Somehow I feel the failure, partly because there is a sting of truth in it, & partly because I tend toward anthropomorphism, grieving for the loss of life for a plant, believing that electronic equipment hates me, & knowing that I failed in my love for an automobile.
I have always held that Happiness is not a state of being, but rather Happiness is in the moments. For a few tiny moments in my considerable life, the stars aligned, my luck stuck, & all the points came together & everything worked. That was when I experienced an extended era of ecstatic enchantment. The blessed bliss brought prosperity, pleasure & possibilities for a life well lived.
The early 1970s: goofy, original good looks that only the young can posses because they don’t understand that it will all be gone someday. I could do nothing wrong. It all came easy to me: meaty roles in the theatre, meaty men in my bed, attention, admiration, humor, hilarity & hopefulness. Boston, LA & NYC.
Seattle 1982- 1989: Hot boyfriend, hot apartment, hot buzz about my acting on stage & in commercials, films, & TV. My image is on the side of buses, on the back page of the newspaper, on billboards, & I am mentioned in the press. We can rarely go a day without my being recognized & commented on by strangers & feted by friends. The hot boyfriend considers that it may not be all that good for me, but he remains a fan, attending all of my opening nights. I gym daily. I have single digit body fat. Sexual performance is never an issue. Never a mention that I might party too much.
Portland 2002-2006: comfortable, curious, & cultivated. We own our own home for the first time. Our Own Home. The boyfriend becomes my husband. We have respectable employment. The Husband is thin, tan, talented, sleek & sexy. He wears beautiful clothing at work & no clothing at the beach. We have hundreds in checking & thousands in savings. We vacation in NYC, seeing Broadway shows & shopping. We weekend in Palm Springs, imbibing & inhaling poolside.
For a couple of weeks, I had been eyeing a bronze Volkswagen station wagon at a car lot on the way to the gym. On one of those happy days, I walked into the lot & drove out in that station wagon. After decades of driving clunkers, I had a real automobile for the first time & it felt fine.
In my beautiful new car, handsome silver fox husband at the wheel, singing along to Tegan & Sara’s Walking With A Ghost & Dave Matthew’s American Baby from my summer mix, driving along a rustic rural road on Sauvie Island on a perfect August morning, headed to the nude beach with a book, blanket, & a thermos of vodka lemonade, having already dropped a half a hit of E… I was experiencing perfectly, profoundly happiness.
2011: barely1 ½ incomes, bills, hospital visits, prescriptions, old dog, crushing depression, strained relationships, strained budget, strained bank accounts. Yesterday, it was agreed that the Volkswagen would go. I calculated that we would save us $8000 a year by not paying car payments, insurance, gasoline, & maintenance. We will sock it away & someday purchase an old pick-up truck so we can go to Lowes, the salvage shops & nurseries. We will join ZipCar for $75 a month for 15 hours of driving (enough for the Husband to deal with clients). They pay the insurance & the fuel. ZipCar has a car parked just at the end of our block.
We will not be able to be able to be spontaneous. If the Husband forgets an ingredient in tonight’s dinner, it will require a trip to the supermarket 10 blocks away.
I have that tingle of tumult for trying something strange & unaccustomed. We will walk when willed. Bicycles are in order. I don’t need a lot: house, garden, dogs, books, music, local watering spots. Using the ZipCar & leaving the neighborhood will be our big adventure.
Your host, a decade ago, with his 1970 Ford Pickup Truck
In Seattle, I a drove a red 1970 Ford pickup truck & the Husband got around in his yellow 1960 Ford pickup. It seemed too daunting to get them both to Portland when we moved. The Husband sold his truck & I traded with my father, my pickup for a junker. I always mourned the letting go of those 2 trucks. Now with the giving up of the station wagon, I feel remorse. Why does this place I find myself in make me maudlin & make me cry? It is just an automobile; they come & they go. It always ran perfectly, it never gave me any trouble & the bronze Volkswagen Station Wagon came into my life at a point when my existence was uncommonly, uncharacteristically upbeat, & dare I say, for a moment… happy.
