Conflicted Feelings

In a lot of ways, I hate cars. I hate how dependent Americans are on cars and the gas that fuels them. I hate how much money is spent on cars and how much time is spent in them. I can’t stand that a simple form of transportation is a status symbol.

All that being said, I grew up with a father who liked cars. One of the first cars I remember was a ’68 or ‘69 Camaro. I think it was painted “midnight blue” with silver racing stripes and those big, fat racing wheels. It looked a lot like this one. Dad sold that car when I was young.

Then he had a Cougar. I don’t know what year it was, but based on these images it was sometime between ’67-’70 because it wasn’t as big as the ’71-’73 . When my mom was pregnant with my younger sister, he told me he was going to sell the Cougar to get something more practical. I was four years old and cried when he told me. I loved that car. If I remember correctly, it may have had a soft versus a hard top. I wonder if it was a convertible.

What all this means is that even tho my mind is firmly in the 21st century and I believe in using public transportation or walking when possible, and using hybrids if you can afford to buy the currently higher-priced models, my heart is still in an earlier era. I miss the sound of those heavy doors when they closed, the feeling that cars were made of metal and not plastic. And hearing that rumble, rumble, rumble of a really mean engine.

I bring this up is because the Camaro has returned. At first I thought, that's silly in this day of elevated gas prices. Then I thought, I like Camaros. Like a lot of Americans, I think I have conflicting feelings about cars, the rising price of gasoline, and the role that cars will play in our future versus our past.

At least my Dad couldn't afford a Porsche. Then I'd be really conflicted.