Is this a mid-life car-isis?

They say you never forget your first love, and forgive me, Terry if I digress for a moment.  We first met in those tender teenage years when I was around 16 and some months.  Getting ready for my junior year in high school.  My step-dad, Jim introduced us.  I would even go so far to say he made it possible for us to get together.

Once he caught my eye it was all over.  He went by Marvin and what a looker he was.  A 1966 sunny yellow Ford Mustang (3-speed standard shift).  I had only been a legally licensed driver for a few months and had learned on an automatic, but I could not be swayed.  This was the car for me.  Jim paid the $600 cash and I set out on a payment plan and a life long love of mustangs!

It didn't take me long to master the gears (although hills were a source of worry for quite some time to come).  With its sporty look and quick demeanor, he soon became a favorite of the family.  I usually sang "Marvin the Mustang, do we love you" to a popular commercial jingle whether driving solo to work. or taking my siblings or friends on outings to movies or shopping.

Soon my brother had his license and with a look that could only be described as longing, indicated his desire to master the standard gears and take Marvin for a spin.  Thus began my long and illustrious part-time (unpaid) career as driver's education teacher.  Attempts were later made to teach Katy.  She was my only "less than success" story.

Fast forward many years later when the original Marvin was just a fond memory.  A red Mustang made an appearance in my life for several years - and yes, he was named Marvin the Mustang II. Then came a laundry list of adult-looking cars and even one van (soccer mom years) as I played the part of "I have children at home, am willing to car-pool, can drive your child also" mom.

But....if you read my blog last week, you know what happened.  I became the mother of ALL ADULT CHILDREN.  It was then that I realized one of two things could happen.

My car-isis

Choice One:  Enter a respectable period of mourning.  Face the fact that my youthful years are gone.  The kids no longer need me.  I will be relegated to the "old ladies" section in just about every place I can come up with.  Just call me Grandma.  (Wait, I am Grandma - well, Mimi as the kids call me and that is definitely NOT a bad thing).

Choice Two:  Face the fact that all my kids are adults. (allegedly).  Realize it is no longer necessary for me to be bound by those chains that tied me to the adult looking cars (yes, even one van) and say to the world, "MARVIN,  COME TO MAMA!!!!!!!"

Guess which choice I made?  More importantly - guess how long it took me to make it?

So, while I am not quite sure how this will all work out, this much I know for sure.  It's a tight squeeze in the back for old ladies, so if you want to go somewhere with me, CALL SHOTGUN or meet me there.

Giddy-up!

Marvin's BACK!!!

until next time,
#startyourengineplease

your pal,
Kari