The Trouble With Cars
Some people love their cars. Everything from the way their car looks, drives, smells, and feels gives them pleasure. These people even take their cars to spas for a detailed cleaning and reconditioning.
Then there are people like me. I don’t like cars. They are a nuisance and an expensive necessity. I have a car to get me to and from work. The closest it’s ever been to having a detailed cleaning was when I was driving with the windows open and there was a sudden downpour.
Cars are complicated. The keys don’t look like real keys anymore. Newer cars talk to you. I don’t like cars that talk. It’s not normal. If something simple goes wrong with the car, a secret tool is required to fix it. Good luck finding one! And if something major goes wrong, get ready to empty your bank account!
My aversion for cars goes back to my very first car. It was a used car. My father chose it because, according to him, “girls” didn’t know what to look for in a car. Personally, I don’t think he knew what to look for in a car either. The one thing I did know was that I didn’t want a blue car. Somewhere I had heard all old-maid school teachers drove blue cars. I was a single teacher at the time. No blue car for me!
I called my car The Blue Knight. It was my savior. I no longer had to depend upon others for rides. It did the job, but within months, I had renamed it to The Blue Knightmare for good reason. If I rolled down the windows, it was a mechanical challenge to roll them up again. If it rained, I had to pull the car alongside the road, get out, lift up the hood, and attach the windshield wiper hose to a pump. Then the paint began to peel and even Earl Scheib Paint & Body couldn’t save the flaky mess. When Phyllis Root wrote Rattle Trap Car, and Jill Barton used the color blue to illustrate the car, I was convinced The Blue Knightmare must have been their inspiration.
About a year ago, my husband decided it was time to replace my ten-year-old van because the electrical system was possessed. Sometimes the car didn’t turn off, the locks locked and unlocked at will, and the gas gage registered empty whether it was full or not. The constant ding, ding, ding was enough to drive anyone down the road to Bonkersville. I chose not to go with my husband to the car dealership because when he shops for cars, he’s a driven man determined to out deal the dealer. I made two simple requests: Buy another van and choose any color but blue. I am now the proud owner of what was advertised as a magnesium van.
If you don’t like cars, what about trucks? Check out Jon Scieszka’s Trucktown series. The little ones will love it.