The Car

This piece was well written, but unfortunately didn't resonate with me. I didn't know half of the terms used and couldn't sympathize with the reader for I have never been in  love with a car. I have however, seen first hand how a car can affect a man. When I was twelve I was dragged along to a car show with my uncle and male cousin. They told me how great it was going to be and how much fun I was going to have. Then we walked. For three hours. Around a field, looking at parked cars. Best. Day. Ever. Can you sense the sarcasm? They must have hated me that day, because an hour in I wanted to go. I would rather sit in one of the park cars and nap then walk around and look at them. Oh, but I had to look under the hood, then I would understand. Then I would appreciate the machine for all that it was. Nope. I liked the shiny bright coats of paint on the cars, but shiny objects can only hold my attention for so long. I found this essay to be slightly ridiculous, because I couldn't relate to the author, but I did enjoy reading it. I especially enjoyed how he talked about fooling around in the car with a girl and leaving the things she broke as little reminders of their time together.