My next door neighbor, let’s call him “Bill” since, well, that’s his name. Bill is getting on up there. I mean, the guy has to be nearing sixty. He has a son who started high school this year. His wife works out of town a lot and he’s retired, so he spends a lot of time by himself. Bill is a tad quirky, but there’s absolutely no way he’ll ever find my blog so I feel pretty safe writing about him.
Recently, Bill purchased himself one of these little Honda convertible sports cars. It’s not new, but it’s very similar to the new S2000. Anyway, the point is, it’s a sports car. And he’s almost 60. So, every time I see him backing the thing out of his driveway, I’m saying, “There goes Bill’s mid-life mobile.” In my head. (credit goes to comedian Bobby Collins)
See, I’ve never really gotten the whole mid-life-crisis car purchase. It just seemed a tad…dumb.
As I mentioned, CareerMom’s speedometer went out in her car last week and since there are apparently very stringent rules on who can fix speedometers here in Georgia, we had to leave it in the shop for a few days while they order new parts. In return, we got a Dodge Charger as a rental. That’s the V6, 3.5L 368HP Dodge Charger gentlemen.
Now I understand the mid-life-crisis car purchase!
After having driven underpowered mini-SUVs and pickup trucks for nigh on the last ten years, I’d forgotten how much fun a REAL car can be. It’s like a drug. I sit behind the wheel of this thing, with my new blue-tinted sunglasses on and my hair gelled just perfectly, and it’s like I’m 18 again.
I was able to take the car out a couple of times this weekend for short trips (once to the grocery store – woo wee! and once to the mall) and each time I did, I felt like a completely different person. I didn’t feel like the guy who’d changed three super-nasty poopy diapers that day. I didn’t feel like the guy who has a nice chunk of “rainy day cash” in his checking account and who, rather than buying himself a new HDTV will probably end up spending it on “something for the house.”
No, for about an hour this weekend, I was a MAN again.
Yeah, I said it! Without the kids, driving this cool car, I felt like a REAL MAN! And ooooooh, it felt good.
Today, they are supposed to get the new speedometer in and then CareerMom will go pick up her Taurus wagon thing. It’s not bad. But it’s no Dodge Charger “police version” super-stud mobile.
I’m sorry Bill. Me and you…simpatico my friend.