The V8 in The Carpool Lane

Back in my younger days, I had a sports car with twin turbos. There was nothing I loved more than taking the t-roofs off and, with the wind blowing through the car, driving like my hair was on fire.  

It was a car that was built for a shorter person. My then-fiancé hated the car. He hadn’t mastered the art of looking through other cars’ windshields to catch oncoming traffic before pulling out.  I was short enough to do that, and my feet are small, ideal for the cars of that time. Somehow, the smaller the pedals, the faster the car. It was a smooth, standard H-stick shift that gave me a sense of power as I ramped up to 5th gear. The smile never left my face.  

Until the day we sold it for a “safer” family car. I couldn’t bear to do it, but I think my fiancé, now husband, took a little joy in seeing that car go. I stood at the window watching the final details of the deal go down, then had to turn away before the new owner drove it away. 

I didn’t want to lose myself completely in a family car.  I couldn’t bear the idea of going from a sports car to a minivan. Instead, I opted for the SUV with a V8… you never know when you might need it.  

Like, the time I was provoked into a race from the freeway on-ramp.  I am not sure why some whippersnapper would want to race a “mom” car, but I couldn’t pass up a chance to teach a lesson. After all, isn’t that what moms do? Besides, I needed to preserve our family’s honor. 

He revved his engine, and I returned it with a side-eyed smirk and a disapproving shake of my head.  He grinned back with a condescending nod as if to say you can have a head start. He didn’t count on my lead foot and mistook the quiet purr of an idling V8 for something less.  The light turned green. The freeway was empty. My engine roared to life, happy to be off its leash.  I giggled as I took off, and my young boys cheered me on from the backseat.  Once I hit the freeway, it took a couple of minutes before he disappeared from my rear view mirror, and not for his lack of trying. Lesson taught. Family honor preserved.

It was one of the few times since getting the “Mom car” that I was smiling again.  In the ensuing years, I won a few more races. I have no idea why SUV Dads like to race me, but again… lessons, family honor, and field trips were a little more fun.

Then it came time, the car was past its midlife, and the boys were in college. It was time to reclaim me. I could feel the restlessness in me. I wasn’t about the PTA meetings, the potluck cupcakes, or the “mom” coffee outings. I was looking to do something different, yet indifferent to everything.   

I don’t know if it was a midlife crisis or a crisis at all. I think it was another life transition, but not one that comes with gifts and an exciting future. It is one that reminds you that life is no longer starting for you. You are not a young person, but an older, experienced person.

While I would love to say I took all my experience and battle scars and marched into the next phase of my life, I didn’t. I felt displaced. A transition that isn’t always portrayed in a positive way.  The instinct seems to be to reach back into your past before kids. Car choices seem to be the easiest, most tangible way to signal that transition. 

My car choice was still reflecting that oh-hum stuck feeling.  I still wasn’t ready to part with my “mom car,” yet it needed to be retired. I couldn’t find anything I was interested in until my “car guy” son came running down the stairs on New Year’s Eve morning. “I found the perfect car for you, Mom!  A white hard-top convertible with some upgraded features. It wasn’t a V8 or twin turbos, but it had upgrades that made it faster than the standard ones, and apparently, the “best engine” ever made.  It wasn’t the sports car of my youth, but I am slowing down a bit… sometimes my hair isn’t on fire.  The irony of it being New Year’s Eve wasn’t lost on me either!

I love my car; every time I look at it in the garage, I feel joy. There is something about its lines, beautiful whether the top is up or down.  My older sons jump at the chance to drive it, and even my husband, who didn’t like the lowness of my sports car of the past, loves showing up in this car. 

Funny how things change. I am not sure I have the heart to say I want my SUV back.