I've never been much of a car person. I am happy with a vehicle if it takes me where I want to go and gets me back. Air conditioning is appreciated (but I haven't always had it), and having a CD player is nice when I can't pick up a decent radio station, but I don't go googly-eyed over the way a car looks. I chose my current car because it would allow me to transport my bicycle and keep it out of the weather and under lock and key. The fact that it can seat 7 (8 if some of them are children, but who wants THAT?), has a sunroof, has leather seats (I'd just as soon have cloth), and has a keypad for entry (but it broke and we haven't had it repaired because it was never important enough to spend $300-400) are all pretty much negligible to me.
When I first got my driver's license, I had a couple of hand-me-down cars from relatives. I had a little station wagon of some kind that Katydid and her husband had (it was blue, but that's all I remember about it), but my aunt wanted it so Mom sold it to her. I think. Then I had something my step-brother had driven that resembled a tank, and it was... gold? What I consider my REAL first car was a four-speed Datsun B-210 (I've blogged about it before) with no air conditioner and no radio. I saved enough money to put a cassette player and stereo in it about four months after I got it, and my friend Michele and I rode around listening to Billy Joel, the Beach Boys, and David Allan Coe all summer. Please just shoot me now for that last one.
My next car was also a stick shift with no air conditioner. It was called a Dodge Colt but was made by Mitsubishi and was silver. Then I went through a couple of Ford Escorts bought from family members (a red one from my former sister-in-law and then a blue one from my stepson), then a van that I neither picked out nor wanted but was important for a golf trip my ex wanted to go on (yes, he was not above purchasing a vehicle that would be helpful for a single golf trip), then a little pickup truck of which I took custody after the divorce because its payments were lower, then a Grand Am (the sportiest thing I had ever driven, until...), then a Grand Prix (and my father refused to ride in either of the last two because they were made by Pontiac), and then my current SUV.
Hubby and I have been to a couple of car shows. It's neat (for about 5 minutes) to walk around and look at the really old, old cars and wonder where in the world they plugged their GPS units in. But walking around peering under hoods and counting the pistons and cylinders and valves (?????) on a bunch of cars and trucks is about as boring as it gets. At least to me. If I go to Hell, I'm pretty sure my punishment will involve an eternal cycle of car shows. With rap music piped into each and every car.
I said all that to say this. (Aren't you relieved there really IS a point?)
Ever since Hubby bought his new car, it has brought pedestrians to a standstill and caused entire carloads of teenagers to stop and stare.
I was driving to dinner one night, and we were in the left turn lane next to some teenagers. They were punching one another and pointing at our car. I felt obligated to mouth to them, "It's not mine. It's his," as I pointed to Hubby. They started laughing, and I could almost swear one of them was saying to the other one, "I told you!"
Friday night we went out to dinner, and when we came out of the restaurant, there was a woman taking a picture of Hubby's car.
I mean, it's a nice car for sure, and I enjoy driving it (when I can get over being nervous about it), but I'm not sure it would turn my head if I saw it in traffic.
I did sort of fake it a little bit when we were in Mississippi two weeks ago. I was riding my bike and came to a four-way stop right after a car just like Hubby's pulled up to my right, only that car was red. It was her turn to go, but she waved me through the intersection first, and that almost never happens to me when I'm on my bike, so I turned and waved and mouthed to her, "Nice car!" I thought that might be more meaningful than just saying "thanks." But if she had gone through the intersection before me, I wouldn't have sat there on my bike staring after her car.
I guess I'm just not that much of a car person.