Over the last few years I've watched several friends excitedly buy a new car. Exactly what they wanted. Eyes dancing with joy. Truthfully, I just don't have this experience with cars. I don't think a car has ever made my eyes dance. I did like watching the joy their dream cars brought them.
As I was driving down the freeway a while back, a nice car drove by. I have no idea what kind it was. I wasn't really paying that much attention, I just appreciated the aesthetics of it. And it sparked a thought. If I could have any car in the world, what car would I want?
Let me first say all I've ever wanted in a car is for it to run and do what I need it to do. Get me and mine and our stuff from here to there. That's it. We currently own four cars (remember, I have five kids, ages 14-21). One isn't running or registered. All of them have multiple things wrong with them. They are all either hand-me-downs or gifts from my parents. As long as they run, I don't care what they look like.
We haven't had a car payment in years. I hate having a car payment. We have no plans to buy a car in the near future.
But if the universe suddenly wanted to give me the car of my dreams, this is what it would be. It would be a Chevy pickup from the late 70s or early 80s. It doesn't matter what color or whether it's two-toned or not. A few dents would be nice. It would be partly rusted out, maybe even a small hole in the floorboard. The shocks would be somewhat worn so that we could really appreciate the bumps on unpaved roads. It would be a stick shift that sometimes took both hands to get into reverse. The bed would be dented and dirty from hauling anything and everything. You'd have to really slam the tailgate to get it to close. The windows and locks would be manual. And since this is my dream car and it can be whatever I want, it would have a rebuilt engine that runs smoothly and gets great gas mileage, working air conditioning and heating and seat belts, and new tires.
Thinking about this took me back to all the trips to the livestock auctions on Saturday mornings, all the rides through the canyon, all the times I had to get out and open or close the gate, and the smell of hay mixed with manure while hauling horses. The good times with my dad.
Completely impractical but oh, so nostalgic. Isn't that what dreams are supposed to be?