Attention All People: Please Admit That You Really Need a Minivan
Stop Pretending You're an Outdoorsy Person
My wife Evi and I have two kids and a minivan. You should, too. Have a minivan, I mean. I don’t give a shit about your number of kids. Have one or a dozen for all I care. But you should definitely drive a minivan.
This is not a popular opinion. We have a metric ton of friends with young children—it’s the law when you’re new parents—and every time I suggest to any of them that, hey, we love our minivan and they should consider buying one, they look at me like I asked to stick my finger in their nose. “What? Oh, no…I could never drive one of those.”
One of what, exactly? You mean the unquestionably perfect family vehicle? The one with an actually comfortable third row of seats? The one with those sweet sliding power doors that never, ever ding the car next to you when you’re trying strap your little brat into her child seat at Walmart? The one which allows your five-year-old to walk to the back and pee in her potty without having to go outside?
The newer minivans are amazing. They’re practical, spacious, have everything a modern family could possibly need, and none of you assholes want to be seen in one. “I don’t want to look like a soccer mom,” I’ll hear you say.
NEWSFLASH: EVERYBODY KNOWS YOU’RE A SOCCER MOM. YOU’RE NOT COOL ANYMORE, AND LET’S BE HONEST, YOU PROBABLY NEVER WERE.
A little history may be in order here: Sometime around the late 1980s, manufacturers started producing and marketing sports utility vehicles, otherwise known as SUVs, as family vehicles. Sales weren’t amazing because, as a family vehicle, they sucked. They were gutless, bouncy, and had all the interior comfort of a Sherman tank. They handled like trucks because underneath, they were trucks. At the time, most SUVs were built on truck frames. A Nissan Pathfinder, for example, was simply a Nissan Hardbody Pickup they put a roof over.
But they looked cool. They looked outdoorsy. They sat in your driveway and said, “the owner of this vehicle clearly has a large penis”.1
Conversely, in 1984, Chrysler invented the “minivan,” in the form of the Dodge Caravan and Plymouth Voyager.2 Before 1984, all vans were truck-based full-size vehicles sold mostly to plumbers, electricians and child molesters. What Chrysler did was put a smaller size van on a car frame. It was revolutionary! A big, practical vehicle that drove like a car. They sold like hotcakes. Soon every manufacturer copied the formula and produced their own minivan.
But they did not look cool. Every minivan ever made, even to this day, looks like a giant egg with wheels. So, eventually, they got the uncool “soccer mom” reputation. Sales plummeted. Many manufacturers got out of minivans entirely.
So what did automakers do?
They invented (cue the Jaws theme song) the “crossover”.
You may not be familiar with that term, but there’s a good chance you plant your ass in one every day. Almost every vehicle now marketed as an “SUV” isn’t an SUV at all; it’s a unibody car chassis designed to look like an SUV, but drive like a car. If you own a Hyundai Tucson, Honda CRV, Kia Telluride, or any of the dozens of similar vehicles sold today, you drive a crossover. In other words, you, my friend, are a poseur.
ADMIT IT. YOU DON’T DRIVE OFF ROAD. THE ONLY TIME YOUR TIRES EVER LEAVE PAVEMENT IS WHEN YOU PARK ON THE GRASS WHEN THE PARKING LOT IS FULL AT OLIVE GARDEN.
Crossovers are nothing but gigantic compromises. They are not nearly as capable as a true SUV offroad, and they make up for it by not being nearly as practical as a minivan on-road. And demand is so high for these pretender vehicles that the prices are through the roof.
Look, it’s fine. If you want to spend more money on a less practical vehicle all for the sake of appearances, hey, it’s your bank account. Just don’t give me that look—you know the one—when I tell you that I’m driving what’s actually the smartest, baddest-ass vehicle on the road.
And that you, perhaps, should admit you really need one.
~JCS
P.S. I mentioned a few weeks ago that my daughter Sasha attends a fantastic, highly-rated charter school where all I gotta do is volunteer twelve hours a year and her tuition is free. If you’re wondering how her school is actually funded, well wonder no more. Apparently the students themselves have to shake people down for money.
Anyway, Sasha (Aleksandra on the website; Sasha is her nickname) will be walking laps at a fundraiser for our school soon, and I would consider it a personal favor if you pledged a certain amount per lap (or a flat amount) in her name. Thanks and I love you.
Most SUV owners back then were male, but if the owner was female, it probably said the same thing.
Someone PLEASE remind me to write the story about how my dad delivered newspapers using a Plymouth Voyager and one day had two strippers in the backseat bagging newspapers for him as he drove.
I was a mini van owner when my 4 kids were younger! All hail the glorious Mini Van!!
Reminder: PLEASE write the story about how your dad delivered newspapers using a Plymouth Voyager and one day had two strippers in the backseat bagging newspapers for him as he drove. TOO GOOD, MUST KNOW.