Summary
After 10 years of devoted service, my minivan finally bit the brake dust this spring, and I wish I could say I had shed a tear or two with its parting.
Most men, for whatever reason, find their personal identity wrapped up in the vehicle they drive. And please don't give me those pseudo-Freudian explanations about manhood, blah, blah, blah, because I happen to feel very comfortable in that department, thank you.See the full content of this document
Extract
The 'Soccer Mom' Minivan Is Dead; Long Live My Suv
So how did driving my 1996 minivan, aka The Big Red Machine, make me feel? Like a trailer park soccer mom, that's how. Which is why I'm glad to be...
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