Sometimes changes in a relationship happen dramatically. The most recent change in my marital relationship has happened much more quietly. Even the best changes require a bit of adjustment, a bit of time. I�m still absorbing this one�although I can�t be absolutely sure until tomorrow night that this change has taken place. But I think it has. Mr. Philately and I have bought a car with no fight. We didn�t even have a harsh word between us. The passion has gone out of our car-buying.

For two people who don�t care deeply about cars, we sure have had a lot of fights about cars. We argued over whose car to keep when we moved in together in Brooklyn. We ended up keeping my car because his car had a stick shift and I don�t like driving stick shifts. But that decision wasn�t reached easily. That time, though, I understood. Mr. Philately was being asked to give up the first car he had ever bought new. He�d given that car a name. It was his baby and he had to sell it. We fought, we got over it, and we moved on.

When we moved to Milwaukee, we had to buy a second car. Mr. Philately researched the purchase thoroughly and he took control of the negotiation. I thought he got taken. He knew I thought he got taken. After a little bit, we both knew we had gotten taken. The car was an expensive lemon. But we held on. I thought it was time to sell but Mr. Philately wasn�t sure so I kept driving the horrid, unreliable thing. We fought, we got over it, and we moved on.

When mechanical malpractice killed the Escort that had served us so well in New York, we decided to get a used car. We settled on a Corolla. Mr. Philately researched and researched and decided what that car should cost but it fell to me to look for it. I found Corollas and he rejected them. It felt like bringing gift after gift with none of them being good enough. Then, when we finally found one, I was to negotiate because, he said, I was the better negotiator but it was supposed to be according to his plan. I rebelled and we got a wonderful deal on that Corolla anyway. We fought, we got over it, and we moved on.

Then the lemon needed to go before, long before it should have been time. It was spending more time in the shop than on the road. He knew it. I knew it. But we didn�t know what should replace it. I was out shopping for used cars again. I showed him several models. He couldn�t explain why they were wrong but they didn�t speak to him. I wasn�t even sure what language cars spoke. I found the van and we agree on it. I negotiated again with instructions. We fought, we got over it, and we moved on.

The last time we bought a car, we got rid of the 1986 Corolla for a 1999 Corolla. We agreed on what kind of car, we agreed to let him negotiate, but we argued�with less passion, it�s true�over the timetable. We fought (just a little), we got over it, and we moved on.

This time, he did the research. He got a quote from a local dealer based upon Internet interaction. We got a quote on the trade-in that was a little less than we hope but what we expected. We test-drove a new Camry, we agreed how to finance it, and that was it. No fight, not even a little. No argument. No fuss.

It�s nice having no fight Yet it feels so strange. But I think I could adjust.

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