Entries Tagged 'Cars' ↓

I spend a LOT of time in the car.

Dropping off, car lines, picking up, grocery stores, baseball practice, stop hitting your brother, don’t kick the seat, up and down the same roads we go, cracker crumbs trailing behind, to infinity and beyond.

Knowing that I spend this much time driving, my brother happened to notice that I had the option for Sirius XM radio in my car. So guess what he got me for Christmas? Love him for being so thoughtful. It was the perfect gift.

So now I have the option of over 150 different radio channels to scan through during my time spent driving. As I make my way to my son’s elementary school everyday, I’m searching, searching, searching. Amazed and entranced when a song and station identification pops up my screen. Oooooh…. lookee there…

*Squeeeeal…*

Its been a slight…er …distraction I might add also.

Anyhoo. So. While scanning through the endless list of stations, what am I looking for?

Well, first off, music. And there is plenty of that. I’ve been ROCKING out to “good but bad but I listened to it back then” 80′s and 90′s music. Culture Club, Debbie Gibson, Def Leppard, Lisa Lisa and the Cult Jam, I’m shameless.

Oh and current stuff too.

“I brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack! Mommy, that’s SILLY!!!! …Whose Jack? …And whose P. Diddy?”

Tik Tok on the clock, but the party don’t stop, no.

My family truckster spins the tunes.

And then there’s the new wave channel. Loving some old Cure and Smiths and Pretenders and doing the “Molly Ringwald” to General Public’s “Tenderness”. Or the Coffee House channel – acoustic covers of everything, even Cory Hay strumming old Men at Work tunes. Reggae, Frank Sinatra, alternative rock from the 90s (when I met my husband, oh the “Sweater Song”, sigh).

And there’s Disney Radio. It’s there, if I’d ever let my kids KNOW it’s there. No Jonas Brothers for now, mmm k? Thanks.

But now and again I am looking for a little talk radio. Hoping for something that catches my attention and pulls me in for the duration of the car line still creeping forward at an snail’s pace.

There are all sorts of news options which I like. A slew of ESPN and sports channels (whatevs, never listen to those). Religion, health, weather. And Howard Stern of course.

(Sidebar: While much of what Stern spews is garbage, I find myself listening sometimes. I guess I’m one of those people that gets so irked by him I need to hear what he says next. Which is, of course, his magic formula and why so many thousands of people listen to him daily. However, I will begrudgingly give him one thing. He does one HELL of an interview. He can get a celeb to say just about ANYTHING. Barbara Walters has nothing on that guy. Nothing. So, yeah, I’ll listen now and then.)

My most recent discovery is the COSMO channel. Oh ho yes. Now that there is a GEM. You know, it’s COSMO as in the magazine, but for radio. And one particular program is call “Cosmolicious”. Cute, no? And the 20-something DJs who talk using question marks chatter ceaselessly about every topic you might find in COSMO magazine.

“I dunno, I mean I think I would tell my husband if I got botox? Because like he would be mad if I didn’t tell him? But he might not even notice? For like a LONG time? So maybe? If he didn’t know? He couldn’t get mad at me about it? And then when he gets the bill? I’d be all ‘I’ve been getting it for a long time so whatever’?”

(True story.)

Like Stern, maybe even more so than Stern, I can’t turn the dial. I NEED to hear what they will say next. How do I make sure (hex? train?) my boyfriend so that he knows exactly what kind of 3 carat engagement ring I want without actually telling him ? How do women get through Valentine’s Day WITHOUT (OMG you poor thing, it so sucks, I can’t imagine) A MAN? But if you DO have a man, what shape should you get your bikini area waxed for Valentine’s Day? A heart? Arrow? Landing strip?

So I’ll switch over to the Entertainment Channel now and again – which has some interesting stuff. But then there’s the Rosie Show. *Sigh.* I want to like it but, I’m sorry, it blows. The fabulous Deb on the Rocks called it a “Hot Mess“. And she is so right. And unfortunately its not even good enough to be that bad that I want to listen to see what variety of hot mess she’ll make today. Bored. Bleh. Next.

There’s always the Martha Stewart channel. Honestly? I think I tried it once. I felt like I had failed at all things Susie Homemaker just by flipping to that dial. Also, next.

