A light-hearted note: Do you resemble your car? …
Someone asked me recently if I was like the cars I’ve owned. Whether they meant, did I look like my car, or was my personality like my car, I’m not sure.
Either way, my answer is, “I hope not!” Because you see…throughout my life, most of my cars have been pitiful.
It started with one of my first cars, an old 1963 Mercury Monterrey. My parents paid an exorbitant $100 for it. The thing was like a tank—a huge ugly Cadillac gone wrong. It literally had clothes pins and rope that held the steering wheel together. The thing rumbled so loud it announced my arrival to every event I attended. One particularly memorable reaction to my car was…a friend and I arrived at school one day, climbed out of my car only to have a guy laugh so hard I thought he was going to fall on the ground.
I kept the car my freshmen year in college where I attended Central Texas College for one year. The commute to campus required me to drive six miles to class. Unfortunately, the car would only go about 45 miles an hour, so I pushed the gas petal to the floor and drove on the side of the road to get out of people’s way. I risked my life every time I pulled out into traffic from a side road. (Not really, but almost.)
When I married, I hoped things would improve in the area of cars. But low and behold, I married someone who doesn’t know when a car is legally dead. If the contraption can roll down a hill, then it must be okay. Don’t feel too sorry for me. I didn’t have to use the Mercury Monterrey. (o:
This is what a 1963 Mercury Monterrey looks like…
…keep in mind—this is in better shape than my car. (o:
In high school, did you have a car as “fun” as mine?
~ Inspiring Dreams ~