"I love my car
I'll admit today I've gone too far
To enamour myself of my little motor car"
-belle & sebastian, "I Love My Car"
Q: What's big and round and shiny and blue like a robin's egg and often goes topless?
A: My absolute new true love
I picked her up as a 30th birthday gift to myself. (Dear reader -- does this suggest that I'm in the midst of a mid-life crisis?!) I traded in my blue '98 hard-top Beetle (we had met when she was a debutante -- shiny and brand new -- almost exactly 6 years ago in Rhode Island on a spring day), and found my absolute new true love. She's a robin's egg blue Turbo convertible with a black top and leather heated seats.
You must be thinking -- "Are you insane?! You've endlessly complained in long, colorful prose on this very website about the problems with your original Beetle!"
It's true that my first Beetle (chosen by a giddy, love-struck 24-year-old, if you can bring yourself to imagine that I was ever so silly and head-strong) exploded that time in Los Angeles (the mechanics at the time said it was "a bad battery"), and it's also true that she stalled out completely dead in the middle of 35 mile-per-hour traffic on Dolores Street last November (this time the mechanics said it was "a defective fuel filter").
Sure, you could say that she "had some problems." But in her defense -- she was a debut model. Her look was distinctive -- retro and yet ultra-modern. She was so smooth and curvy and beautiful that you can forgive her for exhibiting a few "issues" over the years -- can't you? I mean, she had style and grace and an utterly unique look -- you can allow her to have an occasional existensial crisis, right? Like most gals with strong personalities, she could be difficult, demanding, and even perhaps "high-maintenance."
From those initial -- now embarrassingly gushing -- sweet nothings I uttered at first sight, to the extreme torment and misery I felt years later when experiencing her unpredictable malfunctions -- she and I had a long, intense, always passionate relationship.
But let's not forget the good times we had together. In August 2001, we drove south to the Black Rock desert of Nevada and camped out on the dusty playa at Burning Man even though her power window motors at the time had malfunctioned and the windows were stuck completely open for the entire week in the desert. Oh, you wouldn't understand how it felt unless you have driven through the Nevada desert in the summertime without air conditioning, not even able to listen to music because of the hot air rushing through her dust-covered interior. For the 4th of July weekend in 2002, we drove up north to Klickitat, Washington and enjoyed the lovely views of Mount Hood as we camped on a grassy hill at The Phoenix Festival.
Yes, she and I spent 94,000 miles exploring America together. We've been to Los Angeles, San Diego, Santa Barbara, Portland, Seattle, Santa Cruz, Boston, and Brooklyn, New York. We've gone together to music festivals, weddings, and late night impromptu trips to Ocean Beach for bonfires. And on Saturday I coldly and unceremoniously traded her in to a shark-like car dealer in Daly City for Kelly Blue Book value. I was such a heartless bitch.
But oh how I love my shiny new one and her luscious leather heated seats. It feels so amazing to be inside her -- so warm and soothing. Yikes, I must sound like a middle aged man describing intimate details about his sex life in his second marriage to a younger, prettier wife. This is dirty and so WRONG.
I'm utterly certain that this time she will be everything I want her to be. This time, she will be everything and MORE! We will do it all the right way this time. I promise to be so attentive. I'll take her in for all her scheduled maintenance and bathe her at least once a month and always check and change the oil when she needs it. And this one will love me and treat me right... ALWAYS and FOREVER.
It isn't wrong to hope, is it?
posted by Jess at 7:34 AM
<< Home