Suburban Uber Alles

During the last few weeks I’ve been traveling to trade shows with co-workers.  It’s not fun, but it’s not terrible either.  While my companions aren’t that annoying, I secretly pick a seat on the flight far, far away from them. Even if it means riding in the middle seat.  After spending a few hours in a 737 Max, the Ford Pinto of the skies, we usually find ourselves hopping in an Uber to our hotel.  This past week we spent a few nights in Dallas, Texas.  Contrary to what you may have heard, not everything is bigger in Texas. Especially the Ubers.  The Dallas-Fort Worth Airport, however, is freaking massive.  Allegedly the DFW airport property is the size of Manhattan. Based on what I saw from seat 23B on JetBlue I believe it.  

Believe it or not, only one person in my company is capable of making any of these 2 to 3 day trips with only carry on luggage. Which is obnoxious. So while my co-workers spend the afternoon at baggage claim, I’m finding us a ride to the Motel de Wherever as I waltz by them all.  Performing this task has brought me to a very clear conclusion about passenger vehicles with third row seating…They are all a joke!  With one exception.   

If you need to move three post-pubescent people and baggage, very few cars are up for the task.  Since my personal trainer and I are working on flexibility and I weigh a whopping 155 pounds, I’m the go-to 3rd row passenger on company trips.  I’ve become a connoisseur of third row seats and it’s clear the third row is where manufacturers want your least favorite child (or co-worker) to sit.  When a gaggle of adults are squeezed inside most three row cars, you better not need to put anything in the trunk.  Why?  That’s because every other three row vehicle I’ve had the “pleasure” of sitting in has zero trunk space when the 3rd row of seats are being used.  When luggage winds up on people's laps for 40+ minutes, things get ugly.

The only exception to this rule is the mighty Chevrolet Suburban and it’s badge engineered stablemates the GMC Yukon XL and Cadillac Escalade ESV.  The Suburban is without a doubt the best people mover ever created that doesn’t require a CDL license to operate.  Everything else doesn’t cut the mustard.  

The Suburban is so great it has been in continuous production since 1938.  Even during that war your grandfather served in.  The one that stopped all automotive production. Except the Suburban, because nothing stops the Suburban, even Nazis.  Since 1967 the Suburban formula hasn’t changed.  Why mess with perfection?  Take a your best selling, light duty, crew cab pick up chassis and slap a huge box for people and their stuff on the back.  It’s so simple it hurts, yet nobody can copy it with success.  Any bigger is just too big.  Case in point: the Ford Excursion.  In 2000 Ford tried to one-up General Motors by turning their F250 Super Duty crew cab pickup into an SUV bigger than the Suburban.  After 5 years, 4 engines, and 2 transmissions, Ford put the Excursion out of it’s misery because it was just too much of a good thing. The sin of gluttony, I suppose.

But what about Tahoes?  What about Expeditions?  Heck, what about mini vans?  Tahoes and Expeditions, despite having 3 rows of seats and being large, are awkwardly short in use.  Rear cargo space is tiny and 3rd row passengers are crammed in just like smaller, wimpier three row SUV’s.  The extra 6 to 8 inches a Suburban has in length over a Tahoe is the secret sauce.  Every mini van I’ve sat in during our Uber trips has left me wanting more, especially Dodge caravans.  Since the proliferation of their "Stow-N-Go" seats, the annoying ones that fold flat into the floor, Dodge Caravan seats are unusable for more than 5 minutes at a time.  They’re basically paper thin, flat, low back seats with tall head rests.  Avoid them at all costs.  

As a cyclist, the bloating of cars on the roads over the years is something I experience every time I go for a ride.  I think a study of the size of the average American’s waistband versus the size of the average American’s car should be done.  It’s exceptionally rare that any single car on the road has more than one or two passengers in it at any given moment, just look around the next time you're in traffic.  America’s over-consumerism of everything is to blame for a plethora of our problems, but I give the Suburban a pass.  Being invented before the whoopee cushion gives it a grandfathered status that's tough to revoke.  Americans' obsession with big cars happened well after the Suburban was perfected.  But just because I give the Suburban a pass doesn’t mean the way you use your Suburban gets a pass, though. Pick the right tool for the job.  Hauling a Pee-Wee Hockey team's starting line up regularly?  You’re good.  Towing your boat and family to the lake every weekend?  Game on.  Riding solo to get groceries every Friday? Fuhgedaboudit.

But if you’re an Uber driver in the vicinity of an airport and a convention center, please be ready to save me with your Suburban. I'll leave you a Five Star rating.