What happens when your dream car becomes the most polarising vehicle in the country? I fell in love with the Cybertruck when Tesla founder Elon Musk unveiled the design. The engineering impressed me, and it fit my needs perfectly. As a triathlon enthusiast, I needed a pickup truck to haul my gear after training. The supervised full self-driving mode was ideal for my tired body and mind after long workdays or tough sessions.
Then the political climate shifted. Musk went from hero to villain for half the country. News reports of damaged Tesla cars were disconcerting, but the bigger issue was my family’s reaction. My son thought it looked like a trash can on wheels. My wife swore she would never be seen in it. Friends called, imploring me to buy anything but “that monstrosity”.
Who am I politically? I’m a first-generation immigrant who is socially liberal and fiscally conservative — both parties can appeal to me. My family spans the political spectrum, and I am proud of our differences. I admire Musk’s technological prowess, even if I don’t entirely agree with his political approach.
My automotive journey has spanned the spectrum. Growing up on an isolated tobacco farm in India, our first automobile was a motorbike. Dad had me sitting on the fuel tank, while mother carried my brother. As we grew, we used crowded buses to reach the nearest village, then walked home for two kilometres. We hitchhiked on trucks, tractors, and bullock carts. My cousin reminded me that once I went to boarding school, I refused to ride the bullock cart as it wasn’t cool, preferring to walk. Our first car was a worn-down Ambassador — life-transforming for us. I was never fascinated with luxury brands; cars served one purpose: transportation. In America, an uncle gave me an old Mazda during residency training. Then I bought my first car: a Nissan Altima that lasted eight years through Buffalo and Chicago winters. When my junior physicians ribbed me about my old car, I impulsively bought an Infiniti FX SUV. After test-driving it in the hospital parking garage with a colleague, tires squealing, he delivered one of his one-liners: “Money does buy happiness.”
When Musk announced his electric revolution, the world and I laughed. When a colleague first took me for a Tesla drive, I grasped the massive technological leap. Still, I waited for an electric SUV.
I tried liking other electric trucks to appease my circle, but Every sighting of the Cybertruck made my heart skip a beat. Taking my sceptical daughter for a test drive, we both fell head over heels for it. The car drove us to dinner — I never touched the wheel.
The full self-driving (FSD) data is fascinating. Average Americans drive 700,000 lifetime miles. Tesla FSD has logged 3.6 billion miles. Imagine an experienced driver who never drinks, never tires, never gets nagged by the spouse. My FSD experience has been exceptional, even in weather when I couldn’t see lanes. It follows rules, navigates roundabouts brilliantly, and parks better than I do. Human reaction time averages 250 milliseconds; FSD is 2.5 times faster. Musk’s plan for unsupervised self-driving in Austin could eliminate drunk driving and help elderly and disabled people get around.
After a family trip to Orlando — the car driving both ways —, my wife grudgingly acknowledged the technological marvel. We are now the quintessential American family: Democrats, Republicans, Independents, an apolitical dog, and a Cybertruck.
dinarab@yahoo.com
