Well, this post is for my husband. The other day Ben was relaying to me that when he walked to the hospital from the physician parking lot he noticed a piece of a motor muffler on the ground. He thought how tacky is that and then realized the muffler was from his Volkswagon Jetta. Poor fellow, his once cherry red car is now pink and it sounds like a motorcycle (but doesn't have the cool factor). If he rode a bicycle to work he would be at least considered Green, but when his car puffs black smoke clouds I think the tree huggers' eyes tear if not from the fumes but from his flagrant disregard to Mother Earth. Ben is practical and hasn't complained that he can't open his trunk and air conditioning consists of rolling down his windows. He doesn't seem to notice the keyed exterior or punched in door, the broken side mirror or the tail light patch job. He pours a gallon of oil into the car a month and has compounded it to a soft luster though the car has been ungratefully wicked. He is a man of incredible loyalty and forgiveness. His car has received the Biblical maxim of 70 times 7. I love him for that. Yes, Ben would happily drive a four door truck or a sleek Jaguar, but it won't make him more successful. He wins hands down for the man without pretension.
(Ben, when you read this- may you blush the color of your car.)
13 hours ago