Auto-Tude

It’s odd. A car can represent so many things to different people. For some reason, we attach a great deal of meaning to the machine in which a person gets around town. Of course, looking at a person’s vehicle can give clues to their personalities, their lifestyles, and their priorities. We have to be careful, though; those leaps to conclusions can put us in the wrong place entirely! For some, The Car is the outward symbol of financial success. (That la-di-da logo on the back says, “I can afford this”—but maybe the engine specs or safety rating sold him on the car.) To others, the car’s condition demonstrates the determination to keep things neat and orderly. (Not a fast food wrapper or a tissue in sight!) An antique or a classic car suggests a love of bygone days, an investment in nostalgia, or a cherished hobby. (Or maybe it used to belong to Grandpa!)

Four-wheel drive suggests a love of outdoor life (unless you live in snow country or hills) and mud in the wheel wells tends to confirm it. Racks on top indicate an affinity for a sport or hobby. Car seats galore point to a young family, and dust on the tailgate suggests a rural home or workplace. Flags and stickers and things dangling from the rear view mirror give clues as to the politics, the subcultures, and the philosophical bents of the owners—or perhaps their teenage children.

Even the state of upkeep (or lack thereof) says something about the driver, but the clues can easily be misread as well. A spit-polish shine suggests that the car is a high priority, but perhaps that the owner simply has too much time on his hands. A crumpled fender can mean a lack of good insurance, or it could just as easily indicate that the owner hasn’t the time to spare to even get an estimate for repairs. The effluvia radiating from the interior could indicate indifference, but it could just as easily mean that the owner is overwhelmed, ill, or far too busy doing for others to bother doing for himself.

I don’t get too involved in judging a person by the vehicle of choice. Ever since my BYU days, when my roommates got all gooey because my date drove a Corvette, I’ve been amazed by the extrapolation from vehicle type to personality characteristics. Their “Hang onto that one, Honey; he’ll treat you right!” always left me puzzled and a bit unnerved. As it turned out, Mr. Corvette didn’t (treat me right), but another young man with an expensive car did—as did the guy with the well-worn VW Bug. Funny how the guy with the Bug is the one who’s still on my mind in my dotage.

For me, a car is something I climb into to get where I need to go and back. I want it to be reliable, fuel-efficient, and reasonably comfortable. I want the tires to stay inflated and I hope one doesn’t explode a sidewall on the freeway. I don’t want anything sticky adhering to my shirt when I get out of the car. Other than that, I don’t care. Oh, I’ll notice a pretty new vehicle zipping down the freeway, and the shiny newness is pleasant; but I don’t envy the owner the high tag fees, the killer insurance, or the payments. Still, I think, “Hurray for you!” and drive on with a smile.

My “auto-tude” frees me from a lot of unnecessary worry. Since a car is just transportation for me, I don’t get upset at a ding in the door. I might not even notice it, nestled as it is among friends. Having no emotional connection with the car’s make or model, I’m comfortable lending it out when someone needs a car, and I don’t worry if they happen to spill their Big Gulp on the seat. All I ask is that it be returned on time, in one piece, with gaskets un-blown and with fuel replaced in the tank.

I’ll always notice what you’re driving, but chances are, it will mostly be so that I can honk and wave at you as you pass me on the highway; and I’ll feel happy, not because I saw your car, but because I saw you.