Car People


My Bubs and I are Car People.
Who knew?
What started with a movie coercion–the Bubs hates theatres–erupted into a newly found obsession with cars: pretty ones, with shiny chrome and guttural exits.
Because before the film, we nibbled at popcorn during the commercials when lo and behold, up popped an ad for a show called “Grand Tour,” which we immediately found upon arrival at the casa. One too-quick two-season streaming binge led to dabbling within around 17 seasons of “Top Gear.”
Television perusal I would not have seen if not for dragging the Bubs to see…whatever that movie was…I’m sure it was great.
Hm.
(I’m sure it was a top quality film, Oscar-worthy, but perhaps not memorable…)
Between episodes of “Top Gear,” the Bubs and I are ever on the lookout for “cool” cars, which led to the City and a car show.
I’ve noticed our ideas of “cool” often differ.
Where I appreciate “Muscle” or “Cute,” Bubs raves over “Tech” or the vehicles he dubs with the obscure-and-can’t-quite-be-pinned-down term, “Sweet.”
Whatever the verbiage, I’m sure my boy and I are saying the same thing, right?
Anyway, he’s young. He’ll learn.
I’m kidding! Of course he’s not going to like the same style as me. It’s personal taste. And again…he’s young…and he’s still in training.

Ah, the Grand Tour

My Bubs doesn’t like to go to the movies, which defies his DNA, but I roll with it.
love going to the theatre, so if Mama wants to see a movie, Bubs gets bribed.
I’m okay with that. A tiny bit of sugar now, means I see my film and I get to play the mean ol’ “But you already had sugar today” Mom card.
Win/win.
The last movie we saw was Ferdinand. While I didn’t love it like I hoped I would, it was a cinematic adventure on a Friday night, complete with popcorn and a sticky walk to the exit. Great stuff, right there.
But oddly, in the pre-show commercial run, an ad for Grand Tour flickered to life.
Neither Bubs nor I had heard of the show or any of its three hosts, but the two-minute snippet was humorous, plus…cars. Fast cars.
Bubs was in, and since I love comedy and watching questionably dangerous car maneuverings, I was in, too.
We found all of season one and watched every episode. The boy and I are hooked.
It streams on Amazon, it’s currently airing season 2, and each Friday, voila, a new episode.
I get a Friday night thing to watch with a handsome boy, my son doesn’t have to enter a theatre, plus the show — a few irreverent, jump-to-the-screen-or-remote-to-hide-stuff-from-the-youth portions aside — is fun to watch, adventurous, and features gorgeous scenery, plus…cars. Fast cars.
Now, everywhere we go in our boring brown truck, the Bubs and I ride along with eyes peeled for any one of the numerous shiny toys featured on the show each week.
So far, cruising the streets of the Big City, we’ve seen five or six Alfa Romeos, innumerable Mustangs, Porsches, and BMWs, and one Bentley.
It’s car Bingo.
Bubs wants one of each.
My wish is that he someday can afford even one of them.
Because someday I’ll once again play the Mom card and refuse to let him buy one. Even if he’s forty years old. Because…cars. Fast cars.
There’s not enough bubble wrap in the world.