The Things That Drive Us

Men and their toys—or should I say, cars? And I don’t mean toy cars. A man’s image is often tied to what he drives; most women are no different. The other day when my friend, Betsy, and I went to Radnor Lake State Park to hike, a Porsche in the parking lot caught our eyes. There was an older man behind the wheel whose face took on a smug expression when he saw us looking. He seemed pleased to be noticed as he simply sat in the parking lot with his motor running, apparently more interested in being seen in that car than on any hiking trails.

Betsy loves to spot expensive cars, especially when there’s a good-looking man behind the wheel. As we were headed home from the park, she started salivating over the Rolls Royce driving abreast of us. The driver appeared to be about thirty and we wondered if he was a chauffeur, a trust fund baby, or just a brilliant man with a lucrative career. Whatever the case, she found his car fascinating—and maybe him, as well.

I maintain that cars have never been a big deal to me, as long as they’re reasonably clean, comfortable, and reliable. I’m more interested in a man’s personality, integrity, and heart.

But then there was the sports car my husband bought the day before our first date, the Datsun 280ZX. It was a good-looking car, dark brown with tan leather interior, and I felt quite content to melt into its cozy bucket seat as we roared off down the road.

I’m sure we would have ended up married even if he had been driving an old Chevy Impala.

Wouldn’t we?



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