Sorry I've treated you so badly. You know, we met only a short time ago, and I felt like I've used you without giving you the proper thanks. I know I treated the others differently, photographing them often during various travels. Heck, taking a picture of them was often the first thing I'd do after bringing a new one home. You've been great, probably one of the best I've ever had. And so I hope you will forgive me.
OK, this isn't really my car. I did recently buy a Subaru wagon, but it's newer. And a lot less green. I saw this one a few weeks ago and couldn't resist taking a picture (I've smudged the license plate to protect the dedicated and beleagured owner).
I drove my previous car for eight years, so you'd think it would be a red-letter day when that poor thing got replaced. My photo-taking started not only as being proud of new acquisitions (and I mean even my first car, which was not much to be proud of), but as a snapshot in time. A car doesn't necessarily make a trip, but because it's such an incredibly large part of any road excursion it can't help but become important to us. Even somewhat human (on a quasi-Herbie the Love Bug sort of way). At the least, my cars have taken me to school or work on a daily basis. Hard not to form some kind of relationship.
My parents took photos of travels, and sometimes the car du jour took center stage, or stage left or right, in the documentation. We took a few photos on our way to and from picking up my grandfather's boat in Virginia. One of my favorites is during a stop on the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, and the Petite Filet was looking pretty fine as she stood atop the then-empty boat trailer. Further back, when we took our first road trip together to Carlsbad, New Mexico, a photo we took after we returned to Lubbock was of the two of us sitting on the tailgate of my truck, looking tired but content. Surviving a road trip says a lot about the future of a relationship. Here we are nearly seven years later.
Driving can sometimes be a pain. Traffic is getting worse. Gas prices got pretty high not too long ago. Buying and keeping a car isn't a cheap prospect, for that matter. Pollution kept many of us indoors during some of the worst "ozone alert" days here. Yet somehow, the romanticism of the open road's promise can't be completely extinguished. It's the possibilities, the journey, the destination and the memories we build. In a way it's also about the car.
For those of you hitting the road (or the wild blue yonder) this holiday season, don't forget to pack your sense of humor. Be careful. Be courteous. Be yourself.
OK, so here's a pretty pathetic picture of my car I just took with the crummy camera. She's dirty and locked in the garage, but it's a start. You'll notice my old bicycle on the back wall. If it could talk, it could tell you some stories of beaches, sunsets, suburban streets, urban warfare and roads most taken. Some other time, maybe.
Your Subaru is way cooler than the first one. But the other one has a strange appeal. It's like ugly hot. Something makes me keep looking at it. And then, wanting to possess it and call it my own...
You are right on target about how cars can become almost human. I still can't bring myself to get rid of my old car from high school. There are so many memories and she (her name is Margarita -- because she is a spicy gal) and I have a bond... we've been through too much to just walk away now. She still runs quite well, but only for me. Anyone else that drives her ends up stranded someplace with some unknown problem and when I get there and tinker for just a moment, then give her some love pats on the dashboard, she purrs like a kitten for me. On nice days I take her out for a spin, windows down, petal to the metal, baby.
... I know that the good times and memories woult disappear if she weren't around anymore, but I like the reminder.
Sure, I may be too attached, but that has to be better than having no attachment at all, right?
P.S. I really like your writing style... I'm not sure what exactly but something about it just appeals to me.
Happy Thanksgiving!
I've purchased a new car 3 times in my life. Each time I've needed some "alone time" with my old car because I've felt so guilty abandoning it!