Got room for a passenger?

 We stood in the Summit School parking lot while lightning flickered from clouds to mountains and rain began to fall lightly. We'd just finished our last Quebecois and Breton tune class, and were figuring out how we were going to get to Positive Pie for beer and pizza. Normally we would have walked, since it's only a few blocks,  but we had musical instruments, and the weather was more than ominous.
"Susan, I can give you a ride. I just need to clear a few things off the seat." said Todd.

I followed him to his car, and watched as he began rearranging the jumble in the back of the station wagon to make room for the large heap of things on the floor and seat on the passenger's side of his car. it didn't look good.

"Doug, do you have any room in the party van?" I asked. I fully expected Doug to have room. After all, four of us, with musical instruments, camping gear and food for music weekends have fit into his van in the past.

"Sorry." Doug said. "I just have too much junk in here."

At this point Todd had finished clearing the front seat.

Kevin had also walked to class, and was looking for a ride. He laughed and looked dubiously at Doug and Todd's vehicles.

Just when Kevin looked as if he'd given up hope, Tracy came out of the building. She took in the situation quickly and said "I have an available seat in my car, and I don't even have to clear it off."

As the rain intensified, we all climbed into cars, relieved to have solved the problem before the skies really opened.

.  .  .  

Although last night was a little extreme I find most people need to do some cleaning before I can sit in the passenger's seat.    Sunglasses, books, Cds and clothing are tossed into the back seat. Apologies are made for the envelopes, paper cups and junk food wrappers on the floor. I am instructed to just "put your feet on whatever's down there. You can't hurt anything."

In some instances, the clutter on the front seat comes from the convenience of tossing things to the closest spot, where they can be reached easily. In most, the back of the car is as cluttered, if not more so as the front.

One friend lives off the beaten track. He's often on the road, painting and doing minor construction projects all over northern Vermont, and he's dating a woman in Montreal, travelling across the border often.   The back end and back seat of his station wagon are loaded with tools, clothes, cans of paint, drop cloths an accordion, and camping or ski equipment, depending on the season.  I sometimes wonder how that works at the border.

Another friend can't resist a good yard sale, and has small furniture, odds and ends of metal and wood for art projects, unusual dishes or candle holders, and piles of vintage clothing in her car.

Another eats on the road. There are cereal bowls and spoons, travel mugs and food wrappers under the seats. Her books, Cds and work projects fill the back seat.

One friend once kept a rock collection on the dash, along with a boom box for road music. I would spend the ride listening to great tunes and fending off hard objects whenever we braked or went around a sharp corner.

Occasionally I have known friends with neat cars, but usually they have sedans and I have no idea what the trunk looks like, or it's their second car, and I know that the truck at home has piles of rope, cleaning supplies, tools and paperwork in the jump seats and passenger seat.

This leads me to believe that cars fill more than just a need for transportation

They allow people to plan for contingencies.  If they get hungry or cold, or want to take a swim or camp out, or even if they need to repair something, they have it all at their fingertips. If I go out, I must carry it on my back. I can't just have a flashlight on hand, or a bathing suit, or a sweater. I have to make do with what I have.

Cars also expand a person's living space. They act as an annex to an office, a tool shed, a studio, or even a kitchen.

I have no such storage options. The tent has to live in the over crowded closet, the papers all must stay on the kitchen table or in the office. The tools live under the sink or on the covered patio downstairs.

These areas look cluttered, but I am now convinced it's only because I don't have a car for the overflow.

Now there's a thought.

Maybe I should get a big old beater, just to keep in the driveway for the storage.