“Honestly, if you’ve never taken your BGC on a road trip, then you really haven’t driven. There’s nothing like a 700—1,000 mile road trip. My BGC floated through those NY, PA, MD, WV, VA, and NC-to-SC miles like southbound cirrus clouds gliding swiftly towards serenity.”—F. Theresa Gillard
Status: Quo Minus
By F. Theresa Gillard
BOSTON Massachusetts—(Weekly Hubris)—10/12/2015—So, I know you’re wondering what catapulted my fingers onto these oh-so-not-familiar keys (again). You know, knowing my life, it wasn’t a glorious happening—like winning the 2015 HGTV Dream Home on Martha’s Vineyard. How cool would that have been? Weekends on the Vineyard pretending to be rich and carefree. Ah, the almost life.
Nope, definitely not that. Instead, I was abruptly awakened by a splash of caffeine. That elixir that so many cannot function without—the one that’s making Starbucks and Dunkin’ Donuts gazillions.
Now, to continue, we must go back to last year, around this time. I figured it was time for me to grow up and get a big girl car, henceforth known as a BGC. Not to worry, my 2003 VW Jetta 1.8 Turbo still holds a special place in my heart (And, no! It’s not for sale). I really am not a grown-up, so I really wasn’t sure what a BGC looked like, but I figured that I’d know it when I saw it.
Whilst Jetta-ing around, conveniently forgetting my BGC self-identification, I noticed a friend’s car. It was so cute. I had no idea what it was, but I knew that I’d found my adult version of the Jetta. That friend, Erin, was saying something about how it was the perfect car for her dogs (and New England snow).
Here’s a pic of my BGC’s first New England winter, and boy was it a doozy.
I spent so much money on snow removal that I should have bought an industrial grade snow blower. And, if that wasn’t bad enough, I got a roof leak from an ice dam. (Don’t ask: just imagine.) Then, paid $1,900+ to have the roof shoveled. Again, enough to buy those roof-heating thingies.
I ain’t gonna lie. My native South Carolinian self was screaming for those coastal palm trees. Yet, my transplanted New England self won out, and so did the snow. We got a record 9 feet (110.6 inches) last winter. And, for my efforts to clear that snow from our walkways, sidewalk, and driveway, I got a nice abductor muscle strain that is still aggravating me (injured last February: like, for real?).
Let me tell ya, my BGC plowed through that snow like it was in a commercial. I felt like Will Smith’s lil’ girl—the one who had that song about whipping her hair back and forth. Except, insert BGC every time she says, “hair.” And, insert “drive” every time she says, “whip.”
I was driving here, there and everywhere. Of course, for me, that simply means to work and back home. Plus, best of all, my BGC conquers snow piles in the parking garage. My Jetta did great too, but now I don’t need Blizzaks, and the clearance is heavenly.
Here’s a pic of my BGC having fun making Audi snow angels.
Honestly, if you’ve never taken your BGC on a road trip, then you really haven’t driven. There’s nothing like a 700—1,000 mile road trip. My BGC floated through those NY, PA, MD, WV, VA, and NC-to-SC miles like southbound cirrus clouds gliding swiftly towards serenity.
Even though I’m leasing, I am obviously enjoying pushing my mileage limit. You gotta live, right? Besides, not having to get a stinky ole rental car was beyond heavenly. Just Q5-ing around Anderson, South Carolina to Atlanta, Georgia to Charlotte, North Carolina, and every place in between.
I’ve driven 1,000-mile trips (2,000+ roundtrip) so, so many times. First, in my white Ford Probe. Later, in my calypso-green Ford Probe turbo. Then, in my canary yellow Ford Ranger Splash, which was quickly followed by my purple Ford Ranger Splash Super Cab. And, finally, in my most recent scorch-the-road Jetta 1.8 Turbo.
I have thoroughly enjoyed all of my cars/trucks: fun, fun, fun. But, I gotta tell you that my BGC is off the charts. It’s one of those gotta-drive-it-to-believe-it vehicles. You feel as though you are enveloped in luxury. The ride is beyond smooth. Pot-holey Boston streets disappear—absolutely seamless.
I lived in Fords for a long time. When I bought my Jetta, I was influenced by my brother Brian’s love of VWs. Volkswagen is a gateway ride to the Audi—practically on the same dealership lots.
I know that women are not supposed to be in love with their cars. I’ve been in love with cars since I first saw my father’s Model-T Ford. What a classic. Takes my breath away even now just thinking about it. And, my Mom’s ‘57 Chevy. If you know the 50s, and Chevys, I need not say more.
My brothers share my car obsession. Interestingly enough, they are all in some way involved with cars. Travis will sell it to/for you or trick it out—your choice. He can hook you up with everything from window tint to custom rims.
Rinard enjoys “considering” cars, but gets side-tracked researching the benefits of a gluten free diet, sharing documentaries, Dr. Oz videos and iBooks, such as Grain Brain.
Brian works at BMW. He has Karmann Ghia and classic VW Beetle fantasies.
Junior (J.C., Jr.) owns a specialty body shop. He’s had flings with a Jetta, an F-350, and a brilliant 2002 BMW M Coupe. I experienced all of these flings firsthand and, I gotta tell you: I’d have married all of them. No flings here.
Now, they are passing on their vehicle obsessions to their children. Me, I don’t have kids. So, I’m sharing my car obsessions with you.
My Q5 has my heart. For now.
But, you know me: my heart’s not a static entity. We’ll see what the next BGC looks like.
BTW, what’s your car obsession?