Monthly Archives: September 2013
The Weekend ~9/27/13 ~ Car Correlations
I read an article on Thought Catalog where the author equated how a man treats his car to how he treats women. She painted a very compelling correlation between the two. I’m calling them car correlations.
Exhibit One: I have a girlfriend who knew the minute her date picked her up, and she refused to climb into the front seat around all the junk in his car, that his need for a mommy meant it was definitely not going to work between them. In fairness she’s uber neat.
Note to guys: When a girl demands you clean your car before pulling out of her driveway you’ve got a problem. Just call it quits right there, the two of you are definitely mismatched. And when hiring a cleaning lady my friend’s mother will first ask to see their car. She quickly weeds out candidates. No joke! So cleanliness is important.
Then there was the guy I found attractive at my dance class. However the minute I saw him climb into his truck cab full of slobbering, shedding dogs eagerly awaiting his return I couldn’t imagine him picking me up for a date. We were both recently divorced and I believe he was clearly communicating there was no room in his life for anything else. I would say he had plenty of affection and companionship already.
Don’t even get me started on the guy I passed on my commute to work with the solid gold bulls balls hanging from his truck hitch. And have you ever met a BMW owner who is not ambitious, competitive and Type A? I haven’t.
Now metaphysically speaking the car represents how we move forward in life. Or sometimes don’t. Like the week I got three flat tires in succession. So I began exploring this metaphor further.
Take for instance my outdoorsy, off-roading, camping, hiking, Jeep owner ex-husband. He was adventurous, took risks, could tackle any challenge and demanded a lot from his vehicles- often running them into the ground. He liked the sense of belonging that came from being a Jeep owner, much like motorcycle owners, nodding to each other like a secret handshake, acknowledging the club, a form of elitism, if you ask me. Desperately wanting to feel a sense of belonging, secretly believing he never quite fit in and constantly striving to prove otherwise. In marriage he was high/low, lots of fun and as I already alluded very demanding of a partner.
Now in fairness we were in our early 20s. He remarried after our divorce and began running marathons, became a vegetarian and gave up beer for wine. Surely he’d start driving a Prius and take on a social cause, I thought. But no, he ditched the Jeep for an Element. This is still a statement car, all about being noticed, so perhaps very little changes in the long run.
Though it’s not nearly as bold a statement as the 7-Up can green Mustang Convertible I rented at the Denver airport and drove up the pass. Where I ceremoniously buried my wedding band at the very spot we took our vows. I was young once too.
My other ex-husband, like most men I’m attracted to, is entrepreneurial, loves a new job, a new start-up, the beginning of any creative process. He came alive when he was chasing his passions, discovering his purpose, on a quest to find something meaningful in his professional life.
He had a variety of cars during our marriage- a VW bug, Dodge Dakota, and Charger (motorcycle also). You might get the impression he has a variety of interests. So the most literal interpretation one might conclude would be that it was the thrill of the chase, the desire of getting to know a woman intimately that he wished to experience over and over again.
But the most telling car choice, at least in our relationship, was revealed during the switch from the Bug to the Dakota. We weren’t married yet but living together when he decided he wanted a truck. The following morning he drove his new Dakota downtown only to find it didn’t fit in his company’s parking garage. So I ended up driving a new truck and he took my Prism to work every day.
He was impulsive in his decision and obviously hadn’t thought things through fully before jumping in. This could lead him to making the wrong choices about what he wanted in life. Even to marrying a friend instead of waiting for the “something different” he desired for long term happiness, foreshadowing.
Now I suppose it is only fair to turn the tables. This metaphor surely goes both ways.
For the most part I drove the aforementioned Prism through both my marriages and I suppose the majority of my intimate adult relationships. And in essence of full disclosure it was given to me by my parents for college graduation. Now just before the end of my first marriage I got a Tuscon. This started unceremoniously dying on me a few years later after the divorce. Needless to say it had to go. Trust me I’d still be driving it today if it held up under pressure.
So for the first time I could buy a car for myself without any outside input. I loved the height, storage capacity and 4 wheel drive of the Tuscon. I missed the sheer raw power of the Charger. My favorite cars growing up were my Rabbit and Diesel Jetta (even when the engine froze during Colorado winters). I considered the EOS or the Crosstour. But pragmatism won out and I traded it in for a Civic.
