|The Road Beckons|
Never did pin down the moment it first occurred to me, the notion that this freight ship they call a MINI van, object of my ceaseless commuter scorn, deserved plausible consideration for our growing family. I think it begun as an ironic statement- "I should just get the BIGGEST minivan I can find.." and then I suddenly found myself ogling one at the Chrysler dealership.
I stepped (yes, stepped.... it's that large) inside the biggest, momliest, suburbanliest one in the showroom, the Chrysler "Town and Country" (still armed with ironic attitude, you understand), and at once was overtaken by an instinctual desire to ferry my little ones across the planet in this thoughtfully outfitted space ship.
It took some time for me to wrap my head around this monumental purchase. Before acceptance, came denial. I hope the following coping mechanisms may be of some value to anyone embarking on the minivan experience
Step 1: Coming out.
First hurdle: How to "come out" about my new wheels when I had for so long proclaimed my abject loathing of all things "van." Briefly consider donning high-rise tapered jeans and mock turtle neck for the purpose of doing modelling shots in auto but am instead overcome by laziness. For what it's worth, my research reveals that Wrangler still carries the perfect jeans in every colour.
Step 2: Look the part.
To be an authentic minivan driver, one must possess sneakers of the whitest white (never to be used for working out). Try to act casual and mumble inaudibly when other mom at school drop-off asks you where you work out, obviously alluding to the fact that you are wearing clothing worthy only of intense aerobic exercise.
Step 3: Redefine the part.
Find ways to justify this purchase with a separatist attitude towards other minivan drivers (who always dreamed of owning one) by prefacing your dirty secret with the disclosure that you swore you would never ever be a minivan driver, no matter how extensive your brood became, but gave in to the impracticality of stuffing six car seats into your VW Jetta.
|Czar of the Expressway|
Step 4: Be the part.
Immediately begin to assume new role as Czar of the Expressway by attempting to drive the requisite 10-15 miles over the speed limit, honking and gesticulating at drivers who stand in your way. We would, were it possible to accelerate to levels worthy of ticketing, however, find that once adequate speeds have been met, we have just about arrived at our destination. (Knew we shouldn't have switched to ECON mode, as are now feeling that the sedan behind us is judging our inability to merge with traffic without causing considerable delay).
Step 5: Accept your limitations.
Our ride is luxurious, to be sure, but it does not come without its own set of inconveniences (for which I have developed some unconventional solutions).
Our considerable length can make K-turns tricky- we use the Cyrillic Z-turn instead!
This also causes us to question our ability to park in our regular size garage without hitting the front wall- that's what the rear view camera is for! (and with 4" to spare).
It is impossible to open the trunk without also having the garage door open- we don't get enough frigid November air anyway!
We go 0 to 60 in 7 minutes, so we bask in the knowledge that we are saving on fuel, effectively eliminating our carbon footprint.
|Prior to lift-off|
We understand the difficulty one faces in transitioning from car driver to minivan operator but firmly believe in the effectiveness of our methods. Should you have some helpful survival techniques for the newly vanned, we implore you to share them on our website.