One of the questions I get asked most often isn't on the radio show.
It's not in an email.
It's not even at one of my events.
It's when a friend calls and says, "Jerry, what should I buy?"
After all these years in the automobile business, people assume I have a list of favorite vehicles that I automatically recommend. The truth is, I almost never start by talking about a vehicle at all.
Instead, I start asking questions.
What are you driving now?
What do you like about it?
What don't you like about it?
How long do you typically keep a vehicle?
What has changed in your life since you bought the one you're driving today?
Most people are surprised by those questions because they expect me to immediately tell them to buy a certain truck, SUV, or sedan. But I've learned something over the years: choosing the right vehicle has a lot less to do with the badge on the hood and a lot more to do with understanding how someone actually lives.
I've seen people buy giant SUVs because they were planning for the three times a year the grandkids might visit. I've seen people buy heavy-duty pickup trucks because they thought they might buy a travel trailer someday. I've seen people sacrifice fuel economy, comfort, ride quality, and thousands of dollars because they were shopping for a life they imagined instead of the life they were actually living.
One of the first things I tell friends is to buy for 95 percent of their life, not the other five percent.
If you occasionally haul six passengers, you can rent something larger. If you tow a trailer once a year, there may be a better solution than driving a three-quarter-ton diesel pickup every day. Yet people routinely buy vehicles based on rare events instead of their everyday routine, and years later they're still paying the price in fuel costs, insurance premiums, tire replacements, and depreciation.
Another thing I always tell friends is that I don't care how many reviews they've read or how many YouTube videos they've watched. At some point, they need to get behind the wheel and drive the vehicle themselves. There is just no substitute for that.
I've reviewed vehicles professionally for decades, and I can tell you that no reviewer, no website, and certainly no artificial intelligence can tell you how a vehicle is going to feel to you.
I've driven vehicles that were universally praised by the automotive press that I wouldn't personally own, and I've driven vehicles that received only modest attention but fit certain buyers perfectly. Comfort, visibility, seating position, ease of entry, ride quality, control layout, and overall feel are things that simply cannot be measured by a rating system.
That's especially true as we get older.
One thing I've noticed over the years is that buyers spend a tremendous amount of time talking about horsepower, towing capacity, and technology, but not nearly enough time talking about comfort. Yet when someone has owned a vehicle for five or six years, comfort is usually one of the first things they mention.
Can you get in and out of it easily?
Can you see well in all directions?
Do the seats remain comfortable after several hours behind the wheel?
Can you reach the controls without taking your eyes off the road?
Those things matter a lot more than most people realize while they're standing in a showroom.
I also encourage friends to focus on the features they'll use every single day rather than the ones that simply sound impressive. Over the years, I've found that some of the most appreciated features are often the least glamorous. Adaptive cruise control, blind-spot monitoring, a heated steering wheel, memory seats, a power liftgate, or a good surround-view camera system will improve your ownership experience far more often than some expensive option package designed primarily to impress your neighbors.
Speaking of neighbors, that's another piece of advice I freely give: stop worrying about what everyone else is driving.
Some of the worst vehicle decisions I've ever seen were made because someone wanted to keep up with a friend, impress a coworker, or drive what everyone else in the neighborhood was driving. The best vehicle in America is the one that fits your needs, your budget, and your lifestyle—not somebody else's.
And perhaps the most important thing I tell friends is this: stop obsessing over getting the perfect deal.
I've watched people spend weeks chasing an extra few hundred dollars while completely losing sight of the vehicle itself. A vehicle is something you'll likely own for years. The right vehicle at a fair price is almost always a better decision than the wrong vehicle at a great price.
After spending a lifetime helping people buy vehicles, the advice I give my friends really isn't complicated. Buy for the life you're living, not the one you're imagining. Drive before you buy. Prioritize comfort. Choose features you'll actually use. Ignore what the neighbors think. And remember that your goal isn't to find the perfect vehicle.
Your goal is to find the right vehicle for you.