You Don't Have to Drive a Car to Feel Free

My car died a sudden and, I hope, very painful death earlier this year. The engine made some ghastly gurgling noise; she sputtered to a stop and that was all she wrote for my trusty ride, a 1998 Toyota Tercel I just call Ol' Red. I've been mad at that car ever since.

There are a few things I miss since the witch left me, but really, I can sum it up in one word: Freedom.

Freedom is the ability to get up and drive to the store at 2 a.m. because I am suddenly craving popcorn and a Reece's Peanut Butter Cup. No, I'm not pregnant. If I were, that would be a neat trick and could possibly signal the second coming. It's just how I eat popcorn, whenever possible. I don't remember why I started combining the two. I think it has something to do with the seeing movies at the local neighborhood theater as a kid. And while I really don't need to be eating a lot of popcorn and Reece's Peanut Butter Cups, I like having the option of satisfying that craving or any other craving for that matter.

Freedom is a long drive out in the country, listening to Heart songs, and hunting for deer in a humane way, with a spotlight and camera. It's something my ex-girlfriend and I used to do. Not having a car has certainly affected my ability to do that. I mean, there's no cigarette lighter receptacle on my bicycle, so where would I plug in the spotlight? But it really wasn't Ol' Red's fault this activity ceased to exist in my world. No, I blame the ex for that. Thanks hon.

And then there's the freedom of hopping in the car, driving down to the coast, car filled to the gills with fishing gear, anticipation oozing out of every pore, to experience my favorite thing in the world to do when I don't have a guitar in my hand: FISHING! I am fanatical about fishing. It's the only non-musical activity in which I am able to practice patience.

Believe me when I tell you it's not about what I catch, because after all, it's called fishing and not catching. If it were about the catching, I assure you, I would have given up on my beloved past time a long time ago. I can't remember the last time I caught a decent fish. But I've caught lots of great memories along the way. And that's time well spent.

I miss my car, but I really miss the freedom it gave me. I haven't been fishing in over two years. Having grown up with a rod and reel in my hands, that is a painful loss. But I console myself with the fact that I've lost 45 pounds since the car died and I know I would never have done that on my own. I was forced by life circumstance and now I actually enjoy riding my bicycle for fun and not just to get from point A to point B faster.

Having a car is the conduit to one type of freedom but it is not all encompassing; There are all sorts of freedoms. Not having a car actually opens to the door to other freedoms, like the freedom to sit here at this computer and write this article instead of going to a movie because I have nothing better to do with my time. I've also been doing a lot more reading, guitar playing and song writing, things I never spent enough time doing when I could be out doing other things.

Having a car certainly made life a little easier. But it didn't necessarily enhance the quality of my life and strangely, not having a car has. It's hard to remember there was a time when not having a car was the norm.