While thinking about purchasing a small car for my retirement, I couldn’t help but wonder if an electric vehicle would be right for me.  I did some reading online.  I did some searching.  I saw dozens of ads on my social media feeds for various vehicles.  I contacted VW dealers to find their heavily-promoted lease deal – and as you might expect, no vehicles matching the advertisement terms actually physically existed on a lot.  So much for advertising.  Dare I say “bait and switch?”

I decided to test drive a Tesla one Saturday.  That was an experience.  Our local dealer is much like an austere modern hotel lobby, with airport-like furniture, a welcome desk, coffee pod service, and three vehicles to see.  With my appointment, I was able to jump into a Tesla in a few minutes of consultation from the consultant and see what all the excitement was about.

Let me tell you, Teslas are different.  The style, the interior, the controls, the touchscreen, and the performance are all beyond the norm.  I think that’s what Tesla wants—to be what I need, rather than what I expect.  Zooming up an on-ramp, the dual motors brought me to extra-legal speed in complete silence.  The cameras were amazing, presenting a new real-time view of my surroundings.  

I checked on the Tesla insurance cost, with my independent agent.  At my age, with my driving record, I expected a reasonable rate.  I was glad to be sitting down at my computer when the quote came in.  Three times the annual insurance cost of The Big White Truck or the Lexus RX350.  Gee whiz!  I keystroked all the figures into a spreadsheet (yes, I still use Excel spreadsheets even though I’m retired) to see what the monthly cost might be, for all of it.  Lease payment, insurance, and the savings rumored to be possible with an electric vehicle all went into the calculations.  It wasn’t what I expected.

So, with that awareness, that careful study, I returned to the search for a vehicle that would excite my heart.  I found it.  A 2023 MINI Cooper Clubman.  Absolutely perfect.  Sea Island Blue, pale grey interior, 28K miles, factory warranty, extended warranty, new tires…it all made sense.  I wrote the check and drove home with a big smile on my wrinkled face.  No EVs for now.

But, I still wondered about electric vehicles.  Could an electric vehicle work, as an in-town runabout?  Researching travel plans for a trip to Fort Myers, I discovered that Hertz had a Manager’s Mystery Special on EVs.  Only $144 for a long weekend?  Sounded super, and best of all, I could really experience living with the EV.

We flew to Fort Myers, with the all-too-common airline delays.  Leaving RIC was not going as planned.  The AA app dinged time and time again, with new departure times.  We were delayed so long we had only 30 minutes to traipse across CLT to the flight to RSW.  And I thought booking a trip with a two-hour layover for lunch was perfect.  Leave it to AA to make things exciting.

At RSW, at the Hertz lot, I looked for my car.  You know, I’m in the Hertz President’s Circle so I get to walk all the way across the garage to my car just like you. I finally found the EV.  Would it be a Tesla?  Would it be uber-cool?  In the darkness of the garage, we found it.  It wasn’t a Tesla.  Not a VW.  Not a Subaru.  It was a Polestar.  A what?  I know the polestar is the North Star, from my Boy Scout days.  What’s a Polestar vehicle?

Turns out it is a Volvo.  A Volvo?  As I’ve owned seven Volvos it is only fitting that my Manager’s Mystery Special is a Volvo.  There sat a chunky clunky grey ghost of a car.  It didn’t look like my first Volvo, a 1972 station wagon.  At all.

We opened the trunk.  Wait, it isn’t a trunk.  It’s a hatchback.  A hatchback?  That’s a throwback to the late 70’s.  We had hatchbacks then.  I thought we got rid of all those designers.  I guess what goes around comes around.  Into the hatch went the size XL plastic fantastic suitcase I snagged at the local church thrift store.  It was seriously discounted, as the donor had locked it and failed to inform anyone of the combination.  Yes, I can break into a three-dial suitcase lock.  If you see my suitcase, and need to look inside, it’s 460.

