Men and Cars

The car, she is in the shop.

I have three distinct, yet interrelated car attitudes.

First, I hate having car issues. For the most part, I try to maintain a live and let live relationship with the car. I don't bother it and it don't bother me.

Sometimes, that attitude is not necessarily helpful.

Really, I am happy and blessed that it died in my office parking lot where I was safe and in good hands. It beats the side of the interstate. Moreover, I am happy and blessed that I can afford to get it fixed. It beats the cost of paying for a new car.

That brings me to the second thing. I hate paying for cars. I have no desire for a fancy car - or more succinctly - I have no desire to pay for a fancy car. Fortunately for me, my extravagant taste comes to a screeching halt at the garage door.

The third thing isn't necessarily politically correct, but here goes.

I want a man around to deal with the car.

I said it. I'm not ashamed.

I know some of you may find my brand of feminism less than radical, but I prefer to think of it as a willingness to delegate some of the responsibility in my life. Truly, when the car needs work, I wish I had a husband to deal with it. It's one of the qualities on my "dream man" list.

Keep the "dream man" in mind. I'm going to talk about him a little bit more while I'm on vacation next week.