Convertible Confessions

Let me set the scene: yesterday I was driving around in my Bug (not a leisurely drive but a quick trip to downtown Austin to pick up Frank’s wallet which he left in a cab—another blog). So I’m driving around in my Bug and it’s a warm 82 degrees, sun’s shining, etc. That’s when the convertible guilt sets in.

Those of you who drive one know what I mean. If it’s a really nice day and you’re driving around with the top up, you look like a fool. Everyone glares at you just like they would if you had a pool and didn’t use it. Or if you lived next door to a Chick Fila and doesn’t get a chicken sandwich and lemonade every day. Or if you could speak fluent Turkish but never went to Turkey.

So in an effort to avoid being a Turkish-speaking loser, I pulled over and put the top down. It was hot. But I looked cool and people even honked at me so it was worth it. And then, a convertible miracle—a kick-ass song.

Really, almost any song sounds good when the top is down but this song was particular perfection—Toto’s Africa: Gonna take some time to drag me away from you. There’s nothing that 100 men or more could ever do. I caught some rays down in Africa. Gonna take some time to do the things we never could. Mmmm….mmmm…

It’s about that time that I thought, “I really need to write a blog about why Toto rocks.” But then I remembered that the only two songs I know by Toto are this one and Rosanna (which is about Rosanna Arquette—a little fact I tell Frank every time it comes on even though he doesn’t know who she is. I have to say Courteney Cox’s husband’s sister).

But then I experienced another side of convertible guilt. I pulled up to the light and one of my homeless friends was there with a pretty good sign: “Layed off. Single Mom.” Poor gal. With those spelling skills I believe her! There she was standing there in the hot sun begging for money and here I was, jamming out to Toto in my silver bug: I caught some rays down in Africa…”I couldn’t decide if I should give her money or not. Will she spend it on drugs? Or a junior bacon cheeseburger at Wendy’s? (I was just gonna give her a dollar.) Luckily, the light changed and I could move on (and so could my guilt).

By the time my drive was over I had some sweaty legs, the beginnings of a sunburn and some nasty, tangled convertible hair. But I least I didn’t feel guilty. And at least I didn’t waste my Turkish skills. And at least I knew all the words to Courteney Cox’s husband’s sister’s ex-boyfriend’s song.