Most days my car is an utter mess. I literally live out of it. (No, my friend wouldn’t date me either.) Nor would I be hired to clean houses. (or do dishes as I’d much rather talk after dinner.) There’s a crack that runs nearly the breadth of my windshield that I’m too lazy to get fixed. And until it obstructs my sight line I intend to continue ignoring it.
The thing is I’m strong, independent, self-sufficient and practical. My exs would probably say stubborn and controlling. I’m terribly loyal sometimes past the point of healthy. I’d call what my friend refers to as tenacity of spirit, masochistic. They usually leave me before I leave them. So I know I’ll drive this car until it quits because it is dependable, hardworking and supports my creative life. It allows me to take off at a moment’s notice if so desired.
Or perhaps I’ll throw all caution to the wind and sell it; then run away to live in foreign country. Write endlessly at the window of my studio apartment overlooking the Seine. Because at heart I’m really a dreamer who closes her eyes in rush hour traffic and is flying down Highway 101 in her Karman Ghia convertible.
Blast from This Blogs Past
The Weekend Reading List
- Miles of Music: The Top 25 Songs about Cars, Driving and Roadtrips ~ Just in case you need anymore fodder for the car/relationship theory.
- 7 Songs You really Should Listen to Right Now ~ There is not one song on this list I didn’t totally adore. So I’d say skip above and listen to these ones first.
- New car Diaries ~ Another woman pondering car choices this time her own.
- When Wanderlust Goes Deeper Than Place ~ This was another thought provoker.
- Calling Me home ~ poem by Evan Sanders. Talking to the inner most part of yourself. what I call the god of your own heart.
- Feminist Cartoonery ~ Article by Man Repeller. Make sure you also check out her newly released book.
Grease ~ Greased Lightning
A few other car related ditties:
The commitments ~ Mustang Sally
Cyndi Lauper ~ I Drove All Night
Sheryl Crow ~ Everyday is a Winding Road
Diana Krall ~ Route 66 ( The most incredible guitar intro by Russell Malone)
Danielle Bradbery ~ The Heart of Dixie
Billy Ocean – Get Outta My Dreams, Get Into My Car
Queen ~ I’m in Love with My Car
Bruce Springsteen ~ Pink Cadillac
The Oracle ~ #FridayFictioneers 9/27
Every Wednesday Rochelle Wisoff-Fields provides a picture prompt challenging writers to create a 100-word story, poem, or whatever work they want. This weeks photo is provided by Mr. Brainsnorts himself, guru and writing mentor to little grasshoppers like me.
I started off as usual, writing a story for the image. I had two versions but ultimately decided to try something different. So I scratched them both and wrote a poem instead.
Make sure you click on the link below to read other creations. They never disappoint.
Copyright – Rich Voza (Mr. Brainsnorts to me!)
The Matrix reawakened an ancient idea
Red pill, Blue pill
Which one to choose?
A little girl whispers
He loves me, he loves me not
As plucked petals fall
Rose’s Red, Violet’s Blue
I’ve aged White
A ghostly apparition
of Love’s Labour’s Lost
And I dream of a lush field
Where choices have become doors
White, Blue, and Red
The Greeks always knew
Their birth rite
Drink of the river Lethe
Walk the earth again
Drink from the Mnemosyne
Live in Elysian Fields forever
Prophecy my birthright
Spinning my own fate
Upon destiny’s loom
I chose the White door
Word Count: 99
***I was inspired by taking door three, mythology and these lines from the Matrix.
Neo: Do you already know if I’m going to take it?
Oracle: Wouldn’t be much of an oracle if I didn’t.
Neo: But if you already know, how could I make a choice?
Oracle: Because you didn’t come here to make the choice. You already made it. You’re here to try to understand why you made it.
This is the story I originally wrote. Figured I’d share and store it here.
Whenever Claudine had a decision to make it was the same dream. Entwined among sheets, swallowed by the cloak of night, she’d arrive before three doors-White, Blue, and Red. A choice must be made.
Facing the blue door, her question posed, “Is it time?”
The door slammed closed. Shards of glass scattered around her feet. Quickly she jumped aside running through the red door.
