Love is an interesting emotion. I’m not sure why we, as humans experience it, I’m only sure that we do. I don’t spend much time thinking about why we go through the ups and downs of love but I do spend an awful lot of time (awake and dreaming) dealing with the consequences of this emotion.
One of the more interesting elements of love is the ability to love more than one person at once. Its very easy to explain this as it applies to children, for example. At least, my parents led me to believe that they loved both me and my sister equally. I can’t verify this as I only have one child – but I can say that the love of a parent for their child far exceeds any level of romantic love that I have ever experienced.
Some, however, will argue that it is impossible to experience romantic love for more than one person. I would say this is rubbish – I have experienced this before. The issue is that societal norms force us to make a choice and limit our love to one socially acceptable individual. When placed in that difficult decision, we must choose. And therein lies the great thing about cars. You can fall in love with more than one car.
And you don’t have to choose.
You can love as many cars as you want. They’re not going to get mad at you for spending too much time with another car. They’re not going to force you to decide on one and only one. They’re inanimate objects! Those sorts of scenarios are reserved for your spouse when they get mad at you for ignoring them over your car.
Of course, cars can’t love you back either – but that’s the nature of the car enthusiast’s relationship – we impose anthropomorphic characteristics onto our cars in a weird sort of psychological projection. But I’m not psychotherapeutanalyst, so I won’t pursue this thought path more than I just have.
But what is great is that we do love our cars. We take care of them, spend time and money on them, and talk about them endlessly, even to people who don’t give a shit about cars. One of the things I was taught to look for when I was selling cars was whether or not the potential up would touch the car – it was supposed to mean the car was stirring them emotionally and they were creating a connection. This is the power that these inanimate objects have over us.
There is something about driving them, but even more – there is something about daydreaming about owning and driving them. This is what the marketing scumbags and salesloths target – they want to create the fantasy, and we let them because we want to indulge ourselves in that fantasy. Rarely is the reality anything like that dream scenario, but we don’t care – the sheer joy of that mental masturbation is a wonderful thing to experience.
So, nonetheless, we can experience this feeling with more than one car at a time. We can dream about a whole different set of cars, as we please. Those of us with the means to do so can actually own more than one car at once. We can love more than one car at once. And we can date.
I like to think of my automotive schizophrenia less as a sickness and more as a period of sowing my wild oats, with cars, in a completely non-sexual manner. You see, gentle reader, I’m just looking for that one girl I mean car of my dreams. The one I want to settle down with and keep forever. Every single car I date, I always seem to fall out of love with. There’s always some little flaw that I Jerry Seinfeld away which causes me to sell the car rather than accept the imperfections and commit to the vehicle.
And even worse, just like I remember the majority of my ex-girlfriends in a positive light and tend to only remember the enjoyable times of our relationship (they have always told me the opposite – apparently I’m not the greatest person to date), I tend to remember my past cars for mainly the good elements, and frequently regret getting rid of them – despite the fact that ditching the car seemed like a perfectly reasonable and rational course of action at the time.
But lately, however, just like I’ve found the woman of my dreams, and married her, and impregnated her with my genetically perfect spawn, I seem to be settling down with cars as I get older. What used to be ownership periods of months has turned into years. And, I think, I must admit, that I have found one I want to settle down with.
Yes, I feel like I have found the one car that I would want for the rest of my life. When driving her, I never fault the craftsmanship as cheap, or the metal as thin or rust prone – she’s built solid and strong. I never moan about the handling – whether it be weight distribution, response, balance, or lack of linearity – she is responsive, lightweight, progressive, and grippy. In fact, despite the fact that haters gonna hate, (and hate they do) I have never actually wanted for more power than she generates. Yes, my little blue Porsche Boxster Inga has stolen my heart. We’ve bonded through the blood of competition and the intense fatigue (and sometimes terror) of the HPDE.
For the time being, she is the one. That doesn’t mean that there won’t be others.