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| honk, dont ring my doorbell, i'm in the car |
HONK... IF YOU’RE IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD!
In the 50’s women would rush around in the morning making sure their kitchens were clean just in case a neighbor should happen to drop over for a visit. Daily kaffeeklatsching in each other’s homes was the norm. Today, women of suburbia spend all their time in their vehicles. The only opportunity we ever have for socializing with one another is when we’re in line to pick up our kids after school or while waiting for lessons and sporting activities to end.
The horn is our doorbell. Instead of pulling up a chair in someone’s cozy kitchen and warming up a cup of coffee for a friend, we hop in each other’s vans and hand out spare bottles of water. In the past women used to run next door to borrow a cup of sugar, and exchange recipes. At the turn of the century we borrow Excedrin and exchange therapists. Millennium moms never pull out of their driveway without their personal planners and cell phones. Those big, beautifully illustrated calendars hanging in our kitchens do us absolutely no good because we are never in our kitchens.
We are all busy behind the wheel in our mini-offices making doctors and dentist appointments. I never have any paper, so I am invariably writing pager and voice mail numbers, passwords and access codes on Kleenex boxes and Happy Meal cartons. Truly organized women have those notepads stuck to their dashboards with the pen attached.
Occasionally we pass a friend on the street but are in too much of a hurry to stop, so we call each other’s answering machines just to keep in touch. If I want to spend some quality time with someone, I simply ask them to drive around with me for awhile.
As a gracious hostess, I always have a fresh bag of pretzels and a diet pop on board to offer my company. It’s almost like tailgating without the football game. And I always carry paper towels and a bottle of spray cleaner for nasty spills and unexpected front-seat drop-ins. I also have at least one paperback from the best seller list and any number of magazines and catalogues on hand to accommodate my guests.
Some of my fellow chauffeurs stock their vans to resemble playrooms. They cart around children’s books, travel games, coloring books, markers and crayons. These auto hostesses haul Barbies, blankies and stuffed animals to make their traveling tots feel at home in the back seat. Other drivers up the entertainment ante with large selections of tapes and CDs, TVs and video games for their passenger’s pleasure.
Actually our minivans should be called mini-pantries because we regularly have a healthy snack available for our hungry active children. In the near future, our automobiles will have microwaves to warm up fast foods and a fridge to keep the milk cold! A closet would really come in handy too, because my family is forever changing in and out of their clothes as we go from one activity to another.
The down side to all this living in the turn lane is the risk of having your vehicle smell like old tennis shoes when you are entertaining. In addition, kids in car pools talk! Pretty soon you’ll have a humiliating reputation for having a stinky rig. (“Mom, I hate riding with them, it always smells like sweaty clothes in there.”)
Most of the time, my trash bag is overflowing and the pockets behind the seats are disgusting. I find everything from sticky juice boxes to band instruments scattered throughout the front and back. If your home on wheels is in disarray, you can’t pretend you’re not there. You might try ducking in the back seat amid the squalor, but if you get discovered, it’s all over town. That’s why every time I stop for gas, I do a major cleaning job. Heck if I want people gossiping behind my auto.
Occasionally the exhausted supermom will get an opportunity to recline in her front seat and actually catch a cat nap during one of those long, boring outdoor sporting events. (“Honey, it’s rather chilly, I think I’ll go watch the game from the car.”) I’m parked right now in front of the building where my kids are taking tennis lessons. My leather seat is pushed back as far as it will go, and I have a new battery in my lap- top. I just called the pizza place, and dinner will be ready in 30 minutes! If I am lucky, I will edit this tonight in another parking lot while my son attends his basketball clinic. Thank God for heated seats and street lamps!
Don’t you just hate it when, right after you leave the car wash and the carpet is newly vacuumed and the windows are crystal clear and that little air freshener evergreen tree is hanging from your rear view mirror, you don’t run into a single person you know! Rosemary Durkin Snyder is a freelance writer in Burr Ridge.
Article ran in the Chicago Tribune
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Posted by roe on 2007-09-07 10:26:12 | Rating: | Views: 385
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