#MondayMileageMidget

If I ever opened up a financial consulting business in Boca Raton, I wouldn’t do it for the money.

I would do it for the cars.

Forget about paying me a fee. Just will to me your cherry, top of the line ride. I’ll invest your money without ever churning that portfolio. Honest. I’ll leave that to the Goldman Sachs office that’s a few doors down from my more modest digs.

As my silent partner Joe Isuzu would say, “You have my word on it.”

Now Mr. Investor! Let’s start with some well chosen divestitures!

Today’s edition of Monday Mileage Midget is brought to you by the state of Florida.

Palm trees. Retirement communities. Traffic signals and double yellow lines that are treated as mere suggestions. Florida has become an economic juggernaut thanks in large part to cheap housing, plenty of sunshine, and legal loopholes that allow well deserving retirees and unethical douchebags to live on the cheap.

There is one other unusual reality benefit of living in Florida… low mileage cars.

Let’s say you had to move out of the country. Forever.

There are only so many things you can take with you. A few pieces of furniture. Family albums. Your antique collection of 1970’s beer bottles.

The play car you rarely drive… has to be ditched. So you unload it at a nearby dealership and hope for the best.

Not too long ago (but in a galaxy far, far away) I wrote about the deals you can get on unpopular new cars that have brand new replacements waiting in the wings.

Today we’ll examine what happens when those vehicles fall off the depreciation cliff. Again.

11,285 miles. Or maybe not?

This 12 year old minivan graced a fairly large audience of dealers that were long dog tired of all the minivans that were passing through. There were green ones that were as unloved as they were large. Purple ones that dated back all the way back to the Y2K era and the peak of minivan mania. A red one that came in an unsellable three door version.

Then there was this one.