Talkin' about an Evolution

I am not really a car person.  I don't care what I drive, as long as I have a radio and that the vehicle has seats and wheels.  In that exact order.

Sure, when I was younger I coveted a cool car, like the one Jake Ryan drove in Sixteen Candles.  Remember that hot little red Porsche? And Jake Ryan looked pretty nice in it.

Then in high school I thought it would be fun to have one of those Volkswagen Cabriolet convertibles. Can't Buy Me Love spawned that interest.  That cute blonde girl, the one McDreamy hung out with to gain popularity, drove a white one.  I imagined cruising around Lake Harriet in that VW with my friends, blasting the Beastie Boys, Poison, and Milli Vanilli.  (I have extraordinary taste in music.)

What I actually drove in high school was a 1976 Cutlass Supreme, and supreme she was.  I called her "Black Beauty."  She had a bruised black exterior, a red plush interior, and a sweet Aiwa stereo system (all the mixed cassette tapes a girl could dream of).  Perhaps the best feature of the car was the front bumper that wasn't completely attached, so when I drove over 45 mph it would flap in the wind and make a soothing, repetitive "clunk-clunk-clunk" sound.

Black Beauty succumbed to a used Honda Accord when I went off to college, then came a Honda Civic, then came the baby in a baby carriage in 2004.  We got our Honda Pilot at that point.  Seven years and three kids later, the only car I dream about is a Honda Odyssey minivan (yes, I am a Honda addict).  I've fawned over the ones my friends, neighbors and complete strangers drive, like a car fanatic would swoon over a Ferrari or a Maserati.  I sometimes wonder if there is something wrong with me in that I would not only voluntarily drive a vehicle like this, but that I would choose it over any other car in the world. 

This week my pathetic, practical dream came true.  We welcomed our newest family member, a 2006 Honda Odyssey named "Silver Bullet."  She's so pretty.

It's official: my evolution into a suburban minivan-driving mom is complete.  (My kids don't play soccer so I can't include that in my title.)

Someday, when my kids are grown and my hair is grey, maybe I'll cruise around town in a vintage Cabriolet, blasting Def Leppard and Pearl Jam from my stereo.  'Til then, I will relish the minivan in all its glory.

Yours truly,

The Adult Imposter

P.S. I don't need anyone to "Mom My Ride," as I am sure my own kids can handle that job.  Here's one of my favorite clips on how to do just that: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HEFE3B0Rje0