A retrospective look at life:Post-SVX.

[Matthewmongan]

This afternoon I was internet shopping for a new car. I was juggling a few models in my mind (911, Boxter, BRZ, Miata). All of a sudden, I found myself giving serious consideration to the Nissan Leaf, I had the website open, I was running the numbers. How could this happen? How could I start with a bouquet of sports cars and conclude with a golf cart? The answer is simple, I am a member of the walking dead. Don't be mislead by the popular t.v. show, we don't mindlessly crave living flesh, just Starbucks and buy-one-get-two-free sales at Jos. A. Bank's. We enjoy reading the Daily Record, and researching evergreen ferns for our homes in historic Roland Park. But how does one become a Yuppie? I wasn't born one, a Yuppie didn't bite me, and I always wash my hands.

Friends, I was duped, lured by the empty promises of reliability and economy. The greener pastures I hoped to find on my automotive exodus became a landscape of despair. The extra MPG comes at a heavy price. Every time I turn the key on my 2002 honda accord, some small element of my soul is extracted by that bland mechanical succubus. Like the storied Shylock, the honda demands a pound of flesh, and it excises it with deep cuts.

I am a husk of a human being, a shadow of my former self, doomed to roam the city of Baltimore in a four-door chariot of mediocrity. I sold my soul to the company store, but it's not too late for you. For the love of all that is good in this world, keep your SVXs. Drive free, carry a surplus of oil in your trunk, and refuel often. If you happen to gaze upon my lifeless face as I stare remorsefully at your car, remember that I was once like you before I lost my way.