I listened to a radio commercial that promoted a certain motor oil to keep your car happy. Wow, a happy car. Evidently a car runs better when it’s happy. So what is wrong with the car that is stuck on the side of the road? It has a bad attitude. What can you do with a car that has a bad attitude? Just send it to the garage and forget to pick it up. There’s no Sunday drive for you, Betsy!
How many of you have named your car? “Come on Betsy, we can make it to the gas station – don’t give up on me now girl!” I want to know why cars are synonymous with female names instead of male names. What’s wrong with, “Come on Phil, we can make it, don’t give up on me now!” Or how about, “Bob, we’re almost there, don’t stall!” Have you ever met Jaguar Joe?
Since people spend most of their life inside a car, it seems natural to endow that car with animism. I swear that my car was filled with soul and had saved my life more than once. For example, one time I was driving home from Pennsylvania to New Jersey. I left Pennsylvania at 10:00 at night and while on the Pennsylvania Turnpike, the lights on the dashboard started to dim and the engine started to lose power. I chastised myself for leaving at 10:00 at night and prayed, “Just get me home.” Still, I felt that at any moment the car would stall. Finally, I crossed over into New Jersey and felt a little safer. Another hour and a half to go. White knuckles on the steering wheel, I kept praying just to get home. Approaching the last half hour, I got off the highway and took the back route. At least it would be safer if I had to pull over. There were many traffic lights on this road and I feared that if I stopped for a red light, the car would stall and not start again. Amazingly, the traffic lights stayed green the entire route! As I rounded the last block to my house, the engine’s power dwindled. At least breaking down one block from my house would not have been as bad as breaking down on the Pennsylvania or New Jersey Turnpike. My little car kept chugging along. Five houses away, three, two and finally, right in front of my house, my car lost all power. I unglued my hands from the steering wheel and started to cry. It was too surreal. The next day I had my car towed to my mechanic, who replaced the alternator. Considering the situation, my car had a very good attitude.
That incident happened four years ago. At 247,000 miles and with a cracked manifold, I recently sold my car to a mechanic who will fix it inexpensively and use the car for himself. Still, it saddened me to part with my loyal car. It’s just a conglomerate of steel, I kept telling myself. When I handed the keys to the new owner, I told him the Pennsylvania story and then added the story about the time when oddly, something caused my foot to lift off the accelerator for a few seconds. That few seconds saved me from being hit broadside from a car running a red light through the intersection I had been approaching. He seemed to identify and appreciate the stories. I am pleased with the new owner of my car and believe that my car will be happy – just don’t name it Betsy.
(c) 2012 Linda Stone Cohen All Rights Reserved
Remember that no amount of money can purchase grace, wisdom and humility.
stepoutoftheboxdotcom 