Wednesday, October 19, 2016

Beep, Beep

Beep, Beep

Lately, I've had this notion that I might buy a new car.

To be honest, I really don't need a new car. I really don't drive that much anymore, unless I'm going out of town.

Still, there is something about a new car that inspires the imagination or, at the very least, invokes memories of the days when having a hot car was the be-all and end-all of being cool.

Nowadays, I am not so concerned about my "cool." Most days, I'm downright cold.

The problem with buying a new car is how to choose the right one. I must admit that I am quite enamoured with the look of many new car models. Smaller cars, like the Honda Civic have quite a spiffy look to them. They're like little rockets zooming around town. I like that.

But is that me?

Other cars have a kind of square look to them. Many SUV models fall into this category. Cars like the Toyota Rav seem to suggest a practical outlook on driving. I don't imagine these kinds of cars have the kind of flair that I might want. Something about the SUV world speaks of yuppies with kids and maybe a small dog, like a dachshund.

Some people like an even boxier look. For example, the Nissan Cube seems designed for the geek crowd. I can't honestly see driving one of those. Sure, you'd get some curious looks on the highway, but I feel as if I'd need a vegan girlfriend who wore horn rimmed glasses and bulky sweaters sitting shotgun.

Of course, I could go with something that has a more classic, street-smart look. The Ford Mustang comes to mind. The Mustang has a rather interesting legacy. Since the Mustang first appeared in 1964, it has maintained some kind of mystique as a fast and furious piece of metal for those Saturday night cruises around town. For some reason, hot cars and hot sex have become synonymous in North American culture. So, the Mustang seems to be the choice of young men with a rock hard sex drive and middle-aged men with a six-pack of Viagra in their pockets. I am neither of those. When I dream of "four-on-the-floor," it has nothing to do with a gear shift.

Maybe I need to up my game a little. Maybe I should get something more chic, more classy, more expensive. Maybe I want a Cadillac. For around $60,000, I could get a Cadillac CT6. The problem is I'd have to live in it as well, and I'm pretty sure all my T-shirts wouldn't fit in the back seat. I must say, however, I like the look, and I might like the attention such a car brings. I wonder if such a car comes with a blonde bimbo?

In North America, cars are more than just another mode of transportation. What you drive seems to be seen as an extension of what kind of person you are, giving meaning to that somewhat peculiar phrase, "That's how I ride." All seems a bit silly, I suppose. Unlike in Europe, where the scooter is king, here you ride a scooter at your own peril. Too many North American drivers simply see scooters as akin to ducks on the pond, fit for target practice, but little else.

So many cars, and so little time. Then there's all the options you can add and all the different colours. The whole process of buying a new car simply boggles the mind. I have no idea which way to turn, no idea what best suits a blog writer with something of a narcissistic personality. It's enough to drive me batty ... hmmm ... I don't suppose the Batmobile is for sale ...




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