Confession...
I own a Jeep. There, I have said it. Some of you don't know me
personally, but now you know the truth. I own a gas, guzzling SUV
vehicle. I also protest against drilling oil in Alaska, support the
Brady Bill for gun control and will be in the Vagina Monologues.
But, before you close out....just let me explain. I have to own a
Jeep, I mean it is part of my storytelling. I have a great license
plate that says STORIES...I have bumper stickers that give the world a
clue as to who I am.
My Jeep is my house on wheels...my Laura Ingalls Wilder wagon..the first flight of the Wright Brothers...
I write in my car (not a safe practice!!)...read in my car (also not
a safe practice!) sometimes enjoy other activitie in my Jeep (I'll not
even go there!!)...I cry and eat McDonald' burgers in my Jeep (did I say
McDonald's, I meant soy burgers from the health food store, really I
did!!
I carry microphones, work out clothes, walking shoes, scraper,tapes
for the tape player, 8 pair of ice skates (well, you never will know
when you run across a lovely patch of ice, meet 7 folks who also need
skates)...a cowboy hat (!)...musical instruments..empty and full water
bottles, candy wrappers (they were from a hitch hiker I picked up once,
and that is the truth)...and a lovly prism that bobbles from my rear
view window.
Today my Jeep will turn 100,000. I have had three Jeeps during the
past few years...all run 250,000 mles..I think Jeep should be reading
this and letting me do their commercials..I am a walking (I mean
driving) testimony to their durability.
Besides, I think I look cool in my Jeep. When I work at schools,
the kids are all impressed when they carry my stuff out to my Jeep, "is
that yours?" they ask in amazement.
"Yes," I say with pride looking at my beginning-to-be-rusted, bumper stickered, covered with Indiana salt Jeep,
"Yes, that baby is all mine!"