Thursday, May 19, 2011



I have a hard time understanding cars sometimes.

I see Mustangs and Corvettes and can't help but think, "What's the point?"

My mom has discovered my hate for Hummers, and likes to point out when their despicable waste of gas-guggling masses grace their presence on the freeway to me.

In addition to that I'm very content walking a few miles to get to my destination if it isn't blazing hot outside and there isn't creepy men everywhere. Being a pedestrian, bus transportation person is incredibly appealing to me.

Typically speaking I see a car as a means to get from Point A to Point B in the most efficient manner possible.

So when guys (ok, we won't stereotype, girls do it too occasionally) brag about cars or talk about how crappy their car is, do I really care? Well, if it's crashing down every two weeks or so or looks like raging wolverines attacked the ceiling of it, then yes, I will feel a similar concern.

It took me a long time to figure out why the stereotypical man can be so caught up in what vehicle he roams in.

And then it hit me in...Anthropology? French and Italian Cinema? History of Creativity? Oh wait, when I went to Vienna!

Yep, it dawned on me when our tour guide was talking about royalty and their sweet rides....


Yep, the old fashioned equivalent to the Little Deuce Coupe, for sure.

A classy horse equaled a classy person. Beautiful horses were all about status to royalty and the rich. They shipped in only the finest of these bad boys to be the finest person in town. Your ride was about your placement in society.

So on that note, somebody's taste in car says soooooooooooo much about the person. If I recognize the car name, I feel like I get a whole lot of insight into the person.

If I don't recognize the car name, well, I just feel really stupid or I go Google the car (works like a dream, by the way, Googling). I recognize car brand names and know what you mean now, so it's a lot of progress.

But when you get into those numbers (as in when you say "Ford 160 Palamino double-rev engine with low-risers" = ????), you've only got 80% of me present. I have to have a image in my head.

So I decided to work on my weakness for my lack of car knowledge, and I wanted to impress you all with my newly refined vehicle savvy.

I did some research, and I found the car I hope to save up and buy one day. It's very classy, if I do say so myself. And now I know the exact terminology to provide when I speak with you big car people.

My dream ride would be, drumroll please...

A 1969-1971 Volkswagon Bus, circa Woodstock!

But honestly, if you really wanted to know, I still call it a functional hippie van.

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