And, with the backpacks in the back seat, we endeavored to operate the Polestar.  Might as well have been a Battlestar Galactica (another 70s reference), with absolutely NO helpful instructions.  Thankfully Hertz had placed the typical key fob in the cup holder.  But, instead of an obvious START / STOP switch designation, we saw a round button with the icons for PLAY and PAUSE.  What is this, a cassette tape deck?

I pressed PLAY and the dash came to life.  No sound was heard.  But, we managed to get out of the parking space and to the garage gate attendant.  “Do you want to prepay for your electricity?  Or do you want to bring it back at this level?”  Hmmm.  I always detest how Hertz jacks up your rental cost with unnecessary charges.  “I’ll recharge it myself.”  How hard can that be, I thought.

Thankfully with an unfamiliar car we weren’t in an unfamiliar city.  But, coming to the first stop, the EV’s use of the electric motor to apply a braking force was certainly unfamiliar.  You don’t brake with a separate pedal.  You just let off the “gas pedal.”  I did.  My wife nearly exited the car through the windshield.  I’m lucky she didn’t smack me upside of my head in return for my poor driving.  “It’s the car!  I just…”. “Don’t do that again!”

The Apple CarPlay got us to the hotel, where we backed into a shady spot.  “How do you stop this thing?” I wondered after moving the motion selector (NO actual gears in this car!) to P.  I pressed the PLAY/PAUSE button.  Nothing.  We fiddled with the touch screen icons.  Maybe here?  Indeed, on a touch screen you can shut the car off.  I noted with some curiosity that my energy gauge had dropped from 91% to 81%.  In only fourteen miles?  Let’s see, 10% drop in 14 miles…that would be a range of…not enough!

Checking in, we felt somewhat relieved to be in a normal activity.  But, back out to the Polestar for a ride to a nearby beer and burger joint to meet everyone for a party.  Then to the local hockey game.  No issues with the car, and driving it became more familiar.  I even managed to find a setting for vehicle braking on the touch screen.  Did I want the car to brake like an EV, or like a real car?  With a tap, the braking power dropped and my wife was no longer experiencing the brain-rattling fatigue she enjoyed.  Until I needed to pass someone and stepped on the gas.  Our heads thumped backwards into the headrest with the incredible acceleration of the motor.  “Yes dear, I won’t do that again.”

The next few days were interesting.  The energy gauge continued to drop.  The distance to empty remained reasonable, but the loss of power each mile was notable.  I think gasoline-fueled cars have a non-linear fuel gauge response to combat our natural fear of being stranded, with a slow decline until you get to that last quarter tank.  The EV has a very precise gauge, so you know exactly what you’re up against.  Will I make it there and back?

With the Hertz clerk admonition to return at 90%, I had to learn how to recharge before the last minute.  We had no idea how long it would take to recharge, how much money it would cost, etc.  So we looked for EV charging stations, and found one near the mall.  Perfect.  Not really.  Tesla had taken over the entire complex, and you needed a Tesla account and app and all that goes with it.  Several minutes later, the recharger still had not recognized me as a human being with money, so we moved on with some frustration.  I’m sure if we were driving a Tesla it would be trouble-free.  But, absent that relationship, it was just a non-starter.

Visiting my stepfather at his retirement center, we discovered a few charging stations there.  Setting up payment there was much simpler.  Much like any purchase, using your iPhone as a credit card.  We stopped at the offices for a short discussion, and returned to the charger to make our next appointment.  There I quickly realized that the charging cable does not just pull out of the charging port jack.  I was stuck.  How do you shut off the charger?  How do you disconnect the cable?  I reached out to the retirement center phone number on the charger.  They didn’t know, and transferred me to the charging company.  I am pretty sure that I was talking around the world to one of those countries specializing in phone help.  His name was Chuck, I think.  Right.  In a few minutes, with his remote access, the charger was stopped.

Now, how to disconnect the cable?  Without any owner’s manual it was back to the touch screen to tap and pray.  Which of the many icons would offer either info or instruction?  There!  The screen had a button to unlock the cable.  Finally.  With a tap, I was able to remove the cable and hang it back up.

