On not caring about cars, oh my word…
I wish I could completely convey to you how much I don’t care about cars.
I mean, it was not always this way.
When I was young I loved exotic and expensive cars.
And then. Then I grew up.
I grew up and I began having to pay for things myself.
(It’s amazing what that will do for you if you don’t know.)
Now I just see cars as an expensive tool. A necessary expense and liability.
Does it get me from point A to B? Is it cool in the summer and warm in the winter? Is it big enough for my family? Does it not break down?
I am convinced that unless you can afford to get a new car every four years (or stupidly get one anyway, even though you can’t affound it) cars are a complete hassle.
Of course, in some ways, I have grown up and come back around…
I have grown accustomed to the heated and leather seats, but haven’t we all?
I got a one-show job performing near the Russian River in Northern California. I drove there in my second great car, a yellow 1966 Ford Mustang (my third and last great car was a yellow 1967 Jaguar XK-E. Then I lost all interest in cars).