ajax Social Media. We're helping 1 million people shine by making their online stories better. 
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Jason – I can relate to this as I am currently car shopping. I have a real desire for a BMW, but I struggle with whether or not I should buy the most expensive car I can afford (probably not). I have similar desires to your wife: sunroof and mp3 player. However, this is where it gets tricky. I am at an age where I finally want to get the care of my dreams, and I can afford it. I actually wanted the un-practical convertible, but was talked out of it (for now) by my husband. So…since I’m not getting the convertible, I definitely want a sport-y if not sports car. He doesn’t understand this because he could care less about cars. I, on the other hand, have pictures of my infant self with my father’s drag racing trophies, so it’s in my blood. My practical side says, go with the reliable, good gas mileage model, which is an Acura TSX (not such a bad tradeoff). I’m putting off any decision for a few months until I see what makes most sense, and possibly so I can put some money away. This, in itself, is a huge step for a compulsive overspender
Enjoy the Acadia, I’m sure it is a very nice vehicle!
@Kelly—I’ve never been able to spend money to impress others; but neither have I had a problem spending money on things I’ve wanted. I wouldn’t dare tell you what to do, but I will say, the soul knows what it wants, and is rarely dissuaded.