A little over a year ago, I made a purchase that has subsequently become symbolic of the major transformation in my life over the past few years. Those of you who know me well may already know this story. As is the case with most of my writings, it’s completely at my own expense, so I thought it might be worth repeating. The original title of this was, “My Shameful Admission”, and I wrote it in December of 2010. But hey, what the hell, it’s my story, and no one has paid me for it yet so I’ll tell it as often as I’d like. I hope you enjoy.
I recently became a card carrying member of a not so elite force. I maxed out my “Man Card” to its’ fullest capacity and rendered it useless. I took the last stack of my cool chips and went “all in.” I now find myself a four star General in the Soccer Mom Army. That’s right folks, I bought a mini-van!
Just a few short weeks prior, I was cruising in a black Mercedes Benz with the sun roof open and jamming to the Stones. Now I’m rolling in a battleship grey nerd vessel singing along to Disney’s Greatest Hits. I have a half full juice box occupying each of my sixteen cup holders. Where were all of these beverage receptacles when I was in college and actually needed them? Could’ve used the seating for seven back then as well. I made it a few months shy of forty-one years without ever having to drive a mini-van. And now, here I am draped in nearly 4000 pounds of suburban camouflage.
My wife has thoughtfully attempted to cushion the blow to my ego by referring to this multi-doored offspring transporter as my “Man Van”. But something tells me that people aren’t buying into that. She won’t however permit me to paint flames or lightning bolts on the sides of it. Perhaps she’ll go for a bunch of those little fake bullet hole stickers.
My eternally forward-thinking bride also allowed me to keep my beloved Mercedes. Truth be told, it wasn’t worthy of a trade-in and the nice folks at the dealership laughed at the futile attempt. I’d have gotten a better trade-in value with an autographed picture of Scott Baio and a box of stale saltwater taffy. Don’t let the hood ornament on that Benz fool you, the car was nearly old enough to drink legally. My aging luxury German sedan now resides sad and motionless in a remote corner of my driveway surrendering the prime spot to the Man Van—perhaps the final resting place for this once proud and revered motor vehicle. Since my new van is an Odyssey, my wife has now nicknamed my old car the Iliad. The theory being that the Homerian reference will add an air of coolness and mystique to the project, hence softening the demoralization factor. Don’t put this sweet, thoughtful woman on too much of a pedestal though. The lovely Mrs. Syd being six years my junior has made it abundantly clear that I will be the primary operator of the van while the SUV remains hers. At least one of us is still cool.
Sorry I kind of got off of the subject. Now where was I? Oh, that’s right, I was the recently promoted to Captain of the Good Ship Field Trip. About to embark on a series of adventures involving birthday parties, swim classes, gymnastics, karate, and chaperoning excursions to the zoo. Now, should I happen to pull up next to a very attractive female at a stop light, I simply look the opposite direction in shame and continue belting out tunes from the “Curious George” soundtrack.
The dork wagon is still relatively new, but I suspect that within a few short months, there should be enough French fries and gummy bears on the floor in the back and tucked into the seats to sustain me for several days, should I ever find myself stuck in a snow bank or ditch. I also fully anticipate possessing an unrivaled arsenal of Happy Meal toys, and broken Crayons with me at all times. It’s a sad state of affairs when the coolest thing I can now say is, “ I got stow-and-go seating bitches”!
I also recently learned the true definition of confusion—turns out it’s a color-blind guy searching for his gray mini-van in the full parking lot of an elementary school at pick-up time. Yeah, that was fun. Twenty minutes of my life I’ll never get back. But I held my daughter’s hand in mine throughout the ordeal, so it was certainly not time wasted. It was like trying to pick out a Lincoln Town car at 5:00 P.M. in the parking lot of a buffet restaurant that offers both early bird, and AARP specials. Shear futility.
Once I came to grips with the fact that I was about to purchase a “short bus” of sorts, I looked into the various different features and options. I could live without a sunroof, or automatic side doors, but the rear DVD player was an absolute must! Attention span is not the strong suit of anyone of any age who lives under my roof. Look, a squirrel!!! It’s like the test kitchen for Aderol in my house. I say that tongue-in-cheek though because we don’t medicate. We thought we’d try out the old fashioned method and actually parent. Anyway, the option for the DVD player was an additional $1400.00. Seriously? That’s more then I paid for each of my first four cars. Two of them combined. All so these little farts can be distracted on road trips by watching Tom and Jerry beat the crap out of each other on an eight inch color screen. I don’t think so.
When I was six years old, I rode the entire way to Orlando Florida in July in the rear window of a puke green ’74 Dodge Dart Swinger with vinyl seats, no air condition, a.m. radio, a luggage shell bungeed to the roof and my brother and sister ritualistically torturing me the entire way. Dear God, when did I become my father? Anyway, after careful research I discovered that for $34.00 at Wal Mart I could get the same size and quality player that would affix to the back of the front seats with Velcro straps. Problem solved. If a six-year-old and a newborn want to call me out because their screen doesn’t pop out of the ceiling, they can get out and walk! Just kidding. The little one can’t walk yet.
Another perk to my new playpen on wheels was that I had finally achieved one of my life-long goals. For the first time ever, I owned a vehicle that was made in the same decade in which I was living. Keeping in mind that I made this purchase in December of 2010, my elation over my accomplishment was short lived. It quickly occurred to me that in three weeks we’d be starting a new decade. DAMNIT!! None the less, I scratched that milestone off my list.
The fact of the matter is, I love my van and I don’t care who knows it. There, now I feel cleansed. I love my life, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, and I wouldn’t change a thing. Transporting my ever- growing family in safety and comfort while looking like a geek is a small price to pay.
Thanks for playing along.
Until next week,
Syd Nichols
