Alas, my E90 is gone.
Facing the kind of expensive repairs that a car like the E90 will always have to have done to it, I traded it in for something much more practical: an Escape Titanium, which my wife will drive.
It's new. It's nice. It's beautiful. She's happy.
What am I in?
A 2011 Camry XLE, purchased when I had a much longer commute and needed something good on gas that was both comfortable and reliable. At that time, I was worried much less about acceleration and driving dynamics than I was about clutchfoot or getting stranded on I-75.
But it's loaded. So, while I must suffer its braking manners and its inability to hold a line, I can at least enjoy the sunroof, the heated leather seats, and that groovy little drawer for storing coins in the dash. I can also enjoy the ergonomics (well done in this case). But mainly I'll enjoy—by the way of fuel economy, insurance, and cost of ownership—considerable savings. I might not love the Camry, but it's certainly proven that it loves us.
Understand there were no lessons about owning a German car for me to learn from my relationship with the E90, for I'd learned them already from previous cars I'd owned—namely an A6 Avant, a 328xi Sports Wagon, and a GTI. I knew, therefore, that to be a successful German auto enthusiast you needed to be loaded, somewhat selfish, or have fewer mouths to feed. I'm not any of these, yet this time the thrill of the vehicle, and thoughts of becoming one of those guys in the Petrolicious movies who drives a forty-year-old, well-maintained Bimmer, pulled me in.
Was it worth it?
But as it is with love, the next high-end car I own will have to love me back. That means it's probably going to be an Italian.