I’m driving a dead man’s Cadillac. I inherited it from my father-in-law, who generally had a disdain for my choice of vehicular transportation and in a way willed it to me upon his death last year. It sat in his condo garage for about a year before we decided to get it road ready and put it into service.
You see, my preferences in automobiles are fairly simple…I like my cars reliable and paid-for. Which is why I had been driving a 2000 Windstar minivan until I started driving the 2000 Seville (I do need to note here that it’s fairly small, not an ocean liner on wheels.) And it is comfortable, reliable, and yes, paid-in-full.
Before the Windstar I drove one of the first Jeep Cherokees well into the 100,000 mile-range. Before that, well, some of those are just too embarrassing to mention – the worst being the Plymouth Volare that was yellow with a black faux leather top and black interior. It was like driving a warning sign — danger, ugly car ahead!
Which leads me to the reason for this post. The fact that I’m driving a Cadillac is a bit of a misrepresentation. It’s not a car I’d choose for myself, and part of the reason I’m driving it (in addition to my basic cheap and reliable criteria) is that my husband likes having it around as a reminder of his Dad. I was reminded of him and his long-time companion one day when I reached over to flip the passenger visor and about a dozen dining and senior citizen discount coupons fell on the floor. I could almost see them driving and deciding where to eat based on the two-for-one specials. But a Cadillac really isn’t my style, which many of my friends and colleagues have been quick to point out.
I’ve posted previously that I’m moving my blog to a new neighborhood. My new blog, which will retain the Inside Quixtar name, will have a new look that plays a bit on my nickname for this blog — Bobblehead. While I’m dropping Bobble as a moniker, the site will actually make me into a bobblehead. I’m not one who likes to be photographed nor likes any photographs of myself — in my mind’s eye I look the way I did when I was 23, and when I see a photo of me I have to confess that I wonder who that person is. But, I was swayed by those who urged a physical representation as a measure of authenticity that there’s a real person behind the blog. So I’m going to look like a live Bobblehead. To me it’s a great compromise to having a photo — making it fun and in a way, poking fun at myself.
There were several members of my team who were convinced that I wouldn’t go for any photo, and I got several lovely designs for my blog, including a really funky paisley ’60s or ’70s design that was orange, pink, and purple. Loved that theme for my office, but if a blog is a real person talking about real stuff, you better be able to see what you’re getting. Even if what you’re getting appears to have an abnormally large head!