WHEN DOES A CAR...?

I get really, really irate when some commercial comes on, anthropomorphizing a non-organic object.

I see this commercial recently:

"When is a car....
   Not a car?
"When does a car become...
   a part of the family?
   more than a means to go between point A and point B?
   a co-conspirator?"
And so on, ad nauseum.

And it really gets up my nose some.

Try answering 'Never!' to any of the above inane questions.

Wake up! It's just a frickin' machine! It's only intrinsic value is transport. Nothing else. I can understand getting a little attached to it: it's human nature. We're such creatures of convenience: you, me, everyone. We like structure and consistency, routine is inherent in us. But the ongoing romance with an automobile is just so...it seems theistic in nature.

Mind you, I have a car. I drive it (as little as possible: I bought the thing in 1997, 45,000 odd miles, as of this date, I'm ALMOST turning it over at 100,000) to work. I don't 'cruise', nor do I approve of these idiots who four-wheel up and down in the mud (yeah, tell me that AIN'T thrashing the environment, then sell me the Brooklyn Bridge while you're at it), I think these 'Monster Truck' rallies are such a waste of money, space, time, and our dwindling oil supplies, and 'tricking out your wheels' is going to prove to be an utter waste of resources when the gas finally DOES run out (and it will, very soon).

And we're literally bombarded with personifying propaganda. The cars talk, they supposedly tell the world, 'This is where I'm at, hey baby!' (a ptarmigan in full plumage during mating season), dating all the way back from 'My Mother the Car', to 'Knight Ryder', we have this ridiculous attachment to a machine, so much so that it (in some cases) rules our bloody lives.

Not to mention, that it insulates us to a terrifying degree in our society. It does. Here's an anecdote from my long lost youth:

When I was 16, I would walk about two miles (all uphill, both ways! Hehehehe, no really, all flatland) to go play chess with a buddy of mine. Then, after 8 hours, I'd walk back. One day, I was pounding the pavement, when I saw this tableau:

Tall, lanky, long-haired shirtless adult male (early 20's) walking away from this crying woman. She follows him. He stops, smacks her, yells "STAY AWAY FROM ME!" Turns, tries to leave. She follows. He repeats prior action. This went on a few times. I kept walking (hey, I was a kid, what was I gonna do?).

My point here being, is if I'd driven by, I would've gotten only a brief glimpse of one minor detail. Probably the woman getting smacked. And that, in macrocosm, is essentially (IMO) what is going on with America today (at least one factor). We're being programmed (whether unwittingly or no) to make value judgments based on a quick glimpse, rather than getting the whole story. An ingrained response, that is broadly affecting how we view each other, our country, our world. We zip past something, and formulate from there.

And of course, Ramen help you if you try to criticize the 'romance', as it were. Remember the big hubbub about SUV's, some years back? A bunch of soccer moms got up in ARMS no less, protesting the ban. I recall some environmentalists protesting some 4-wheeler enthusiasts riding up and down the landscape. One of the protestees got violent, and hit a protester. And I don't think I need to get into the instances of road rage that go on. I mean, someone cuts you off, or hits your car, you're going to HARM someone over that? What are you, twelve years old or something?

I can understand if you have to take your kids to school, or go to work, but come on! It's still JUST A MACHINE. Or to paraphrase Neil Diamond, "But it don’t sing and dance,
And it don’t talk."

So let's get a clue, people. It's a CAR. It can't comfort you in the wee hours of the morning, when loneliness and desperation make you weep, it can't trot out a tune on a dance floor, can't return your affection, give you children, answer your questions: in short, it's a MACHINE. So try not to invest too much of the 'Disney Syndrome' into the bloody thing. And next time you yell out "Road trip!", do me a favor:
Walk down to your local library.

"When a civilization buries its dreams in smoke, asphalt and concrete, madness is the result."

And that's my nickel's worth. Spend it or flip it: it's your choice.