Tuesday, May 16, 2017

That Bellow

     No, not Saul. Joy! My recently acquired 2009 Chevy Corvette convertible!

     There’s nothing like the bellow of an American V8 engine with a performance-oriented exhaust system behind it. Just starting the engine is enough to increase any red-blooded man’s testosterone to the “Let’s hunt an endangered species to extinction and roast it over a bonfire of old-growth timber” level. And that, more than any other reason, is why I made this entirely unnecessary purchase.

     Yes, it’s frivolous. Yes, it will anger tree huggers from coast to coast – and we do have a few here on the fabled Island of Long. And yes, what I spent on it would feed hundreds of illegal aliens for a whole year. I don’t care. It was my money and my decision.

     If I regret anything about this purchase, it would be the requirement to pay the Vampire State’s Department of Motor Vehicles a king’s ransom in sales tax for the privilege of registering Joy for use on New York roads.

     Once in a while, a man facing the back end of life must do something completely disconnected from his impending future. Something for personal gratification and nothing else. Something to make him feel as if his happiness is his responsibility to nurture and protect. Something that deals a sharp whack across the chops to the legions that demand that We the People of the United States who’ve actually made something of ourselves should feel guilty about it.

     I tell you, people, that you not forget: it’s all right to be happy. And if that’s all right, then it’s all right for anyone, once the necessities are dealt with, to buy a red Corvette convertible, lower the top, and cruise blissfully and for no good reason down the main drag of his burg with the sun on his shoulders and the wind in his hair. A nineteen year old blonde right-seat decoration is not required.

     Some time ago, I wrote about forces, both secular and religious, that strive to make us feel guilty about having done well and having chosen to enjoy it. Today, with Joy’s top down and the sun shining, was a day to remember that God loves us – that He designed the universe as He did to make human happiness possible, though not guaranteed. It was a day to spit in the eyes of the guilt-mongers. To feel certain once more that life, even if it must end someday soon, isn’t just a test of our souls.

     If you’ve been feeling old...
     If you’ve wondered if life has a point...
     If your Significant Other is looking frayed...
     If your own juices have begun to sour in their cask...

     Go for a wholly unnecessary, entirely unjustifiable, gas-wasting, CO2 spewing ride in a Corvette convertible. With the top down. Let the engine’s music resound in your ears. Let the power, and the luxury, and the simple exercise of your freedom to do whatever you damned well please, no matter who says or thinks what about it, remind you just how good it is to be an American.

     May God forever guard and guide these United States of America!


JWM said...

You f*ckin' A, dude.

And you know what's better?
20 year old in a new Vette= spoiled brat.
30 Year old in a new Vette= prolonged adolescent.
40 year old in a new Vette= mid-life crisis.
50+ year old in a new Vette+ Home free. He earned that puppy!


Groman said...

Congratulations! A single digit salute to all tree huggers and I hope you enjoy it for many years.

Backwoods Engineer said...

This post made me smile. Have fun!