Old Hippie Chick

Recently the Puter Ho and I acquired a new vehicle. The '97 Pontiac I brought to this union had served well, but when the air conditioner crashed and the cost to repair it was a huge percent of the value, we decided it was time for it to go. We have a nice sedan, but it's getting a lot of miles on it and we're tired of renting the Home Depot truck to bring relatively small things home. Neither of us wanted a pickup, so a small SUV seemed the solution. A friend had recently gotten a Honda CR-V and we liked it and decided it was time to enter the small SUV market.
After a bit of research, off we went to test new vehicles. The CR-V was first. It's a nice size, but comes with few amenities, especially power seats. The Puter Ho is 6 foot and, sadly, I'm a foot shorter. Adjusting seats and mirrors is an almost daily hassle. Listen closely, because the height issue is very important. The back door on the CR-V opens sideways. No sweat. But no power seats, so we start to explore. Up a bit in size and the doors open "up". No problem, but grasping and pulling them down turned out to be a problem. I kind of jumped and hung on. I'm too friggin' old to hang like a monkey to close the back door. Even the car-like Nissan Murano's back door was difficult for me to close.
We test drove every small to midsize SUV in the Metroplex. LIke Goldilocks I climbed in, adjusted seats, drove, and opened and closed rear doors. One was just right... This sweet thing drove like my sedan , only better, the seats and mirrors remembered individual settings and glory of glories, the rear door opened and closed at the touch of a button. It was perfect. Oh yeah. In all it's cushy leather and Steinway wood trim, it was everything I ever wanted. And cost more than my first house!
We bought it. Why? Because I could manage the rear door and the seats adjusted so easily. That's the truth. My daughter said I needed a bigger rock on the hand that steers it. My mother said that "at my age" I deserve it. The Puter Ho said it had to have the Navigation package which cost what the car that goes with the first house cost.
So why is this post titled "Old Hippie Chick"? I'll tell you. I'm ashamed. I love the car. I love the comfort, the kickass sound system, the navigation, the rear door. I love it all. Hell, my cell phone rings, it mutes the radio, and I answer it on the steering wheel and just talk. But there is a part of me that is ashamed to own it. It is soooo not me. I'm all natural and not materialistic. Really. I am the ultimate hippie chick. We can leave off the "old" part. It's the first thing I have owned that really grates against everything I stand for.
In the past I've sneered at bleached, tanned, manicured bitches driving such vehicles as they gabbed away into their phones. Remember. I'm not like that.
I don't even have to touch my phone.


