Driving Them Nikes

Luxury is relative.

I know I could start with something more general, like acknowledge that I haven't posted anything in a few months or talk about stuff I've been doing. But...meh.

Luxury is relative.

Take this phone I used to have. I think it was a Nokia. It got terrible reception, it had a really annoying tone when it rang, and the buttons didn't consistently work on it after the first year. I remember it didn't always turn off when I wanted it to, so I got it taken in class a few times. And the battery was screwed in, so it wasn't like I could just pull the battery pod out like you could with some of the older phones. It was a crappy phone, but it was my first phone and I was in middle school and really didn't even need a phone, so it was awesome. It was the early 2000's, so kids really didn't need phones in the first place, and I figured out at one point I could program my own ringtones, so I actually had a lot of fun doing that. The phone was not great, but it was far and above what I actually needed, so it was luxury to me.Now, that same phone today would be an abomination. It would be archaic to what phones can do now. I would constantly be complaining about it, and showing people how thick it was and pretending to try to give it away so I could get a new one. But, honestly, it would still probably be just fine as a phone. It would still make calls, it would still text, it would...no, that's about it. It would do the things that a cell phone is actually supposed to do, before we decided everyone needed to walk around with super computers in their back pockets. I think it was capable of taking pictures, but not sending them effectively, so yeah, calls and texts.

So having a phone was cool. Having a crappy phone kept things in perspective. If I just didn't have a phone, I doubt I would have really known the difference, but since I know the difference, I do my best to see the positives. It was a luxury, just like it pretty much is today, but I don't think I could ever just go back to not having a smart phone at all times. Do you think you could just go back? I don't. I don't even know for sure who's still reading this, but I know you're probably never cutting social media back out of your life now. It's not a phase, it's not something you're just trying out. This is who you are now, so get past it.

Generally speaking, I think most people take luxury in their life for granted. It’s human nature, whatever you have you end up expecting to be there, rather than being thankful that it’s there. And literally everybody is guilty of it in one way or another. I don’t care who you are. The rich kid that expects his breakfast to be ready for him every morning on a tray. The young business woman who cannot function without her cup of coffee. The old man that reads the newspaper every morning, no matter what. The little things are automatic. And for that matter, so are the big ones. The prisoner who expects to get fed every day in prison. I mean, what if one day, they just decided, “Dude, screw you, you robbed a bank. You don’t get food this week. Deal with it.” Or the homeless guy who suddenly is not even allowed to drink water from the public water fountain.

I mean, they had their water tainted in Flint, Michigan last year. And it took way longer than it should have to even get attention on it, and then again, I’m not positive that the problem has been fully dealt with even now. Of course, this is a tragedy and will probably have long reaching consequences, but at the same time, it seems unreal. It seems like the exact kind of thing that could not happen anymore in a country like ours, because someone would stop it or it would get enough attention that surely they would fix it right away. And yet, I’m positive that the minute I stopped seeing news stories about Flint, it was an assumption made in my mind (that I later corrected) that this problem was solved and I didn’t need to worry about it, and that it could never happen to me where I live. We take things like this for granted too, and they're the things that allow us to survive. What if someone really decided that you were not entitled to living, just ‘cause? Just walked up to you and took your means for continuing life and thought nothing of it? It would make you realize a whole host of things that really don't mean a damn thing, wouldn't it? And a few of you may even feel tempted to make a Facebook or snapchat post as your last act on this planet just to let people know how upset you were about it. At least a twitter update with some emoticons, because who doesn't love emoticons, right? Ughhh.

I know I’ve gotten materialistic to a degree. I don’t need my phone to have all the apps and shit on it that it does, but I do NEED my phone. What if I need to know what temperature it is in Tokyo? What if the Packers trade someone and no one near me tells me right away? Am I supposed to just wait until the news? What if I lose track of how many steps I took in a given week? Not that I ever cared about my steps before, but if I inexplicably need to review my activity, how else will I be able to answer the questions that matter? What will I do?

Or my car. There’s a great example. My car is a 2002 Ford Taurus, a shitload of miles on it (that’s the actual reading on the odometer) not great underneath the hood but decent enough that I get by, but guess what, I need that damn car. I mean, what if I’m somewhere that I don’t want to be? What if I can’t drive away from the place I don’t like? That sounds awful. I'm glad I have a car. I can control the climate in it, I can use my stereo to drown out the noises that occur outside of my car. Having a car is a good thing. And you know what, I've had worse cars than my current car that make my current car seem like even more of a luxury than it already is.

