I don’t really get attached to guns. Sure, the guns my dad has given me for presents, the 10,000 round Colt; I’m attached to those. But for the most part, I get about as emotional about guns as I get about baseball bats. Obviously, not all shooters feel the same way, and some feel quite strongly about guns. I imagine if I had a 25,000 Italian over/under shotgun I might be a bit more emotionally attached to that. But you know what I do get attached to? Cars.
That’s my Subaru Forester. It is the third car I ever owned, and the 2nd car I bought with my own money. It followed a 1994 Mitsubishi Mighty Max pickup truck and a 1998 Ford Explorer Sport, all of which gave great service. I shed a single, manly tear when I traded in the Explorer for that car, and that’s okay because trading in a car that’s carried you for 150,000 miles is a perfectly manly reason to shed a single tear. That’s what really gets to me about cars – all our lives are just a journey from the point of our birth to the point of our death, and for so many of us our cars are linked to that journey. My Explorer carried me around during college, back and forth to Virginia, then back to Indiana where I eventually bought the Subaru. The Fozzie drove me to work, on vacation, to my first Bianchi Cup. It carried me and all my earthly belongings when I left Indiana to move to Washington. I met my wife in Washington, and she drove the Subaru for a time; when it was finally time to move to Sioux Falls, what car did I ship across the country? Not my Charger, no it was my loyal little donkey, the Fozzie.
Even today, 95,000 miles and 7 years later, it’s great to drive. It was never the fastest car, or the best handling, but you can’t drive it on a dirt road without feeling like the car is saying to you, “Let’s go faster! I am a rally car, I really am!” There is a plucky, undeniably joyful spirit that this car carries.
If you’re wondering what the point of this post is, well to be honest there isn’t one. Some people get attached to guns. I get attached to cars. If you’d like to share a story about your favorite gun, a car you loved, or something that you carried that you’d swear has a personality, please feel free to do so in the comments.