Yesterday, I watched as someone in the neighborhood cleaned out his car. First, he started with towels, mats, sweaters and jackets. An old computer. Next, backpacks, toys, bottles, carry out containers. All this from one side of the car. The floor under his steering wheel contained papers and cans. When he brought out a jacket, pants and shirt from the other side. I assumed that was for the times when he needed more formal attire. By now, I had been standing at the window long enough for my knees to give out. The scene was comical, but also fascinating—like watching Pandora open her box of troubles. Then I started thinking about what a messy car says about a person. How clean is your car?
My husband’s car has always been immaculate. No stray papers or bottles, anywhere. No spills or extra clothes. Seat pockets have maps and umbrellas neatly tucked away. My car is a different story. The trunk, especially, has reusable cloth bags and miscellaneous plastic bags with things I mean to return or take to the Goodwill. The back seat is empty because I seldom have passengers. In the front seat, there’s a basket for masks, receipts, sun glasses, a cap, Kleenex. The floorboards show a winter’s worth of pebbles. The dashboard is dusty. I’ve never seen my husband manually dust his dashboard, but on the other hand, it’s always shiny and clean. How does he do it? Wish I knew.
Anyway, this got me thinking about different attitudes toward car ownership. My car has never served as a status symbol for me. It’s just a modest sedan that gets me from point A to point B. And since we have a garage, it’s not rusty or dirty . It isn’t full of junk, but it’s not perfect, either. I’m not proud of my carelessness.. I respect people who take pride in having a clean car, inside and out. I think it means they’re not only well organized, but responsible human beings. So, I’ve made a resolution to do some spring cleaning in my car. But maybe not today. I’ll wait for warmer weather.