Happy Carday
My car is a year old. Or maybe not because I’m not sure if a car’s birthday is the day is was manufactured, or the day it arrived at the dealership, or the day I went out and picked it up. You can see I don’t know much about car birthdays.
Its birthday (by my definition which is the day I picked it up) was actually yesterday and we went out and celebrated by driving to the park. We got there and I turned it off and opened the door and it told me it didn’t want me to get out and walk and I told it that it was the park and it said to me, “Yes, but it’s my birthday (by your definition) and I don’t want to be left alone in the parking lot with a bunch of scary cars.”
“They’re just cars,” I said. “They’re not scary.”
“Says someone who isn’t a car.”
My car and I, we apparently have a lot in common.
“Well, what can I do about—”
“You can just stay with me.”
So I sat and read and looked out at trees periodically and the car sat and rested. Or whatever cars do when they’re turned off. Except for the tires and the windshield wipers the thing is pretty much one giant computer so for all I know it rests by examining and evaluating my driving habits and radio preferences and my inability to sing and uploads all that information somewhere.
We get along alright. It’s a Scorpio like me and I suspect that’s the reason why. And why we both like it when I drive through puddles. It’s surprising to me how many miles I don’t drive anymore since I don’t go to work every day. I should probably get out more. Go to a grocery store farther away. Travel. Maybe go to St. Paul or something.
Car:
Please don’t anyone tell my car that I thought of a song about an Oldsmobile, but I don’t know of any songs about Toyotas.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=260hXID0Yo0&list=RD260hXID0Yo0&start_radio=1
#birthday #Car #Family #Life #Love
