An Ode to the Ford Focus
When I started my senior year of high school, my dad got his Tesla Model S and I received his old car, a white 2012 Ford Focus. I’ve had it for roughly 6 years now, during which I’ve probably driven around 70,000 miles or so in it.
Most people view cars as an appliance to get them from A to B - usually, a tool used for the daily commute, something to handle going to work or moving kids around, hauling groceries, transporting stuff. For some, cars can showcase your success (or your financial illiteracy and the surprising/alarming ease with which you can get a 84 month loan), though I must note that by and large, rappers do not talk very much about the Ford Focus [1]. Cars are often romanticized as a key to freedom - the road trip, of course, is an integral part of American culture, something that only grew more popular during the COVID pandemic. My car is a tool that I’ve used well over the years - I’ve driven to school/work and back home, I’ve gone on several HEB runs where I stuffed the trunk, I’ve traversed Oil Country to reach White Sands and Caprock Canyons, and traversed cities for food and fun.
To be clear, I have basically the nicest version that one could have of a Ford Focus. It’s Titanium trim with a few goodies, which means I have a car from 2012 that can parallel park itself (I will probably never buy a car that doesn’t have front and rear parking sensors). The seats are easy to wipe down and vacuum dog hair off of, Bluetooth + a car mount is basically all I actually need for infotainment. It gets decent gas mileage and has mostly been trouble-free: the transmission problems that seem to have plagued the third generation Focus have killed my resale value, but not my faith it that can get me where I need to go. It also drives like a charm — seriously, it drives really well - it’s impressive how much fun you can have driving this thing around. It’s nice and small, and it handles confidently. Car and Driver included it in their 10Best list for 2012 and 2013 for a reason.
Perhaps the most enjoyable thing about owning my car over the years is the feeling I get of owning something that is mine. Granted, from a legal standpoint, it’s still in my father’s name, and I didn’t actually ever pay him for it. But when it comes to doing even basic maintenance, you start to feel some pride and joy from learning how everything functions, from doing the work yourself and getting a few grease stains and “oh shit” moments when you jack up the car in the wrong place.
Perhaps you think that this post is dumb, or naive. This kid likes a Focus? How cute. Perhaps it’s more Who cares about cars? They’re just four wheels and a box. But I’ve loved my car, and I’ve loved the freedom it brought me, and I’ve taken pride over the years in keeping it well.
[1] There actually was a song that I listened to several times with the lyrics “backseat of the Focus”, which did throw me a bit off guard.