The orderly entered room B13 finding the window shattered, restraints hanging from the bed rails. Peering down he saw the shadow of a girl running from the asylum, sheet twisting in the wind. “Claudine’s escaped again.”
Photo Pair ~ Dory
Tuesday Talent ~ Sarah S Williams- The Other Side of Up
I met Sarah on the Writer’s Cafe. I fell instantaneously and hard for her poetry.Many times it felt as though she’d crawled inside my head and plucked out a feeling I knew intimately. She graciously read and reviewed my work in exchange and her advice has been invaluable. So of course I wanted to feature her in Tuesday Talent. And thankfully she agreed.
Sarah Williams is an American poet living on the Central Coast of California. She graduated from the California State University of Fresno’s English Program with a focus on literature and poetry. Her poetry has been published in various online and print journals, including the Boston Literary Review, The Verse, The Fifth King Press, The Paper Bag Press, Sympathetic Souls Poetry Journal, etc. Additionally, her first collection of poetry entitled “The Other Side of Up“, printed by Within the Mirror Literary Press, is available in print through all online and brick and mortar retailers.
Who inspires Sarah
Poetically, I have been inspired by many different writers through the years. If I had to choose two poets who have most inspired my own work, I would have to say Sylvia Plath and Allen Ginsberg. Both of these amazing talents were what I consider “before their time”. They pushed the envelope of modern poetry and paved the way for writers like myself to enjoy the freedom of poetic expression.
What Sarah does
What Sarah Does best
I would like to think that what I do best is write. I certainly feel most at home when I am indulging my poetic inspirations, whether that is sitting in front of my laptop or on a bench by the ocean scribbling in a notebook.
What other profession Sarah would like to attempt
What turns Sarah on creatively, spiritually or emotionally
I like to ask and answer questions. My writing always has a “deeper meaning” that either questions or makes an assertion as to the way that the world works in terms of how we are all connected. I love mythology, and I find learning about/researching the way that the world used to work helps me to make connections to how things have evolved and work today. I suppose that learning in general is what keeps me moving forward in this world, because when we stop asking questions and demanding answers we are no longer growing as spiritual beings.
Where to find Sarah
You can learn more about my professional editing and ghostwriting services by visiting my website at www.wellspringwritingservices.webstarts.com . My poetry collection, “The Other Side of Up“, can easily be found on Amazon.com, and can be ordered through most online and brick and mortar booksellers.
Where Sarah got her Talent/Education
I’m not sure that I can answer the question “where did I get my talent”, as that would force me to assert that I have talent. Talent is a relative term, and thus I will leave it up to my readers to decide whether I am talented or not. I did, however, get my formal education through the California State University of Fresno’s English Program, which provided me with a fabulous education on style, form, function and overall literary foundation. Additionally, I have attended numerous workshops and symposiums on poetry, poetic style, modern verse and functional/effective writing.
Finally borrowing from Bernard Pivot- If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?
When the day of my death arrives and I am standing before the One great Creator of my existence, my greatest hope would be to hear that I lived a life of humility and compassion. I would also love to know that I have touched people emotionally, and that perhaps my name and work will live on beyond my death.
What would I do, if not write?
Who would I be without words?
The sharpness of my pen dissects deeply,
as a scalpel through husk and sinew,
right down to the very crux of it all:
cardinal red, as
Thoughts scatter and reform,
no sense in endeavoring to corral them—
for they are wary rabbits in a viridian glade
who only approach when I am most still.
I have given up – completely –
trying to navigate the torturous labyrinth
that is me, laid out in hard corners,
dead ends, and
What if I am deranged — afflicted
with some unidentifiable disorder?
For my head is so often lurking
in places that others dare not venture—
you think too much, I have been told,
but not everything is as it seems,
and I cannot be idle when Phanes’ creation
begs for definition and feverish declaration—
even if my lines do not rival the masters
or offer any lasting
The lacing of my brain must be unusual,
the channels crossed, impulses erratic—
yesterday, I watched a flock of gulls circling,
one flew opposite the others, forging
his own startlingly divergent course.
I suppose every species has its variants,
and every variant chooses an individual path.
Image: (1) Sarah by DCT (I had a little fun with this one.)
***This is a regular feature on my blog. Tuesday Talent Interviews are designed to introduce you to a myriad of incredible artisans. Make sure to check out the others. Enjoy!
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