Or...
It's not about the car.
I mean it is about the car, but it's not about the car.
I put this on my Facebook page, but if missed it, have a look.
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It's never too late to be what you might have been. George Eliot
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- A Novel Woman
- Montreal, Quebec, Canada
- A Novel Woman, AKA Pamela Patchet, was unwittingly born and raised in Toronto instead of Paris. She worked her way from A&W carhop to political advisor to advertising executive where, on any given day, she was called upon to soothe disgruntled clients, cajole temperamental artists, juggle multi-million dollar budgets or locate trained penguins for television commercials. She married a handsome dentist for love and a lifetime of free dental care, raised three kids, and established a freelance writing career, not unlike her earlier jobs, minus the penguins.
3 comments:
When my husband and I first saw this on TV, I let it finish, then looked at him and said, "If you ever hunt down the crapvan and buy it back for me I will kill you."
Some cars are worth it. Some cars just need to be hauled to Mexico and disappear forever. Like the crapvan.
That's funny. We had a small aluminum boat we called The Crapster.
And I agree about the car. We had an old Taurus that broke down so often we called it The Taurasaurus.
Taurasaurus. I absolutely love that.
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