I must apologize for not having a fascinating story for you all this morning. I can’t write. I’m busy car shopping. Not that I need a car right now. I’m about to fly to Alaska for five months. But when I get back, I will have an immediate need of a car. And our dear trusty car, Pam, will not make it through Texas again, hence the car shopping.
I’m not a car person. When asked to describe my car I say, “The green one with the antenna topper that looks like Mickey Mouse dressed as Jack Sparrow.” I could say, “The Chevy Cavalier.” But somehow that seems like an offensive way to describe Pam. It almost seems like car racism. Like I am allowing people to judge her based on the factory that made her and not who she is as a car.
She has seen both the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. She has been off-roading in Sedona. She survived a dust storm that stripped off some of her shine. But she, unlike so many other Cavaliers, survived and rose above her humble beginnings. She has become more than her brand. She is a magical TARDIS of a car. And even if she doesn’t have the trunk space of a Toyota Matrix or the head room of a Kia Soul, she is a defiant being who will look at a snowy mountain in Colorado and say, “Screw you Semi Truck! I will get up this icy hill that has conquered your big, manly tires.”
She can fit anything in her tiny little body. I learned while car shopping that the first thing I have to do is sit in the back seat. I have an extremely long spine, and half of these fancy cars don’t even let me sit up straight in the back seat! What am I supposed to do when my husband is driving and our friend needs to sit in the front so they don’t get car sick? Luxury interior my bum!
Let the used car salesmen flock toward me! Let their warranties be thrown at my feet. I will not bow to your 1.9% interest rates. I will not be taken in by sun roofs and leather seats. I know what true love is. It is not a brand or a blue tooth player. It is a deep connection between the soul of the car and her driver. And I will not rest until I have found Pam reincarnated! I don’t even care if that doesn’t make sense because she isn’t dead! And Monday, I’ll even tell you about the time I almost got Pam killed. I hereby declare this Pam week!