And if you want to try and picture what a bunch of Playboy models look like, or what they like to *giggle giggle* do, there’s always the Playboy station. For the two seconds I don’t have kids in my car, that is.

Because Playboy isn’t the only station dropping F-bombs and verbalizing adult scenarios. That’s just what happens with satellite radio and so I take care to police what’s on with two wee sets of 6 and 3 year old ears tuned in behind me.

So back to the music I go. Which is totally fine because there is enough variety for sure. That and the family friendly comedy channel which cracks me up…

“Larry the Cable Guy is Tow Mader’s voice Mommy!”

…Ok, its not that funny.

But what am I really looking for? What is missing from the 150 station long menu of radio wonderment?

Well. Where the hell is MY station?

I want a women’s interest channel. Not Martha, NOT COSMO, not just news, not just sports. I want a women’s interest channel that talks about parenting and school and balancing work and kids and finding yourself after you’ve had kids and marriage and friendships and the dreaded post baby muffin top. I want a channel that debates current topics like Michelle Obama’s fight against childhood obesity or the fact that Florida still won’t allow same sex couples to adopt. I want a channel for smart women, who like to see things happen and change and work – but for women who also like to talk about the best padded bras out there right now to revamp all of what 14 months of breastfeeding took away. I want funny, I want witty, I want current, I want to think.

You know what? The blogging world might be able help Sirius out.

Because really, the perfect women’s radio channel on Sirius should be inspired by a combination of some of the best women bloggers out there. Take Aiming Low, Pundit Mom, Motherhood Uncensored,  MOM 101, Deb on the Rocks, The Bloggess, Redneck Mommy, Uppercase Woman (oh I could so go on, really I could, because I know there are fabulous bloggers out there ALREADY doing webcast shows, rocking it better than Cosmolicious EVER could), include all sorts of topics mentioned daily on BlogHer, mix that with a whole lot of The Ellen Degeneres Show, some political brilliance from The Rachel Maddow Show and a smattering of the debate style from The View and, well, you’ve got my station.

Oh and if there are a few F-bombs or adults topics of discussion, bring it. If I found a station that good, I’d invest in a couple pairs of earmuffs for the boys in the back and let them kick the crap out of my seats as much as they damn well please.

Until then, I guess I am left doing the “Molly Ringwald” at traffic lights. And considering heart-shaped bikini waxes. You know, since I was looking to do something meaningful this Valentines Day.

My mother was a stubborn woman. When she wanted something and she felt strongly about it, she gleefully dug right in. Logic often played a part in her decision making. But sometimes it did not. Sometimes she dug in simply to boldly stamp herself on a debatable issue – and she often did it in spite of herself. You think this idea is silly? Well, guess what. I’m doing it no matter what you think. Sometimes this tendency of hers made us crazy. But most times, it could be downright endearing – in a maddening sort of way.

And that’s what happened with my mother’s Disney car antenna decorative Mickey balls.

Let me back up a bit here.

When my mom passed, I got her car. And I don’t care what you think about such a thing, I felt really weird about it. Yes, I know we needed a new car desperately. And yes, her car had very few miles on it. And yes, I know, she would have wanted this but still. It felt plain weird.

Like throwing away her toothbrush, like tossing her favorite breakfast drinks, like rummaging through her personal things in the days following her death – taking her car seemed like one more thing I was taking away from her previously organized life. It was another way to officially proclaim her time using these things was over.

This car that she loved so much. This car, a practical shade of red so that she could spot it easily in the parking lot, would never be driven by her in that kind of jerky way that I tried not to hassle her about. This car of hers, that I’m now driving through the car line at school pick up, that I am now playing my music in, that now has two car-seats strapped into the back – this car, I don’t care what that title says now, it is still hers.

Before we drove her car to Florida a couple weeks following her memorial service, I grabbed a bag of hers that I knew came with this car’s ownership. I could not leave with out it. It was a bag of seasonally appropriate Disney car antenna decorative Mickey balls.

Yes, there is obviously a story about those decorative Mickey balls. And here it goes.

A few years ago, my mother was in Downtown Disney with all of us and bought one lone Christmas themed Mickey ball. When she got home to her car, she plonked it right on her antenna. And my Dad hated it. He was NOT a fan. Not that it was his car, but he was happy to announce he thought that seasonal Mickey ball was silly nevertheless.

