Car Talk

My parents bought a frighteningly luxurious car. How come we had the twin Oldsmobiles when I was growing up and now they're floating on the clouds of Lexus? Retirement should have its privileges, so I'm happy for them. Actually I liked the Oldmobiles. At least one of them. My mom's was rust-colored (yes, painted that way on purpose by Oldsmobile) and had the cushy pseudo-velour type seats which seemed very comfy compared to the not-even-pseudo-leather vinyl on my dad's lima bean green Olds. We spent a lot of time driving around in that orange Olds. Mom used to go outside and start it in advance in the winter so it would have time to warm up before we went to school. I think Minnesota winters were more fun for kids than for parents. I tend to remember ice skating in the park, hot chocolate around the kitchen table, building snow forts, and idyllic Christmases with snow. They probably remember taking out the garbage into the frigid garage, shoveling the front drive, frozen nose hair, and icy mornings driving to work or school.

I lived in Minnesota for a year after college (trying to go home again, as Thomas Wolfe indicated one shouldn't) and got to drive around in the snow and ice for the first time. On one occasion I was driving home from work at night in a Toyota Land Cruiser and put on the brakes for a stop sign. The Land Cruiser not only did not stop, it did a 180, so I was sitting in the middle of the intersection facing the opposite direction by the time it had stopped twirling. Luckily, there were no other cars around. It was embarrassing.