Changing tastes and changing cars

Sunday, April 9, 2006

Hi neighbors. The best thing about the end of March is the end of "March Madness" dominating the evening television viewing. Yes, I know, I'm not a sports addict and those who are think I'm a wet blanket. Well, phooey I say! I doubt many of those basketball fanatics would want to watch a week-long televised scrap-booking marathon either.

There's no accounting for tastes.

It is a good thing that there are so many variations of almost any activity or thing to pick from. Even your own tastes change through the years. I think spinach is an acquired taste.

Most people have to be in their late twenties before they gain an understanding of spinach -- or develop a tolerance to it.

Then there are people who remain on a semi-liquid diet until they turn 40. Through the years they go from milk to beer to wine to Jack Daniels. Of course, there are variations of each of the liquor groups as well -- even international versions of each.

One example of changing tastes is teens driving what we used to call jalopies. Someone's age could be determined by their car.

It didn't matter what their economic standing was, they all drove "shade tree mechanic" cars. These cars were held together with Bondo and adhesive racing stripes. Their tattered appearance didn't reflect their racing capacity usually though.

That was the whole point of the backyard tinkering every Saturday morning. Getting that motor to purr like a European sports car was more important than worrying about losing another bumper, fender or running board.

Those we all remember as the "first car slash high school car" car. We know what those looked like. They barely ran because the parents didn't want them to be reliable enough to get you across town, much less to Kansas City. They had powerful V-8 motors, not for power, but to burn gas faster so you had to save all your gas for weekends.

Now kids in high school drive brand new cars, or at least generic cars their parents wouldn't have been caught dead driving when they were teens.

Maybe it is only in the Midwest that teens need a set of wheels as much as they need a letterman's jacket and senior ring.

When I was in high school, lots of my classmates lived out of town. If they didn't have their own car, they missed out on a lot of school activities while the milking got done.

Having a car, any car that would run, put them on an even keel with the "city kids" who could easily get to all the ball games and parties.

Then came the "college cars" which were less expensive to drive and more reliable. Remember, parents have to help finance gas for college drivers and aren't there to collect the keys.

Besides, if the car isn't reliable, how are you going to convince your student to come home every weekend? Mini-vans and sports utility vehicles are for the married with children group. These are the Mom and Dad versions of the old "Woody" stationwagon of the '50s and the huge vans of the '60s ad '70s.

Cars have more accessories these days because people find themselves living on the road more often.

Between commuting to and from work, delivering and picking up children from their activities, going to drive-through fast-food cafes and running other errands, people spend as much time in their vehicles as they do in their recliners. And they want the same things handy.

Sports cars are reserved for the elderly gents. Those same shade tree mechanics dreamed of their own speedy, sharp-looking two-seater every Saturday while tinkering with their old jalopy.

After working all their lives, getting kids through college, the mortgage paid off, and struggling to overcome any form of mid-life crisis, they feel they need a trophy car to prove they did, finally, make it to the big time.

Ladies in that same age group prefer the big luxury cars. Mostly because they ride lower to the ground and are easier to get in and out of, even if that means needing a periscope to see out the windshield.

I think my next car will be a Soapbox Derby model. Gas isn't needed, I can stop it with my foot, and I can get the neighborhood kids to fix it if it breaks.

Until the next time friends remember, the easiest way we can make changes in our lives is by changing our minds.