Well. That simply fueled her fire. During her next visit down to Florida, my mother bought an entire kit of decorative Mickey balls for her antenna. She proudly owned Christmas, Valentine’s day, Easter, 4th of July, Halloween and Thanksgiving. Except that she lost Halloween in a car wash. My father was over-joyed, until she stomped right out and plonked Thanksgiving onto her antenna. So there. It became a running joke between both of them. He shook his head at her while she religiously changed those damn Mickey balls as the seasons went by. Plus, much like her own mother (who used to tie gaudy, plastic flowers to her antenna), it was yet one more practical identification aid used while searching for her car in a parking lot. Oh yes, the red car with the Santa Mickey decorative antenna ball, that’s my mother’s car. My father would laugh and grumble under his breath and she would tromp ahead in the parking lot. She had dug in and that was that.

So today we put up our fall decorations. I hauled out the ghost lights and plug-in pumpkins and the favorite “trick or treat, smell my feet” sign that now hangs in our family room. The seasons are changing (in spite of the heat in Florida) and it was time to decorate appropriately. And once everything was out of its boxes and set up just so, I went into my room and found the bag of those dreaded Mickey Mouse balls. I rummaged around, knew I wouldn’t find the pumpkin, but pulled out the pilgrim Mickey ball instead. Then, I marched out to the garage, pulled off the 4th of July Mickey she had put on there months ago, and plonked that pilgrim right on.

Sure, I live in Florida and kind of cringe at that seasonal Mickey antenna ball. I mean I heart Disney for sure, but I try to be cool about it. Real Floridians wouldn’t sport Disney all over their car, right? But this isn’t a Floridian’s car. This is my mother’s car. And it is my very small, very silly but fully meaningful tribute to her.

Mom, I know you love that it’s on there. Happy Halloween. We miss you with the changing of every season.

I am facinated by bumper stickers. I always have been. I can’t help but look to see what people have to say, what they believe in and what they choose to support publically as they drive around town. It’s no suprise then that I have a few bumper stickers of my own. Lots of people I know don’t like bumper stickers, they argue that they are even unsafe since they give away a lot of personal information. But, well, I just couldn’t help myself. My car is hardly very flashy as is, so I see no harm in spicing her up with a little bling.

However, my facination with bumper stickers has been fanned and ignited from a mild interest to a full blown obsession with this election. You see, I live in a suburb in Florida that is kind of a big deal right now. According to the polls, it is still one of the fewer areas in Floirda that they cannot predict for this election. And our state overall is still on the fence as to which way it will go. So depending on how my neighbors vote, the results for this county might actually help determine whether we become a red or blue state tomorrow. The people driving in the cars all around me could help decide who our next president will be. So when I started seeing campaign stickers plastered on the backs of cars in my area, I couldn’t help but take notice. I was literally seeing who these drivers will vote for.

Last September, I started a little poll in my car. Since about the second week of that month, I started keeping track of every Obama and McCain bumper sticker that I saw. I was curious to see if my poll might reflect the polls for our state. Plus it helped me feel like I could have some sort of “heads up” about which way the area I lived in was voting. I was curious if I was the only Obama supporter for miles. It turns out I’m not.

I should also note here that I didn’t count any signs or other parphenalia that I saw. (Until recently, the large majority of signs were for McCain.) And I tried to be very careful never to count the same car twice. (For instance, kindergarten pick up means seeing many of the same cars everyday.) And even if a car was covered in Obama stickers, it was only counted once. I also continued my poll if I drove out of my area. I drove to Orlando twice during my poll and counted the stickers I saw. I am not sure how scientific my methods were but, for the last month and a half, I have been on hyper bumper sticker alert, hunting down stickers at every traffic light, traffic jam and parking lot I found myself at.

And now – cue drum roll – a day away from our national presidential election, I would like to present you with my results.

Total cars with bumper stickers: 114

Obama bumper stickers: 62 (54%)

McCain bumper stickers: 52 (45%)

It looks like Obama won, right? Well, I should also tell you that I attended an Obama meeting and counted 9 stickers there (I am sure there were more but thats as many as I actually saw). So, if I hadn’t attended that meeting, Obama would have only won in this poll by one bumper sticker.

