New is Overrated

May 1, 2010

I have a friend who owns nothing but hand me downs. I used to feel sad for her because I felt that she was missing out by never enjoying that new, fresh-out-of-the-box feeling. But then I realized that she’s in fact brilliant!

This revelation has slowly been coming on; it reached its fruition the other day when I walked out to my car and found yet another ding in its side. It looks like someone took a golf ball and jammed it into the metal with the force of a WWF wrestler.

My current car is the first brand new, beautiful car I’ve ever owned. And I adore it.

That, I have concluded, has been my downfall.

My first car, in my eyes, was also beautiful and I loved it. Yet, it was 7 years old with no obvious value to onlookers. No cd player, no envious amenities; just peeling tint and a trunk that leaked when it rained. Nothing to attract unscrupulous individuals or jealous bottom-dwellers.

Given its esthetic shortcomings, you can imagine my elation when I purchased my beautiful jem of a vehicle with a 5-disc cd changer, leather seats, black interior, a leak-proof trunk. But with those perks came the obvious worry of its well-being. Constant concern for its cleanliness and safety.

And then the dings and keyings began.

Maybe this is a recurring trend that I was previously unaware of: the defacing of others’ property out of sheer spite or desire to damage a pretty object.

I never thought I would say this, but more than once I have caught myself gazing enviously at the hoopty parked outside a gas station or the 10-year-old junker ambling down the highway. Knowing full well that the owner couldn’t care less if he found an extra ding in his door later that day or if he were to back into a light pole tomorrow.

What freedom!

The day is coming, my friends, when the envy of the neighborhood will reside no longer with the shiny Mercedes but with the 12-year-old Camry with a hanging front fender and 150,000 miles to its name.

It’s a Hard Knock Life

January 28, 2010

Adults have it rough.

We deal with mortgages, job stress, family anxiety, relationship struggles, money issues, car repairs, home maintenance, national crises, weather catastrophes, etc.

So therefore, treating our world and fellow humans as doormats is fine! . . . Right . . . ?

Of course, of course, we tell ourselves.

It’s just too much to deal with on a daily basis: trying to find a trash can every time I want to throw something away; restraining myself from yelling at the barista because they don’t have caramel syrup; making a vomitous hacking noise very similar to a feline as I spit my inside liquids all over the ground in pure sight of everyone around me; letting my dog whine and starve to death on my back patio for the neighbors to watch in agony; giving the guy driving behind me a piece of my mind at the stoplight because he needs to be put in his place.

Like so many things, decency is a fossil of the past. Now, it’s only to be paraded around occasionally as a tribute to our roots. And then, all too quickly shoved away again into the closet as a cute naivete from the past.