Wednesday, February 3, 2010

"Ease it over son, I'll show you how she runs, Screamin' like a demon when the quarter mile comes..." Little Village - She Runs Hot

Driving around today I was jamming to my new Dark Horse cd, being in love with my car. I feel this way often. I would compare the way I feel toward my car to the way people feel about their pets. You might find that odd, and tell me my car is not a living thing. But I would say you are wrong. I would tell you that it has all necessary organs needed to be considered living. I would tell you that it has a soul, and can feel. Does that make me crazy? Or does that just make me more aware, or more open minded, or more sensitive? I have a bond with my car. She speaks to me. My car can be sick. My car can be excited. My car does more than just get me from point A to point B, which the extent of thought some people put in their automobile. The relationship I have with my car, in my mind, is similar to what the natives did in Avatar with their braid, it connecting them to the world around them.
When I'm driving down the highway I feel as though my car is a extension of myself. A car is fluid, also a work of art. It has the smooth, gliding lines, sloping from the roof of the car, starting as a sharper slant of glass for the windshield... down through the more gradual tilt of the hood which flows into the front bumper and headlights. Under that hood is the heart of the car, the fuel injected engine. The soul of the car flows throughout. It is everywhere. Without the radio on the car will speak to you. You can hear the pulse, and the solid sound of the tires on the pavement below. Sometimes, she begs you to go faster. Sometimes, she just wants to cruise along. And if you listen, the ride is sure to be a great one.
So my point in all this is that you need to listen to your car as more than just something to use for necessity. Take joy in your time in your car. Take pride in your car too. She has a soul. Remember that.

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