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    'In the first place, we should insist that if the immigrant who comes here in good faith becomes an American and assimilates himself to us, he shall be treated on an exact equality with everyone else, for it is an outrage to discriminate against any such man because of creed, or birthplace, or origin. But this is predicated upon the person's becoming in every facet an American, and nothing but an American...There can be no divided allegiance here. Any man who says he is an American, but something else also, isn't an American at all. We have room for but one flag, the American flag... We have room for but one language here, and that is the English language... and we have room for but one sole loyalty and that is a loyalty to the American people.'

    Theodore Roosevelt 1907

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How Wives View Men and Their Toys

I can’t offer you a scientific explanation for the mysterious chemistry that there is between men and their cars because, I’m a man. But there is something about getting behind the wheel of a powerful monster that brings out the boy racer in nearly very man I know and no, it’s nothing to do with the er…extension theory. In my mind I think it’s more about control.

Let’s face it, although most men won’t admit it there’s a not a lot that your average adult male has the better of. If they think they wear the trousers in their household, they’re mistaken. And I’ll let you into a secret, most men know this. And we know that our wives know too. And we know that we are given this illusion of control, courtesy of our other halves, just to keep us happy.

Let’s face it a lot has changed since the good old Stone age times when men were really men. Now, I’m afraid to say, we’ve nothing to do. There’s no competition. There’s nothing to test our mettle against. In other words there’s no real meaning to our existence anymore. When the dinosaurs became extinct I’m afraid, so did we. No dinosaurs – no real men. So it’s obvious isn’t it?

There’s only one beast still around that we can test ourselves against and I don’t mean our wives. I’m talking about the combustion engine. Put it on wheels and what do you get, that’s right, the motor car. A monster of our own making that we must tame, that we must control, that we can take to the limit daring it to fight back, and of course, sometimes it does. So there’s your answer, an element of risk. That’s what we men need in our sad little lives, an element of risk. Just like when we hunted the dinosaur club in hand. An element of risk that sometimes, just sometimes, ended with fatal consequences.  And unfortunately, that risk comes when we tell our wives that we would rather go to a car show on Saturday than spend the day with her choosing flowers for the garden.

That is not always the case though. One couple I know,  Barry and Lori Bryan, have a good thing going. They both love their muscle cars.  Lori drives her black Nova and Barry drives his gray Nova.  Both love the car scene and visit many of the local cruise-in sites. But unfortunately, not all couples are as evenly matched when it comes to cars. So, how does your wife feel about your car passion? Does she join in, tolerate, or just down right hate it? Post a comment and let us know.


4 Responses

  1. Great article Jerry ! feedback is a super idea

  2. Thanks, Chuck. I’m a glutton for comments/feedback. It lets me know if folks read/enjoy the articles.

  3. I’m glad to be a part of my husband Barry’s hobby. It is fun to be at the car cruises to mingle and talk with various different people who enjoy cars. One thing that I have noticed is that people that love cars are very personable and friendly and it’s fun to share in everyone’s stories.

    • Lori, it was good seeing ya’ll at Shady Grove this morning. Wow! What a day and what a turn out. And thanks so much for stopping taking the time to comment. Like I told Chuck, I thrive on comments.

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