Title & Trim Begins: Two Cars, Zero Illusions

Before I start telling you what to buy—or, more importantly, what to avoid—I should probably tell you what’s parked in my own garage.

No automaker press cars. No track days, sponsored by famous tire companies (please invite me). Just two real-world cars, bought with hard-earned money, maintained religiously, and driven through the glamorous grind of Costco runs, road trips, and world-renowned metro-Atlanta traffic.

So, here it is: my current fleet.

2016 Acura TLX V6 Advance: my first “adult” car.
2021 Toyota Highlander Platinum AWD: my wife’s family chariot and our rolling fortress of solitude.

Two totally different vehicles, with one important theme: no BS, just real ownership.

Let’s dig in.

2016 Acura TLX V6 Advance: “Sporty over Smooth, Reliability over Flash”

Ah, the TLX. I hate to admit it, but for all it’s importance, I never gave the TLX a name. But it’s the car that marked my official transition from college-kid beaters to “I have a job now” respectable transport. I had just landed my first corporate job and could afford to spare about $350 each month. I wanted something with a little zip, a little style, and (ideally) some value. All I had ever driven were sedans, and I wasn’t ready to make the leap into anything bigger yet.

Enter: a Certified Pre-Owned (CPO) Acura TLX V6, purchased for just under $25,000 out the door. It had it all—Acura’s (mostly intact) reputation for reliability, a forgiving 3.5-liter V6, front-wheel drive (I live in the South), and the top-trim Advance Package, which came loaded with tech and features I never had before. Adaptive cruise control? Lane-keep assist? TWO infotainment screens?! I thought I was piloting a fighter jet—the SOS button is enclosed with a cover that has to be flipped down to access.

Honestly, after nearly 10 years (7 of which were under my care), it’s held up. I just crossed the 100,000-mile mark and the thing still runs like it’s under manufacturer warranty. That’s mostly because I’ve serviced it religiously at my local Acura dealership—not because I enjoy dealership lobbies and their stale coffee and expired chips, but because I like consistent records and I don’t have to wonder if Kevin at Jiffy Lube tightened the oil filter properly or just whispered words of encouragement at it. Without any hesitation or delay, Acura took care of the only major recall on my TLX to-date—a defect in the engine crankshaft causing premature wear and seizing of the connecting rod bearings.

The car rides well, still looks decent compared to some new cars out there, and returns solid fuel economy (on average 36 highway, <23 city). The V6 still pulls nicely when you floor it, especially in Sport or Sport+ Mode—which, granted, is rare because insurance premiums and a passenger princess exist. But let’s not dodge the elephant in the transmission tunnel…

The ZF 9-Speed: A Mood Ring in Gearbox Form

Ask most first-gen TLX V6 owners about the transmission and they’ll tell you, “It’s not a big deal”. I disagree! Sport Mode sounded cool… until I realized my passengers were getting whiplash. This is the same transmission found in everything from Land Rovers to Fiats, which explains why it behaves like it’s confused about which car it woke up in. Downshifts are hesitant. Low-speed creeping is clunky. Occasionally, it’ll shift correctly and you’ll think, “Maybe it’s fixed?” It’s not. It’s just gaslighting you.

Even Bruce—my longtime mechanic and automotive truth-teller—warned me: “You should go with a ES350 (Lexus), instead of the TLX. You’ve been spoiled with Toyotas, you’ll miss the comfort if you switch.”

But I was in my early twenties. The Acura had paddle shifters! You can do the math.

Would I make the same choice today? Probably not. But I also don’t regret it. This car has been solid, surprisingly efficient, and never made me wish I had gone with something from the Germans.

2021 Toyota Highlander Platinum AWD: “The Last V6 Family Hauler Standing”

If my TLX was a coming-of-age car, the Highlander, who we named Heidi, was a seasoned decision made after test drives, spreadsheets, and mutual marital compromise. (We all know who actually decided.)

After pleading with my wife to go through the countless three-row SUVs on the market—CX-90, Armada, 4Runner, a brief flirtation with a QX60, and more—we landed on the Highlander. Why?

Because 2021 was the last year Toyota offered their well-tested, naturally aspirated V6 in this segment. While I want to believe that Toyota knows what they’re doing when they build turbos, their recent fumble with the Tundra, Sequoia, and Tacoma engines makes me nervous.

We bought it used, CPO-ed, and yes, this part is real: it was previously leased by the dealership’s lead mechanic’s wife.

It’s the Platinum trim, so it has everything. Ventilated seats. Panoramic moonroof. Bird’s-eye-view cameras. A head-up display that makes me feel like I’m in a racing game when I’m on the highway.

Of course, all of this came at a price—what some lovingly (or bitterly) call the “Toyota Tax.” Thanks to their legendary resale value, don’t be shocked when you see four-year-old Highlanders listed for 75% of their original MSRP, still wearing dreams of $5,000 pandemic-markups. And the higher the trim, the scarcer they get. I’m not diving into the dollar-for-dollar breakdown here, because trust me—I’ve got an entire post worth reading on the absurd modern car-buying experience: where 7% interest rates feel like a win and $750-a-month payments are pitched as “competitive.”

But I digress. Back to Heidi the Highlander.

Is it exciting? No.

Is it impressive? Depends who you ask.

But is it utterly unshakeable in the way a family SUV should be? Absolutely!

It’s quiet, smooth, refined, and 7 months in it has never so much as hiccuped. In fact, the only issue we’ve had so far is me, curbing two wheels because I keep forgetting I’m piloting a midsize aircraft carrier.

Why These Cars? And Why This Blog?

I didn’t buy these cars to make a statement. I bought them because they made sense—in terms of value, reliability, long-term costs, and the fact that I don’t have three hours a month to hang out at the dealership lounge drinking burnt coffee while my car learns how to idle again.

Both cars were made by Japanese manufacturers. That’s not a coincidence. I value engineering over flash, consistency over hype, and resale value over novelty.

And that’s what Title & Trim is all about:

• Cutting through the noise.
• Saying the quiet part out loud.
• Owning the cars you actually might own—not just the ones with Nürburgring lap times and launch control.

There’s a lot I plan to dig into on this blog—from why hybrids (and not EVs) are the unsung heroes of modern motoring, to whether or not the new U.S.-market Land Cruisers (Prado) will be respected the way prior generations have.

But it starts here—with these two cars, this garage, and a promise:

No illusions. Just honest, hard-earned perspective.

Let’s get rolling.