Me, My Cars and ICars are important to most people. I learned that thirty years ago when, while introducing my boyfriend, I received eye-brow-lifting nods of approval - not for him - for his car. Even my boss was impressed, "I like this young man already. He drives a Volvo."
For me a car is nothing more than a means of transportation. As long as the engine starts when I turn the key, I’m happy. Over the years I have driven different cars but all I remember about them is their color. And their temperament.
There was the schoolbus-coloured van. This van’s "tic" was the battery light. When it came on, I had to pull over, get out, squeeze under the front of the car and wiggle a wire. This became a real problem once I was seven months’ pregnant.
We traded the yellow van for a used aqua-blue station-something that stopped running whenever it felt like it.
My life changed drastically when we bought my brand-new Honda CR-V. From the first day I owned it, I felt it. The bonding. I became a regular at the carwash, took detours driving home. Me and my car, we fit. Or so I thought....
Published in Savvy Women magazine www.savvy-women-magazine.com
Published in Kleine Zeitung mit Herz
