I feel very restricted by the internet today. What I really want to do is jump out from behind a door and yell, “HEY! I HAVE ALL KINDS OF SHIT TO TELL YOU!” I’d have a giant creepy grin on my face and it would scare you so bad you’d pee a little, and we’d laugh….and laugh….
If you’re a follower to my blog, you might be asking yourself right now, WTF? Am I on the right site? Rest easy. I just changed themes. I got blog envy and decided to spruce things up a bit. I know, risky move, but I’m a young blog so I figured better now than later, right? This is THE ONE though. I won’t switch things up on ya again. Welcome to my new home. Settle in. Take your shoes off. Of course you can put your feet on the coffee table. Here’s a cheese plate. Wine? Certainly. Red okay?
Now back to our regularly scheduled program…
I was thinking the other day how cars fit our personalities. Not everyone’s I guess, but most people’s. Some choices are purely practical and based on needs. Others pick cars based on how they picture themselves, e.g. rugged and outdoorsy, or efficient, or sporty. Some are chosen based on how you want to be perceived. You pick your color, interior, engine size, 2wd/4wd, SUV, Sedan, hybrid, foreign, domestic, new, used…we all have our fit. And more importantly, they almost all have names.
The first car I ever drove was a purple VW Bug. It had sparkles in the paint and a moon roof. It was FREAKIN’ AWESOME. It was technically my dad’s car – on loan to him through the dealership he worked at or something like that, so I only drove it for about four months during my senior year of HS, but DANG it was cool. I named it Beethoven because
I was a nerd and loved classical music it deserved a bad-ass name.
After HS, I borrowed $1,000 from my Grandma and bought a used, yellow VW rabbit named Wolfgang. I drove that car into the ground – until it had to be towed away about three years later. There were a handful of junkers in my twenties that got me from class to class, and waitress job to waitress job, but they’re hardly worth mentioning. A mirror of the state of my life at the time. Then I met this cute guy who liked to take me to hockey games and tolerated my
eight three cats. Not long into our relationship I acquired a red Jeep Cherokee named, aptly, Redman – this name chosen for the Redman tobacco my Grandpa used to chew.
Then I graduated college and married that cute guy. The first car I got to buy NEW and pick out all on my own was a silver 4-runner. I liked it because it reminded me of an elephant. Even the side view mirrors were huge like ears. I named it Modoc after, well, Modoc: The true story of the greatest elephant that ever lived, by Ralph Helfer. Over the years (and two kids) Modoc got handed down to my hubs and now I’m driving a black Sequoya that he picked out. Even though I didn’t choose it, I knew the Universe assigned it to me when I saw the license plate. Hand to God, the last three letters are WTF. What are the odds? How perfect is that? This SUV is big, mean, and named Leroy Brown, after the Jim Croce song of the same name. Why? Because he’s the baddest man in the whole damn town; badder than old King Kong, meaner than a junkyard dog.
What is your car? What was your thought process buying it? How is it like you, or not like you? Most important: what is its name?? I LOVE hearing from you!