Yesterday Laurel called me because her car (1994 Saab 9000) wouldn’t go into drive at a red light. She shifted into reverse and back to drive and it started again. Turns out that her transmission fluid was low. But it got me thinking about having to buy a new car if Laurel’s starts to die.
My first car was a 1987 Chevy Van 20 that had been the family van for about 10 years before it was passed down to me. This meant that I was ‘The Van Guy’ for all my friends. I drove them around and I carried lots of crap around with me. So I have a special place in my heart for vans. Aesthetically I just like their shape, they’re like the rounded-rectangle tool of vehicle design. But they do have sort of a stigma among the ‘Normal non-van owning people’ that the people inside them may either be pedophiles or just crazy people living inside them. Part of me wants a sweet airbrushed mural on the side, but that may be taking it too far.
Is my desire to own a sweet custom van greater than my desire to fit in with normal society? We’ll have to see!