So what does it tell me? Of the sample of cars I saw during my drives around town daily, the polls reflect pretty much what I saw. Elections results for this area of Tampa are going to be very CLOSE tomorrow.

And now, back to wringing my hands and hoping all goes well tomorrow. But before I go, I am kind of into this polling thing recently. Who are you voting for?

[polldaddy poll=1071805]

OK folks, I think I have the answer. I think I can solve all our expensive gas woes. I honestly have NO idea why anyone hasn’t thought of this before. And I should know, being entirely uneducated in car design, or the business of running and fueling one. But hear me out. I am telling you, THIS is the answer we have been looking for.

The first step is a bit tricky. My plan requires that we run our cars on straight vegetable oil. Yeah, I know. Not exactly the quick fix you were hoping for. This step requires that we either buy cars with diesel engines (um, ok, those are super easy to find) and convert them, or buy cars already primed for biodiesel that would run entirely on vegetable oil (again, just as easy to find – but that could change with enough demand).

Now, here’s the step I am most excited about. Where do we get the bio-diesel easily? Obviously this is an infrastructure issue. We have gas stations on every corner. But we don’t have vegetable oil stations on every corner. But you know what we DO have on every corner? McDonalds! They are probably MORE common than gas stations! And can you even IMAGINE the kind of vegetable oil they go through and toss out? All we need to do is get Mickey D’s in on the plan. They just need to work it out with the bio-diesel experts and design some sort of fancy schmancy fuel pump that will process, clean and recycle their oil so that it is ready made for any bio-diesel car that runs on pure vegetable oil coming through the drive through. Do you have the visual yet? “I’ll have a big mac, a small fry and fill ‘er up.” All for $10! Brilliant, no? So, your car will smell like McDonalds. That’s a heck of a lot better than your car smelling like the regular unleaded it does now.

Ok, so I am suuuuure there are a thousand holes that someone can poke in this plan. Plus, there needs to be a huge, guaranteed demand for a new fuel system - as outside the box as this one - to actually succeed. Mega corporations across the board need to work together to make something like this move forward. Consumers need to be mentally ready: they need to trust that this will work, they have to be on board with a massive overhaul, and they need to truly understand that the gas we know and hate right now is NOT the best fuel for our cars.

And it would certainly not surprise me if the oil companies did everything in their power to undermine a massive change such as this one. You and I both know that they sit smugly in their secret lairs, with their Mr. Bigglesworth kitties on their laps, cackling evil cackles and pushing buttons to up the price of gas everywhere. After being so used to running the universe, I am SURE they’d be a bit miffed if they lost business.

But here’s my bottom line really. This idea may be impossible on many levels (I’m not sure which levels but what clue do I have) and I get that. But if we don’t start thinking up crazy ideas like this soon… if we don’t start taking our fuel crisis seriously and stop assuming “oh it will get better, gas will get cheaper, we’ll be fine”… we will never find a dependable, renewable source of energy to run our cars. Folks, being concerned about fossil fuel consumption is not for hippies and earthy crunchy types ANY longer. (Check out today’s article on MSNBC to prove my point.) THINK, people. We need to come up with something – FAST.

Until we get an alternative source of fuel and we can escape the choke hold of our current gas guzzling, money eating, gross emissions spewing, rattletraps we all own and curse, I will fantasize that one day, the car I drive, smells exactly like one ginormous french fry. Please pass the ketchup – let’s go get a clue.

I have this car. At first glance, it’s really nothing much to look at. At all. It’s just a Saturn sedan. It’s this weird gold color – I think it was described as “champagne” by the Saturn dealer. But this car is special to me. And I feel the need to tell its story.  

Let’s back track to late spring, 1997. The pomp and circumstance of college graduation was over and I was giddy with that desperate need to get out of college and on with life.  And that spring, my parents very generously presented me with a gift that both mortified and elated me. They gave me my first car. Mortified, you ask? Yup, I was mortified that I was allowed a brand new 97 Saturn SL fresh from the car show floor. It was literally given to me at the dealership with an enormous green bow taped to its roof. But the bow isn’t what mortified me (surprisingly). I was getting a brand new car that I had not paid one dime for. I fretted that it could label me as a spoilt privileged child. While my friends were looking forward to decades of student loan payments and possibly many more years until a brand new car of their own, here it was, a brand new gold prize with a big green bow on top just for me. But, let’s not kid ourselves. I was also positively elated. Jubilant, in fact. I finally had a car! I was free! I could drive where ever I wanted to! I could commute to work like real grown ups did! I got over my guilt and worries fairly quickly – and so began my life with my Saturn.  

