My wife and I have begun looking for a new car.

Let me clarify that sentence.

First, "begun." The word implies we just got started. But if our lives were a movie, calendar pages would be flying away on seasonal winds.

Next, "new." When we say "new," we may mean "used." What we actually mean is a car different from the one we presently own, which is to say, a car that doesn't stall in traffic.

When it began, our search was fun. Driving new cars, inspecting each one for its appeal and flaws as if we had become Car and Driver writers. "Good suspension." "Tight ride." "Responsive."

But as we trudged from dealership to dealership, things between us turned snappish. "This car bites." "Bites? What do you mean, bites?" "Bites. You know. Bites. As in … bites." "You didn't think it bit last month." "Yeah? Well, it bites now." "I don't know what you want." "I don't know what you want." Silence. "I think I'm beginning to get an idea of what I want." Silence. "Yeah. Me, too."

Eventually, we narrowed our search to two cars. One was a brand-new sedan with a six-disc CD player and a volume control on the steering wheel. The other, a three-year-old station wagon with 55,000 miles and a recall outstanding on it. My heart was with the used wagon.

Here's why. Over the course of our pursuit, we scoured scores of ratings: reliability, gas mileage, resale value. We scrutinized Carfax, examined Edmunds, perused Consumer Reports. We explored manufacturer websites, read newspaper car columns, interrogated friends. And we came to the inescapable conclusion that the single most important thing when considering a car is not its brakes or its engine. It is its sound system.