And the tally is now official:

Minivan lost in a landslide to my daughter’s suggestion to get a “silver” car to match my silver hair.

I’ll be driving a 2005 Chrysler Sebring Touring convertible with all the bells and whistles.

And I mean ALL the bells and whistles: A button you push to put up or bring down the top automatically (includes auto lowering of the windows); 6 CD changer and modified speakers; auto transmission, power steering and brakes; remote keyless entry and theft alarm; leather interior with cloth inserts; temp guage and compass.  I asked if it gave blow jobs on demand and they said that was a self-install feature not available at dealerships.

However, I was anally assaulted by the finance guys — staying home won’t be a problem with the car payments I’ll have until sometime after my death in 2012.  No kiss, either.

Four people can sit in the car comfortably — how odd! — and no one in the world has smoked a cigaret in its interior.  No “new car” smell, however.

VERY different to drive.  It’s not nearly as peppy as the Miata, nor as road hugging and the ABS antilock brakes just about throw me through the front windshield.  It gets OK gas mileage at 28 on the highway and 22 in town.

I have both factory warranty and extended warranty for the next 43,000 and then another 60,000 — it has about 18,000 miles on it at present.

“Certified Pre-Owned” means something, but who really knows?

If you see me, ask about how my driver’s license figures into my day today.