Over the next few significantly life changing years, it kept right up with me. It put up with my political stickers, spilt drinks, stinky dog, drives in deep snow and cheesy taste in music blaring from its very basic speakers. My car showed its true champagne colors when – besotted and irrational – my now husband and I moved to Worcester, MA. Not only does that part of Massachusetts enjoy some of the most terrific snow storms in the state, it happened to be the 57 mile halfway point between my job and my husband’s job. I drove my Saturn 114 miles every day, roundtrip, in whatever weather New England dealt us for almost two years. My poor Saturn. And it stuck right by me. The only hassle it gave me was a starter issue. But can you blame it? I wouldn’t want to start either if I had to wake up and drive 57 miles before the sun was even up in 14 degree freezing temperatures on the Mass Pike. Forget it. Smart car.  

In 2000, my husband and I were married. What was our “get away” chariot after our wedding reception? The Saturn, of course. I remember being stuffed into its backseat, giggling in a pile of wedding gown and tulle, looking through wedding cards with my new husband by my side as my brother drove us to our hotel.  

In 2003, my first born son arrived into this world. A car seat was gingerly installed into the backseat. Special mirrors, hanging toys and window shades were placed throughout. It was now to care for very precious cargo indeed. One day a couple years later, while my son was, very typically, tossing around crackers and spilling juice on the seats – I remembered a moment when my parents first gave me the car. My mother had insisted that we ask for scotch guard protectant for the seats. I thought that seemed a bit silly and remember remarking “it’s not as if little kids will be in this car!” and then madly thought “what if my kids someday do end up driving in this car!” It was a completely insane concept. And then, clearly resigned to the ground in crackers in my backseat, I knew my mom was right about the scotch guard.  

So here we are in 2008. A couple weeks ago, the Saturn’s mileage clocked in at 130,000 miles. The stickers are still there, its sentiments real but a little faded. Both of my boys, strapped in their car seats, are squeezed into its backseat daily. Every inch of space is piled with books, toys, the contents of birthday party goodie bags – and even more crackers. Every other day, I pull into my son’s school and park amongst a parade of minivans. All with tinted windows and fancy car door openers. The moms peer down at me, through my untinted windows – they see me, my kids, my mess and I wave and say hi. The other moms know my car and often remark “oh, hey, I saw you driving past Target the other day!”  When the moms and I chat about my Saturn, we have a good laugh. The only thing “power” in it is its steering. Manual gears, manual windows and manual locks. And the one that always stumps them – it has a tape deck, for God’s sakes! That sends them into hysterics – I crack up too. That Saturn is truly unique and obscure in and amongst the endless cue of soccer-mom-mobiles. I drive it shamelessly – it has no car payments, its running just fine, and I am grateful.  

Some day soon, my Saturn may stop pumping its AC, its little tires may give out and I may see two “X”s over its headlights, with a little exhausted tongue sticking out from under the hood. Let’s be honest, it’s had its day in the sun, and snow and everything else in between. And I will have to face those inevitable car payments and irksome feelings of car “two-timing”, while I buy a nice used mini-van. I will find my place in line with that endless parade of soccer-mom-mobiles. I’ll be grateful for the space, the manual locks, a CD player or – dare to dream – a connection for my MP3 player!   

But I’m not quite there yet. My Saturn is still with me and I am fiercely loyal to it. And after all of these years, it seems I should pay it some sort of tribute. If only I could find a nice little green pasture where Saturn owners turn out their cars to enjoy their remaining days in peace. Or maybe we should build a nice little “in law” garage for it to retire in when the new mini van shows up. I even asked my father when it would enjoy “vintage” status. He said it might need another 10 years. So we’re over halfway there! In the meantime, whichever comes first, it’s inspiring “vintage” status or that nice little green pasture for retired Saturns, I’ll just keep driving and assume that’s the best tribute I can give it for now.  

“The car has become a secular sanctuary for the individual, his shrine to the self, his mobile Walden Pond.”  ~Edward McDonagh

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XkXQZr5naD0&hl=en]