We were driving by a car lot today when Phil, my ever alert car-appreciator, spied a Porsche Cayenne.
"We should buy that," he said.
"What kind of gas mileage does it get," I asked.
"Fifty-nine miles per gallon!?"
"Fifty-nine dollars per mile."
After the snorting there was some sighing and shaking of the heads and then we drove on down the street to look at bicycles--with baskets attached--and sidecars.