Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Feast. Your. Eyes....



Back when I grew up, before the days of huge SUV's and Suburbans, there were Vans.  Full size, large capacity, survive a nuclear attack, Vans.  Every family who was anyone, drove one.  Including mine.  In fact, some of my best childhood memories are in that car.  If I'm reliving a memory, I'm probably in our Ford Van, listening to Psalty, on an adventure to somewhere.  The day my parents bought the van, I swore they were the richest people in the entire world.  How could I be so lucky to have a van with leather seats, a built in TV, and a personal rear radio.  Yes, they had arrived, and I was on my way to a sweet road trip. 

Fast forward present day, and I am officially becoming my Mom.  In my driveway there currently rests a 2002, Full size, Chevy conversion van.  Complete with everything except the kitchen sink. This thing could travel the Continental United States gathering every Craigslist find from California to New York.  It's got a TV/DVD, pleather seats able to house a 300 lb man, mood lights, running boards, and an automatic fully reclining back seat. We've already determined that Jack, AKA, the best bet to become a Frat Boy in College will not be inheriting this car.  For the sole reason of that back seat.  We didn't fall off the dating train too long ago.

The Saab sadly had to be traded in.  It was not large enough for our wanna be Catholic family, even though it was magnificent for dates.  So practicality won out when we spotted this beast of a van, and they offered an equal trade for the Saab.  Financially speaking, it was a win win.  Socially speaking, I'm afraid I may have hit rock bottom.  Or given over the last of my youth.  Nothing says Welcome to 30 like 2 vans in the driveway.  I'm on my way to creating my own bumper stickers to add a final seal to this deal.  Here are some of my favorites so far:
1. Go Big or Go Home
2. You can Judge a Mom by her jeans, but not the car she drives
3. I've Simply Given Up
4. At least I was cool in High School...
5. We're not Catholic, Just Passionate Protestants
6. Bigger Is Better
And my Favorite...
7. My other car is also a Van

So there you have it.  Don't be jealous now.  I'm sure there are Conversion Vans for sale wherever you may live.  At least it can't get any worse.  I still buy name brand jeans, and spend a fortune on my blonde hair.  And speaking of becoming my mom:  our kids now think we've arrived.  They've already planned their trip to Disney and are requesting to blast some Psalty.  This is going to be an intersting ride; Literally.

Monday, May 7, 2012

Bumper to Bumper

I noticed a snippet of American Exceptionalism this weekend while Kevin and I drove to a much needed movie date.   And because the season of political mud slinging is upon us (at least in my house).. I was grateful for the reminder that a civil society, no matter the party affiliation, is a great  thing to experience.

A rain storm had knocked out all traffic lights for a good one mile span, in one of the busiest sections of town, on a Friday night.  A recipe for disaster in anyone's mind.  It was slow, bumper to bumper, organized chaos. Organized being the operative word.  You see, in America, as Americans, we know the rules of the road.  A light is out, and a once speedy stop light becomes an automatic four way stop.  An invisible stop sign appears, and we know to yield, wait, and drive.  It really is amazing to think that a society often coined for it's selfish ambition and individualistic tendencies can instantly become a patient, other driver focused community.  The destinations of each take a literal back seat to the safety for all.

Traffic is annoying, irritating, and usually brings out the worst in us all.  But last Friday night, I was reminded through the delay how a country built with a moral compass, pointing to a selfless God, can still reflect his humanity.  So the next time I find myself in bumper to bumper, I will sing the Stars and Stripes instead of the whining blues.  Because if I'm going to  be late for my date, the least I can do is appreciate the road that got me there.