I don’t know about you but every year when spring arrives I get silly. I laugh more and concentrate less. I’m always looking for an excuse to get outside in the beautiful weather. Unfortunately, our “summer” weather has just turned spring-like (definition: cool and rainy). This means I must stay indoors instead of making up excuses to go for a ride in my convertible. I love saying that; it rolls off the tongue so effortlessly. My converrrtible…was my birthday present to me, last October. My neighbor called it my mid-life celebration car as she high-fived me with a big smile on her face. It’s nothing fancy, it’s older (like me), and it has gone through a transformation of sorts (like me) with new tires, and new tie bars (don’t ask me what tie bars are but they’re new).
When I hit my landmark birthday, I cut my hair, changed the color and bought a convertible. How cliché can you get, you ask? Yes but it’s fun. What am I waiting for? My family and friends kept steering me towards “sensible and reliable” cars. I finally blurted out to the poor soul who was the umpteenth person to say those words to me, “I don’t want sensible and reliable! I want frivolous and fun!” I think it was my husband who is used to my quirks and didn’t bat an eye. I think he had ulterior motives. I’ve seen the gleam in his eye when I occasionally let him drive it. Occasionally being the key word here. Everyone in the family knows it’s my car and a week of liver and onions for dinner to anyone touching it.
The package of hair dye called the color red-brown. My daughter finished dying my hair and I went downstairs to ask my son how he liked it. He said I looked great with purple hair! I called it burgundy for a while but I gave up. “Don’t worry, Mom,” my youngest daughter said consolingly. “The purple goes nice with the white of the car. Just think if you had bought the red one.” I don’t care I love the hair and the car.
I’m not the only one who has caught on to this freewheeling lifestyle. I’ve noticed more convertibles on the road. Maybe this is because I have one now. My convertible antennae are up. Or perhaps people are realizing like me, the thrill of wind in your hair on the open road. Maybe they know that you’ve got to grab the gusto and the fun of life where you can find it. I want to have a special sign we can give each other, like motorcycle riders do with a nod of the head. We deserve our own signal. Maybe there is one and I haven’t been let in on the secret.
You know what’s fun about driving a convertible? The look on people’s faces; when they see it, they smile. Maybe it’s the car or maybe it’s the hair, I don’t care.
Now when I want to go for a ride I won’t feel guilty. After all, I’m doing a public service spreading smiles and making people feel good. My daughter insisted I name it. Not my hair the car. We would come home at the end of the day and she would throw out a name. We went through Frank (Sinatra) too old, Justin (a guy at her work) too young and Bieber-ish sounding and quite a few others until we found just the right one.
So if you see a woman with short purple hair out riding with “Sergio”, please wave and give me the secret sign! Happy driving!
After all, it’s just another Pleasant Valley “Spring” Sunday.