My husband and I were coming back
from a matinee over the weekend
and a new, shiny red Corvette passed us
on the interstate.
"Oh, wouldn't that be fun," my husband said,
with a twinge of melancholy in his voice.
It wasn't a question.
It was a statement.
-Coming from a man who has never shown
too much enthusiasm for fast cars
or fancy transportation.
Give him a pickup truck
with a dead deer in the back,
and he is in heaven.
I studied him for a moment
as his wistful eyes followed
the snazzy wheels.
Fun?
"Are you serious?" I thought.
First of all, let me say
that neither one of us
could fit very comfortably
in that luxury cruiser.
Bending down on our aging knees
and prying ourselves into
those bucket seats
might possibly take a shoe horn
of gargantuan proportions-
or enough WD-40 to bathe an elephant.
Secondly, I would be very afraid
that some hidden, primal force
might stir within my husband's vanity
and cause his usually slow-pokey demeanor
to rage into a very expensive
driving violation.
I don't know about you,
but once the car reaches 80 mph,
I no longer trust seat belts.
I pull out my Bible
and start playing catch up.
Fun?
Really?
Then I began to worry that
maybe my husband had reached
that pinnacle of restlessness...
that door where flashback = freedom...
that lustful mourning of youth
and irresponsibility
and throwing caution
(and good sense)
to the wind.
I stayed silent.
Until a very nice
elderly-people-type sedan passed.
"Oh, isn't that nice?" I said, pointing out
the prudent automobile
with a sweet caress to my husband's neck.
"You would look gooood in that." I smiled,
hoping to pump up his ego
the size of the black hole at the
heart of the M87 galaxy.
It's kinda sad, really-
that no matter how much you
love your husband-
you can't turn back time for him.
You can't relieve his burden of a job...
his responsibilities as a father...
his fear of growing older.
If I could- I would.
I'd buy him that shiny red Vette
and we'd throw caution to the wind.
We'd crank up the
"Born To Be Wild" CD,
and set off on a free-wheeling adventure.
So...
he would have that "fun"-
toying with the knobs and buttons...
and pushing the accelerator
to the limits of legality.
And there I would be- right beside him.
Seat belted and shoulder-harnessed to the max...
..reading my Bible.
