Topic 75: Automobile Society

Carol:

Take Me for a Ride in Your Car, Car

According to the statistics, we are a typical American family that owns four automobiles, which is 35% of American households. Of that 35%, we are also in the majority because one of our vehicles is a truck, and since it was “pre-owned,” we are now in the 70% of that original 35%. (source: autospies.com). So, we are trendy members of the American automobile society. 
 

The Maxima has given us  two hundred thousand miles of reliable  transportation.  Marc bought it for a business deduction in Phoenix on a sweltering hot day.  My frustration level began to rise with the temperature after Marc started haggling on the price. Negotiations took two hours, and I was only inside the air-conditioned dealership for about half the haggle. Eventually, Marc replaced the Maxima, so it passed down to me. 
 

The Passat is our second sedan, the next business deduction after the Maxima.  I resented this car for a long time because he traded in my Subaru Forester for the Passat while I was out of town. I had been hearing the “P” word for months, and my frustration level began to rise with every  conversation about the pros and cons of Passats. The purchase was inevitable, but it was sneaky to sell my beautiful green Forester behind my back.  Marc eventually replaced the Passat, so it passed down to me. Megan got the Maxima.
 

The  Nissan pick-up truck? Marc bought it used on E-Bay, and it kind of feels like being inside a tin can. Its only problem appears to be that it mysteriously locks itself sometimes when “someone” leaves the engine running while he hops out to take care of a quick errand. My frustration began to rise the third time I got a call to meet that “someone” with the extra keys,  this time at the video store where the truck was blocking three parking spaces -- engine running, radio blaring, and the doors locked.  Marc tried to give Megan the truck, but the seat release was stuck and she couldn’t reach the pedals. So, Megan kept the Maxima.
 

The Altima Hybrid electric is our newest purchase, Marc’s latest and probably last business deduction. He assured me there is no way this “smart car” will let him lock the key inside the car, but the Altima isn’t smart enough to signal “someone” who drove into the parking garage, locked the car and took the key with him, only to return four hours later and find he had forgotten to turn off the engine.  I have driven the Altima, but my frustration level began to rise  when I was switching between the standard-shift pick-up, the automatic Passat with the remote unlock, and the Hybrid with an electronic key that stays in your pocket.
Marc is seriously talking the R word, which usually means down-sizing. He talks about selling the truck, but what will he use to haul the kayak, go to the dump, or find a new home for the pack rat he caught in the “Have a Heart Trap”? Not the Altima, not my Passat, not Megan’s Maxima.
 

Down-sizing? I have a suggestion. It’s in the garage, too. In fact, it’s parked right between the Altima and the Passat.  I used to get frustrated trying to maneuver my Passat exactly into position so that I can open the door without hitting the BMW motorcycle, leave enough room at the front to get the laundry room door open and enough room at the back to get the garage door closed. I have a suggestion, but it might lead to the D word. And besides, I’m retired. I’m mellow. I don’t get frustrated anymore. 

You can never have too many cars -- or keys.

Megan:

I have to make this quick because I’m meeting a friend in 45 minutes, and it takes 15 minutes to drive to her house but I have to allow an extra 15 minutes for getting lost.  In England, even though I had a car, I walked most places and I think that was better. I didn’t get so distracted that I made a wrong turn because although walking was slower, everything else was closer together. One time I was texting while walking and I walked into an electrical pole, which was embarrassing but not dangerous to myself or others – so I don’t text when I drive.

The other reasons why walking is better than driving are obvious – good for environment, good for self.  Over there, I drove to work because 3 miles is a long way to walk in pouring rain but there were a few times when I left the car at home. Actually twice. I walked there twice. The first time wasn’t so bad, the second was never again—I had a hole in the bottom of my shoe and the road was wet so my shoe filled up with water and was sort of slapping on the pavement and no one stopped to pick me up even though I got a couple of waves from people who knew me. 

Being back in Prescott (or rather 5 miles outside of Prescott) means a lot more driving. When I was growing up, I felt marooned out here in the summers sometimes because my mother didn’t jump at every chance to get in the car to drive me into town (my dad might have, but he was already in town at work). One time I was invited to a friend’s house about 3 miles away, no one would give me a ride, so I hopped on my bicycle forgetting that it was 3 miles uphill. Walking would have been faster, because that’s what I ended up having to do … but I was pushing the bike and it was really hot. It took me 2.5 hours to get there, and at some point the super-padded bike seat had ruptured and I had black goo all over my butt. No one noticed right away because I was wearing black jeans, but I left a black butt print on every thing I sat on. That’s why bikes are bad. Plus a drunk driver hit my dad on his bike (dad on bike, not drunk guy).  So, we are limited to using the car to get into town.

Once in town, I try to park in one place and walk around for all my errands, which make sense, but you wouldn’t believe how many people get in the car and drive two blocks. Or maybe you can. There are places in this country where people don’t drive everywhere New York, San Francisco and Portland are the only ones I can think of, and Portland is the only place I could afford to live (if I ever find a job).  Anyway, this essay makes pretty much no sense, but I’m about out of time. Once I get to my friend’s house we are leaving my car and taking hers to the mall for some last minute Christmas shopping. In case you were wondering.