My first car was a 1989 Toyota Corolla. It’s color was piece-of-shit white. Washing it never helped. It never actually passed inspection at the car garage I had it registered at, but the guy just felt sorry for me that THIS was how much my parents valued my transportation. The parking brake didn’t stop anything, just made a really annoying sound that made me stop to see what was the matter, what I possibly could have done to make the car yell out in such pain. We took it to a mechanic once to see what it would cost to get it updated, and the guy said he couldn't from a moral standpoint. He said there was so much wrong with it, he didn't want to take our money for any one thing and that paying all of it wouldn't be worth it for a car that sucked that much.

The mechanic actually offered to drive it out back and put it down like Old Yeller for us. He said he’d do it for free.

Thing is, for the last year of high school, it was pretty much exactly what I needed it to be. It got me to and from school and track practice, eventually. It was decent on gas, considering at times there was about as much motor oil burning as gasoline. Even though the driver side rear-view mirror always fell out, it was conspicuous enough that other drivers just kind of got the hell out of the way, on instinct. I never got a speeding ticket because I couldn’t speed. The car topped out at a majestic 44 mph, during which the car sputtered like it was maxing out on bench press. Once I left the keys in it for a whole weekend by accident. I’m pretty sure someone stole it and then brought it back. There was more gas in it on Monday.

But when I would complain about it, my track coach put it in great perspective. He said, “You know what I drove when I was in high school? I drove these Nike’s.”

Well played, Coach Harris. Well played.

The Corolla was not even the shitiest car I ever had either. It was beaten out years later by a Lincoln Towncar that lasted around a month, but that’s another story.

Eh, screw it, I’ll tell you now.

And it’s not really even a story. I wanted a car around age 25 because I was sick of walking everywhere. And I found a shitty car that I thought was bad. Like bad meaning good. Bad like Michael Jackson meant it. This Lincoln Towncar had a V8 in it. It had all original Lincoln tires and rims. It also had the front and back seats torn up, the check engine light literally always was on (probably not by accident) the windshield had a crack in it just low enough that it was legal to drive, and the steering wheel was beat up. This car was a death machine, I was sure it would end up killing me. It just so happened that the first month of having it, I didn’t try to drive it anywhere besides home and work, which was right down the street, or around town in small trips like the grocery store or a concert or two. Also, the radio was busted and the speakers were blown out. So I couldn’t even enjoy riding in this car while I was unsure if I was going to survive. But I had not had a car for several years and wanted to be able to get back and forth around the city if I had things going on and didn’t want to wait for the bus to pick me up.

Anyway, finally, I tried to get it out on the highway to see my girlfriend that lived a few hours away, and it took me about 25 miles out of town before dying for good. The radiator was leaking the whole time and finally blew at the distance where no one could just come and pick me up. Axel, a friend of mine (at least we'll call him Axel here) finally got out there about 2 hours later, after I had been towed to a nearby exit from where I said I was with no reception. It was just perfect. Not to mention my girlfriend was relentless in how I never should have purchased the fucking car in the first place. And being stranded far from home (or should I say far enough from home) puts a lot of things in perspective. One of which is the concept of how much we really do have to change our perception when we think of crappy ways to get around. The crappiest, after all, is the way that doesn't actually get you anywhere.I mean, the car straight up failed at the task it needed to accomplish. If I had tried to ride a bike or hitchhike or even just straight up walk there, I would have gotten there faster. It would have taken a long ass time, but I would have gotten there, as opposed to just not ever reaching there with ol’ Wilbur. Yep, I named the Lincoln Wilbur.

So my thinking in all of this, I didn’t need the nicest car for what I was doing at any given point. I actually think it was better to have a car that I could just kind of run into the ground. The Corolla had set expectations low enough that I knew not to do anything stupid with it in the first place, it didn’t even pretend to be capable of traveling to a distant city. And obviously, when I got a new car, I wanted to have it better than the car that I had been used to that was sufficient for high school. The point is, there’s nothing wrong with taking steps forward, as long as you appreciate those steps forward. One of the best ways to appreciate what you’re given is to start out with something humble and have to aspire and yearn for better.

And always remember: No matter what you're driving, there's someone watching you drive it while all they can do is keep driving them Nikes.