Friday, April 17, 2009 - Do you remember your first car? Do you remember that moment of freedom you felt when you knew you could just get in your car and go anywhere? Did you find yourself sitting in the driveway thinking "I can just get up and go anywhere I want"? Did you spend the day in the driveway because when it came right down to it, where the heck would you go anyway?
The enigma that is freedom is that often we are more free when we are less free. If you have a structured day, know where you go and when to go and what you will do when you get there takes away the decisions and options that eventually tie you down to stress. Stress surely takes away your feeling of freedom. Freedom is found in the simple things in life. Time in the garden away from people and places that require your attention. There is freedom in reading a book, away from the societal rules and regulations that we have to live within in order to live in peace. Remember when sex was free? Now it comes with the chains of fear of disease, fear of commitment - cause that ain't free, and fear of worse yet... offspring - cause they're not freeing (or free) either.
So what about that first car? The first car in which I sat in the driveway was a Plymouth Fury. It was easily the size of a small ocean liner and it was gun metal gray. It might have given off an air of freedom if it had been out in the middle of Lake Superior. Add a large sail of the aft end of her, and she'd of made it up the St. Lawrence Seaway. There wasn't much freeing about driving old Sherman.
It took two parking spaces and spanned across two parking meters. Parking wasn't free. It was the size of two full sized cars, and used up the equivalent in fuel. Keeping the gas tank happy wasn't free. My friends were driving small foreign cars... Hondas and Toyotas, and the teasing sure wasn't free. If I had been homeless, the two large bench seats would have provided great accommodation - so I guess a home would have been free.
But now if my first car had been a red Ford Mustang Convertible... THAT would have been freedom. The air blowing through my hair... Free! If you are driving in your Mustang today, celebrate your freedom. Today is Ford Mustang Day. Ahh the Mustang... the car with testosterone in the paint. It is possible that this is what they were driving when they said the 'freedom of the open road'?
It's also a great day to ramble off at the mouth... a little like the words on this page... Shoot me. It's Blah! Blah! Blah! Day. Go for it. Prattle on like me. Just keep talking. Talk for the sake of talking. In fact, even if you don't have a point, don't be afraid to spew at the mouth just for the sake of spewing at the mouth. Seriously, just go ahead and verbalize. Use the entire dictionary as a starting point. Heck, pull out your thesaurus. There has to be other ways to say it... find as many as you can and USE them.
So alas, there is the freedom of the open road. Just be sure to stay within the speed limits and follow the rules.
The enigma that is freedom is that often we are more free when we are less free. If you have a structured day, know where you go and when to go and what you will do when you get there takes away the decisions and options that eventually tie you down to stress. Stress surely takes away your feeling of freedom. Freedom is found in the simple things in life. Time in the garden away from people and places that require your attention. There is freedom in reading a book, away from the societal rules and regulations that we have to live within in order to live in peace. Remember when sex was free? Now it comes with the chains of fear of disease, fear of commitment - cause that ain't free, and fear of worse yet... offspring - cause they're not freeing (or free) either.
So what about that first car? The first car in which I sat in the driveway was a Plymouth Fury. It was easily the size of a small ocean liner and it was gun metal gray. It might have given off an air of freedom if it had been out in the middle of Lake Superior. Add a large sail of the aft end of her, and she'd of made it up the St. Lawrence Seaway. There wasn't much freeing about driving old Sherman.
It took two parking spaces and spanned across two parking meters. Parking wasn't free. It was the size of two full sized cars, and used up the equivalent in fuel. Keeping the gas tank happy wasn't free. My friends were driving small foreign cars... Hondas and Toyotas, and the teasing sure wasn't free. If I had been homeless, the two large bench seats would have provided great accommodation - so I guess a home would have been free.
But now if my first car had been a red Ford Mustang Convertible... THAT would have been freedom. The air blowing through my hair... Free! If you are driving in your Mustang today, celebrate your freedom. Today is Ford Mustang Day. Ahh the Mustang... the car with testosterone in the paint. It is possible that this is what they were driving when they said the 'freedom of the open road'?
It's also a great day to ramble off at the mouth... a little like the words on this page... Shoot me. It's Blah! Blah! Blah! Day. Go for it. Prattle on like me. Just keep talking. Talk for the sake of talking. In fact, even if you don't have a point, don't be afraid to spew at the mouth just for the sake of spewing at the mouth. Seriously, just go ahead and verbalize. Use the entire dictionary as a starting point. Heck, pull out your thesaurus. There has to be other ways to say it... find as many as you can and USE them.
So alas, there is the freedom of the open road. Just be sure to stay within the speed limits and follow the rules.
