I’ve never really given much concern to where my branch is on the “social status tree” but nine years ago, at the age of 30, I wanted to experience the pride of owning a new car. I didn’t go nuts and buy something I couldn’t afford. I bought a Dodge Neon. I didn’t even go for the fully loaded package. It does have air conditioning but that’s the biggest perk. It’s a four cylinder, manual transmission with no electric anything. I’ve loved that car and kept it in top shape. In fact it’s almost 10 years old and it only has 55,000 miles on it. After driving it for six years and accumulating two more kids through marriage, we decided to upgrade to an SUV, a gas guzzling V-8 mom car for a family of five. My dependable little Neon was demoted. It sat and collected dust while the tires went low. I thought about selling it but I didn’t, knowing it had been paid off years ago and that I couldn’t replace it as a “spare car” for what I could sell it for. Once in a while I’d hose it down and take it for a spin just to keep the battery charged. I just couldn’t let it go because it was still in such fine condition, until a few weeks ago, when coincidently the price of gas went way up again.
I suppose it’s partly my fault for leaving the Neon parked long enough for a squirrel to nest under the hood. This simple act of nature awoke the inner T-Rex in my German Shepard who evidently has an issue with rodents. She ravaged my poor little Neon to what an insurance company refers to as “totaled”. Using her claws and teeth she dented and scratched both front fenders, the hood, and tore off my air dam trying to get this poor little creature. She ripped wires from the undercarriage and chewed out the rubber gasket from around one headlight. Who would have thought this passive old dog of mine could become so savage? Now my little Neon is ugly with scars, scratches and dents. I sigh knowing that our relationship must go on in spite of my dignity. I don’t need the flash of an expensive and trendy car to feed my ego, but I do feel that at my age and being a business owner, I should be driving something which is at the very least, “not embarrassing.”
Well no thanks to the extreme gas prices, I’m swallowing my pride and driving a car a teenager should have. I tell myself I shouldn’t feel embarrassed or disappointed. Life has its ups and downs and at least I have a spare car, when others might not. I recognize that the interior is immaculate and I appreciate the arctic air at my fingertips with the touch of a button. I thought I had moved past this phase of my life and graduated with natural progression to driving something more distinguished. I was wrong, but I feel better knowing that it’s not just me who faces this issue and that fact restores my self esteem.
I’ve run into several friends who have also resuscitated their old beater commuter cars. We pass each other on the road each morning with a nod and raise a mug in our traditional coffee cup salute, knowing we deserve better … but refusing to succumb to the outrageous cost of fuel. I guess it’s a matter of deciding what is more important to you … your ego or your wallet?