Looking at the replenishment over that 15-minute attempt, I realized that truly recharging was going to take time.  More time than I wanted to spend, hooked up to a white box somewhere I didn’t really want to be.

Driving around the uber-flat terrain of Fort Myers, this EV managed to corner with zero body roll.  I don’t think it can roll, as it weighs as much as the entire elephant line at the circus.  Small pavement depressions, cracks, or potholes were massively felt.  Much like in my ¾ ton 6,000 pound pickup truck.

The next day, my “nagivator” had found a Florida Power & Light recharging station near the hotel.  It promised fast charging.  We were the only EV there, and unlike the Tesla station experience, I could easily create an account, hook up the cable, and send electrons to the batteries.  This cable was different than the one at the retirement center.  Big, heavy, and a different end.  Aha!  That’s the high voltage connector…I must remove this plastic cover on the car port.  OK.  Thanks.

And, so we waited.  Being an old married couple, we sat in silence and scrolled our respective social media feeds.  For a long time.  The Polestar screen said we would be there for about an hour to restore to 94%.  No way.  An hour?  After about 32 minutes, I stopped the charger, disconnected the cable, and headed to the mall for some retail therapy.

The rest of our visit went well, and with the time required to recharge now known, we planned our route back to the airport.  Instead of leaving with enough time to fill up a gas tank, maybe five minutes, we had to plan for that 29-minute recharge.  Up early, pack, wolf down a simply horrible breakfast of overcooked powdered eggs, paper thin bacon strips, runny oatmeal, and weak coffee, and head to that recharger.  More scrolling, a bit more conversation, and in time, the gauge read 96%.  Would I be able to make it to the airport consuming only 6% of the battery?  I had no choice but to go, to make the flight.

I spent about $18 on electricity in driving 130 miles around town. That’s not very economical. With a modern car averaging 33 mpg, those same miles would cost only $16. In my 3/4 ton pickup truck, 130 miles is $40, so definite savings in that comparison.

Driving in Florida like an old man, I managed to slow traffic on the interstate, and in so doing, induce a few truck drivers’ road rage.  But, my careful driving, along with aggressive braking to regenerate some power, we rolled into the RSW garage at 90%.  Victory.  I think.  Mission over.

We realized that the EV experience was not what we expected, nor what we hoped.  It was initially exciting for at least one engineer, seeing new technology and gee-whiz features.  Much like seeing that new girl at the bar smile at you, as you think “I can do this, I can buy her a drink, I can talk to her…”. But, after you buy that drink and talk for a while, you realize that her pretty face hides very confusing thoughts, and her long legs and high heels won’t make it very far down the road to your apartment.  I needed a girl wearing a tank top under a checkered shirt, Wranglers and boots made for walking.  Not dancing.

Would I buy an EV?  Could I enjoy an EV?  I suppose so.  Much like any new toy, you have to learn how to use it.  And, you must set up the system for your use.  Without question, a home charger would be required. Overnight recharging would eliminate daily range anxiety.  That expense, though, can be thousands, without manufacturer support.  What charging stations are near me?  Do I need multiple charging company accounts?  The design features, controls, and driving experience of an EV differ from a traditional car, but more importantly, across the EV choices.  Do I want the austere touchscreen only Tesla?  Do I prefer a more traditional setup?  How’s the visibility backing up to the charging station?  Can I carry my super large suitcases to the airport?  Each EV, be it Tesla, Ford, GM, Subaru, VW, or Polestar would have to be evaluated before making a good choice.

For me, for now, I’m still so happy with a simple traditional vehicle.  It has switches, with words on them, or icons that make sense.  I can control the acceleration or braking with my own brain, and judicious pressure on one of two pedals.  The big red switch lever says “START/STOP.”  It’s a station wagon, with room in the back for whatever I need to carry.  It’s perfect.  Just like my 1972 Volvo station wagon.  It’s even blue.