more thoughts about cars
I know what I said. But I'm retracting it. Shiny new sports cars that look like they want to punch someone, well, they definitely have their allure, and I still do want to try my hand at rally car racing one day (life goal, that), but.
But the thing with sleek shiny mean looking cars is that I feel like they really need sleek, shiny, and mean-looking drivers, too. (Maggie Stiefvater, whom I'm still blaming my car-infatuation on, is one such person. But then Maggie Stiefvater also graffitis knives on her mean-looking sports cars.) Me, I can only pass as badass on my good days, and then only when I feel like it. I think I want to believe that driving a car that looks badass on the outside will make me, by default, cool by association. Even on the days when I feel anything but cool. Like having such a vehicle will give me a leg up over everyone else around me. Rather uncomfortable feelings, when looked at that way.
I took the streetcar through Toronto last night, on my way to and from an Idle No More teach-in across town. There are a lot of high-end cars in this city. BMWs, Mercedes, Audis, Porches, Lexuses. Some are super shiny (and clearly garaged most of the time), others are road-salt-covered, but all are obviously Edgy and Fancy and Very Expensive.
From my seat on the streetcar, it wasn't so hard to peer into those cars' windows, and see... People. People frowning, or talking on their cell phones, or staring at the traffic lights. People who look, by and large, entirely ordinary.
I think perhaps I am not the only one who wants a shiny car to make her feel shinier.
I still want to race rally cars, just to see if I like it as much as I think I will, and I still think Mitsubishi Evos are pretty badass. But underneath that, more constantly than that, I want to live a life that's representative, on the outside, of how I aspire to be on the inside. I don't always have good days. But I do always try to be kind. I am not much of a badass. But I do strive to be a loyal friend.
Yeah, I love driving. I love my Honda (which is not badass, not at all; the goat-prints streaking down the hood, and the rust patches, confirm this). I'm nowhere near the point where I can say, I don't want a car! But I must acknowledge how very superficial I feel, upon reflection, raving about sports cars.
But the thing with sleek shiny mean looking cars is that I feel like they really need sleek, shiny, and mean-looking drivers, too. (Maggie Stiefvater, whom I'm still blaming my car-infatuation on, is one such person. But then Maggie Stiefvater also graffitis knives on her mean-looking sports cars.) Me, I can only pass as badass on my good days, and then only when I feel like it. I think I want to believe that driving a car that looks badass on the outside will make me, by default, cool by association. Even on the days when I feel anything but cool. Like having such a vehicle will give me a leg up over everyone else around me. Rather uncomfortable feelings, when looked at that way.
I took the streetcar through Toronto last night, on my way to and from an Idle No More teach-in across town. There are a lot of high-end cars in this city. BMWs, Mercedes, Audis, Porches, Lexuses. Some are super shiny (and clearly garaged most of the time), others are road-salt-covered, but all are obviously Edgy and Fancy and Very Expensive.
From my seat on the streetcar, it wasn't so hard to peer into those cars' windows, and see... People. People frowning, or talking on their cell phones, or staring at the traffic lights. People who look, by and large, entirely ordinary.
I think perhaps I am not the only one who wants a shiny car to make her feel shinier.
I still want to race rally cars, just to see if I like it as much as I think I will, and I still think Mitsubishi Evos are pretty badass. But underneath that, more constantly than that, I want to live a life that's representative, on the outside, of how I aspire to be on the inside. I don't always have good days. But I do always try to be kind. I am not much of a badass. But I do strive to be a loyal friend.
Yeah, I love driving. I love my Honda (which is not badass, not at all; the goat-prints streaking down the hood, and the rust patches, confirm this). I'm nowhere near the point where I can say, I don't want a car! But I must acknowledge how very superficial I feel, upon reflection, raving about sports cars.