Marching Into The Peace Corps, Pt 4: Giving Up Is Hard To Do
by Americans love their cars and the freedom that comes with them, so it’s no surprise that when they go into the shop for any sort of work, we feel grounded and helpless. Giving up my car was the hardest thing I’d ever done, but there are rewards.
It’s hard to give up the creature comforts of how Americans typically define their lives, and no single item defines us more than the automobile and the freedom it brings us. You can drive anywhere on a whim, assuming the car is registered, insured, and has gas – freedom IS power.
You instinctively know it as a teen with your first license and car, but somewhere along the line, that keen awareness of freedom is lost on us. If you don’t think this is true, ask anyone who’s had to put their car in the shop even for one day – you feel helplessly grounded.
We become aware of this fact again as age sneaks up on us and muddles our perceptive abilities. Yesterday in Texas there was a report of an elderly woman who lost control of her vehicle, hit a pedestrian, and plowed into the side of an abandoned building. Thankfully the pedestrian escaped with minor injuries, but it’s the prideful inhibitions that won’t allow us to surrender the keys when it’s well past time to do so. “I have been driving all my life!” we scream in defense, not willing to admit to ourselves freedom and advanced aging do not go well together.
I am in financial trouble – that’s obvious from part one, and I was going to voluntarily surrender my vehicle to the bank instead of having it repossessed. It took a lot of soul searching to come to this decision. During a phone conversation with Laurie, one of my best friends, she asked about the car in general and I told her of my plans to give it back to the bank. She didn’t want me to do that, and instead offered to buy the vehicle from me for the price of the bank note, so I agreed. Some might think it’s ok to profit on your friends, but I’m not that kind of person. If I did that, each time I saw the person or looked them in the face, I would feel like I cheated them.
Hunger is a great motivator, and when there’s no food in the house, you have to go out and find some. This meant a fate worse than death – the “E” word was being foisted upon me. What’s the “E” word? Exercise. There are some things worse than death, and exercise is pretty near the top of my personal list. If I end up in hell, I know my punishment will be eternity on stair stepper with a monster stabbing me in the butt with a pitchfork. I keep remembering this “Garfield” cartoon where he was sitting in a chair in front of the TV with remote control in hand. He was surfing and came across an exercise program. Before the TV announcer said “exercise”, his eyes went big as basketballs and he quickly changed the channel to avoid the “E” word.
Liked it
