I have already written this post once, and it disappeared into cyber-space never to be seen again. So I will give it another shot, but rest assured, the first version was better, because it always is!
I learned a startling new piece of information recently, which tells me that change has truly come to America after all. Here in Suburban Bubble World, we have more big vehicles than the Australian Outback, but one of them, the Hummer, is about to go away. I say, better late than never.
I have never been able to understand the fascination with gigantic, oversized vehicles. I just do not understand the need that drives (that is a pun, in case you didn't notice,) some people to jack up their axles and their insurance rates in a quest to look cool driving down the manicured streets of our wealthy suburban county. Don't they realize that in reality, they only look silly? To each his own, I guess, but seriously?
I have noticed a corresponding phenomenon, too. The bigger the vehicle monopolizing the parking space, the smaller the person getting in and out of it. Sometimes I think it looks like a clown car performance, as I'm watching the tiny little owner emerge from the behemoth vehicle she has maneuvered into a parking place like an ancient ship steaming into port.
It could be fairly stated that I, myself, drive a large vehicle. I drive a Dodge Dakota quad cab truck, and I cannot deny that it is bigger than some of the vehicles on the road. However, I also own, way over on the far side, a painting and refinishing business, and my excuse is that I need a vehicle to cart around all my accoutrements for my side business. Since I can't afford to keep around vehicles I'm not using, I am sort of stuck with the truck as my every day driver.
My other vehicle, currently being driven around town by my lovely daughter, is a sedan. I look forward to the day when I can start driving one myself again. [I will just share with you that my entire family joins me in that, since I am not very adept at driving large vehicles. I am the one who spends 20 minutes trying to get into a parking place straight, only to spend another 20 minutes trying to extract myself again when I leave. I will just issue a general apology to the world for that, and we can move on.]
I am not a large vehicle owner, by nature. I do not drive down the highway and pretend that I own the universe. Frankly, I don't have any illusions that I even own my own little portion of it, since my life seems to be constantly careening out of control. I am always amazed by those people who seem to feel that they pay taxes on both sides of the road and want to get their money's worth, judging by the way they hog the center line.
I was hopeful that the gas crisis would signal the end of these gargantuan vehicles, [which are about the same size as the mobile home I lived in while in grad school, by the way,] driving on the road and parking next to me at WalMart. But it seems that the gas crisis has dissipated alongside my retirement IRA, taking away some of the pressure to downsize. In addition, I have also learned that as part of the total financial melt-down of our universe, the credit crisis is apparently preventing owners who are upside down on their credit from getting any further credit, thus preventing them from getting out from under their large vehicles. So it seems we may still be contending them for some time to come, to my immediate regret.
Feeling as I do, you know I saw the news that the Hummer is going the way of the Edsel to be good news. I know it's a jungle out there, especially in urban America, but I don't think a vehicle designed for the army to navigate in a war zone is one that we really need blazing a trail in our quiet corner of suburbia. I wonder at the vision of someone hiding in an assault vehicle, and I'm not just talking about seeing the road, here.
If we want to reduce violence in our society, I think we have to get out of our sheltered cocoons and re-involve ourselves in the real world. I believe that fear breeds more fear. The more we lock ourselves down and shut ourselves away, the more out of touch we are with others whose lives are different and whose experiences don't match ours, the more likely we are to have violence and mayhem, because we will not understand life from any other perspective.
Personally, I think perspective is what it's all about. If you are looking at life through an armoured assault vehicle, everywhere you look, you will see danger lurking. If you are driving down the street in a convertible with the wind blowing gently through your hair, and nothing between you and the world around you, you see things more up close and personal.
When my daughter was a little girl, we used to have a special book, The Churkendoose, which we would read every time we went to visit Grandma. She loved that book, looked forward to it with the most excited anticipation, partly, I think because, in a way, she identified with the Churkendoose in the story. [She also thinks she is Elphaba from "Wicked" but that's another story....]
The Churkendoose was different - part chicken, turkey, duck and goose - and therefore, he wasn't really one of them. They couldn't lock him in a neat little category, couldn't identify him as anything particular, so they were afraid and ostracised him altogether. Only after he proves himself and saves them by scaring the fox away from the coop do they understand it's not about what is on the outside, it's what is inside your heart that really counts.
You can have someone who looks different on the outside be exactly like you in their heart, where it matters. On the other hand, you can live with someone in the same house for years, and have nothing in common at all.
The Hummer is, by its very nature, a barrier to others. In our society, we need to tear the barriers down. I will say so long to the Hummer, without a regret. Don't let the gate hit you in the bumper on your way into the junk yard.
