Well, by now everyone knows how much I love old cars, especially anything from the 1970's. There's just something cool about that long front-end that has me in love. There's a lot of character in those old muscle cars, and I would do just about anything to get myself a ride in one. Okay, not anything. I have a little dignity left inside that I've been saving for important stuff. Never know when you're gonna need that last bit.
But, I started thinking how it is I could love these old cars with their obtuse shapes, and yet every time I look in the mirror I hate what's looking back at me. My face is too long, nose too big, etc, etc. But I'm just a vehicle, just like any of these cars I love. My soul is right behind the wheel of an unusually shaped, sometimes beautiful, sometimes not-so-beautiful human. I'm tall, have long hair, funky, probably too skinny—though it never feels that way. Why shouldn't I allow myself to love this vehicle, just like I do all those cars?
I need to learn to love what I have. The world is full of perfect faces and body shapes, but I'm different and dammit, it's time to embrace it. The world would be totally boring if we all looked like the same, like a pile of Toyotas driving around in circles (no brakes).
Well, it ain't easy. I'm still learning how to operate this thing. In the meantime, let's all just have fun crashing into each other and filing claims.