Reality is what you drive

Say what you will about life, reality is what you drive.

Significant birthdays prompt personal inventories. In those quiet moments before sleep, we involuntarily assess where we've been, where we are and how we got here.

Some of the mile markers include the cars we have owned along the way.

Remember the worst car you ever had? The best? The most boring. The fastest? The most dependable? The coolest?

Chances are you've been through quite a few in your time.

Psychologists say our choice of transportation says a lot about our personality.

But all too often what's parked in our driveway is more of a financial statement than a Rorschach Test.

Over a lifetime, there can be peaks and valleys when it comes to our vehicles. And if you make a list of yours, you'll see what I mean.

Clunky station wagons

My first car in high school was a 1961 Volkswagen. That was followed by a 1968 Camaro, '71 VW convertible, '73 Chevy Nova, '76 Chevy Malibu station wagon, '79 Ford station wagon, '84 Saab, '70 VW Squareback, '71 Karmann Ghia convertible, '80 Mercedes 300D, '90 BMW 525, and lately I've been through a few Buicks.

That's about 15 cars in roughly 45 years for an average of a different car every three years. Some I kept much longer. Some went to an early grave.

But if you put your cars on a graph, looking closely at the quality and quantity, you can pretty much chart your life history.

That '68 Camaro was a college car, a gift from my parents for being a good boy. Then I wasn't. That car went away when I lost my driver's license for speeding and ended up hitchhiking my way through college.

The VW convertible was a cool car. I bought it while on active duty in the Air Force. Life was carefree. Then I got married and had three children.

Poor man's Porsche

My early married years were represented by a series of clunky station wagons, followed by a beat-up VW Squareback. I bought it on my way out of town after the divorce. I can still smell the oil burning.

The Karmann Ghia convertible was a poor man's Porche, which at times held everything I owned.

The old diesel Mercedes was great when I was driving everywhere covering sports. A used BMW made me feel like I was clawing my way back. Now I drive Buicks because they suit my temperament.

Chances are, your car chart would be just as revealing.

While you talk about being successful in your 30s, that Plymouth K-car said something else entirely. And if you thought you were pretty cool in your 40s, we know about that mini-van with the hubcap missing.

So make your own list, if you dare. And don't leave any out.

It's the cars you try to forget that say the most about the road you took to get here.

Reach Ken Burger at kburger@postandcourier.com or 937-5598. To read previous columns, go to postandcourier.com/burger.