Jeepers Creepers

Hello, it's me! Me, the schmuck that purchased the last SUV seconds before gas prices went through the roof. I am here, right here, trying to find a way to defend my decision.
But hey, we’ve all made mistakes, right? I mean, as mistakes go, this one isn’t all that bad.

Hear me out.

There I was, happy as a clam, driving my sweet little, gas-sipping Toyota Camry, never dreaming that I would ever find a reason to give it up. I mean, this little baby had 110,000 miles on it and was still going strong. Sure, it looked like some old man’s car. It was grey, with grey interior, and it wasn’t very sexy, or racy, or trendy, but wow, was it great on gas. And when Tabitha (that’s my Standard Poodle) and I would go to the beach or the dog park or just about anywhere, we were comfortable, it was a comfortable ride. Tabitha would stretch out on the back seat, lounging about while I chauffeured her around town.

Life was good.

Then came Murph.
Who is Murph?

Only the best Golden Retriever in the retrieving business, that’s who! He’s a sweet old galoot of a dog who started out life as a puppy having been bred solely for the purpose of helping some wheelchair-bound soul who needed assistance getting around. But this guy found his way out of a life of servitude, smart cookie that he is, and this Golden Retriever refused to, well, retrieve! He could not be taught, trained, wheedled, educated, sweet-talked, cajoled, coaxed, wheedled or bribed into picking up objects dropped on the floor so that they could be handed over. And really, that’s a pretty necessary skill for a service dog. What good is a service dog who won’t serve?

So he was looking for a home and, what with the “Sucker” tattoo on my forehead and all, wormed his way into my heart, home and family. Now, I can’t imagine life without My Murph.

‘Cept for one thing…..remember the Camry? Well it wasn’t big enough for two big dogs to lounge around in the back. It was only big enough for me and Tabitha. Oh it’s not that I didn’t try, I surely did (and don’t call me Shirley)….sorry…couldn’t resist.

I tried very hard. I pushed and shoved and folded and shmushed but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get two dogs to fit on one little backseat. So, it was time for a new car.
C’mon, work with me here, a new dog is as good a reason as any to buy a new car, yes?

Here’s the thing, I’ve always wanted a Jeep. I don’t know why, but I think of Jeeps and I think of rebels. I think of cruising down the beach and bouncing along mountain roads and all kinds of cool things. I’ve always wanted a bright yellow Mustang Convertible too, but no ‘Stang can hold two big dogs so it was off to the Jeep dealership for me, dogs in tow.
The Jeep Liberty worked out beautifully. It’s big and roomy and so cool looking. Mine is bright red and has a satellite radio and the seats fold down making a huge queen-size bed in the back for Tabitha and Murphy to spread out and ride in style. I love my Jeep, I really do. I got it in January and the honeymoon is not over yet. I really love my Jeep. I guess it’s true what they say, “It’s a Jeep thing…..you wouldn’t understand.”

But a funny thing happened on my way through menopause. My Jeep makes me feel really hip and brings me back to my motorcycle-riding youth when I went cruisin’ down the beach road in my polka-dot bikini on my electric-blue Kawasaki crotch rocket. It takes me back to a happier, more carefree time and I like that a lot.

But then I found out something curious. A lot of people now confess to me that they, too, have always wanted a Jeep. They will admire my car and say “I’ve always wanted a Jeep” to which I always cry “Me Too!”

What’s going on here? I thought we were all supposed to be lusting after BMW’s and Porches and Mercedes Benzes. You remember Mercedes Benz, don’t you? Oh Lord, won’t you buy me? Worked hard all my life, no help from my friends… Janis got it. Why don’t I? Oh my God, could that possibly mean that I really don’t want to be a “have not” after all?

Allow me to explain. Whenever I throw blood on someone wearing a fur coat (all in a day’s work) or burn down a Hummer or shame my leather-bound, circus-going friends (whips and chains belong in the bedroom!) I always hear the tired old refrain “It’s just the haves vs. the have nots. She’s just jealous because she doesn’t have a bunny-fur coat….money for ossa bucca or tickets for the circus and because she’s jealous, she has to pretend she is against this stuff but she’s really just a have not.”

Yep, that’s what they say. THEY, in THEIR infinite wisdom, say things like that all that time.

In your face, Haves, guess what, we don’t want your shit. We want Jeeps. Jeeps!
That’s what woman of a certain age are craving these days. And I would love to talk to a psychiatrist or psychologist or one of those people who take all the fun out of dysfunctional, and find out what’s going on here. I mean, why Jeeps? Is it a TAWANDA syndrome? Are we harking back to a more carefree time?

Who cares?
I have always wanted a Jeep and now I have one, thanks to an underachieving Golden Retriever.
Like I said, I love my Murph!