I'm getting old and not fond of feeling cold, and there's no way I'd put the top down in that weather, that's truly an act of youth-that-doesn't-think-of-wind-damaged-skin, but this blog really made me miss my convertible. We are having absolutely perfect top-down weather here, and I'm driving a sensible sedan, purchased to transport my husband and his wheelchair. It's a perfectly good car. I like it. It's...fine. Really.

My VW Cabrio went first to Girlchild, then to Carmax as a trade-in on the sensible sedan. (Girlchild scored big in the automobile rearrangement of '01 - she got her father's brand new stick shift Sentra with the high performance package to take to college, where it has served nobly as both fun to drive car, rolling closet, and dumpster.) Anyway, I miss having a convertible. I am torn, I can't decide which I miss more, a convertible or an SUV. I do not need a convertible. I could use a truck or an SUV. But every time I see the VW Bug convertible, something in me goes AWWWW...it's just such a chick car. I had a Cabrio - which is also a chick car. Mine was champagne beige, with a stick shift that had to be special ordered because apparently chicks don't usually drive sticks. The salesman was so glad I demanded one, he said they were slugs with an automatic - actually it was pretty much a slug with a stick too, but it was so darn cute, who cared?

Florida is not that great as a convertible-owning state, except at this time of year. During the summer it's way too hot to put the top down - it's not bad while you're moving, but if you're sitting in traffic it becomes what I believe a steak experiences under a broiler. And we sit in traffic a lot here. I must remind myself of this, because at this moment I have an insane urge to trade in Ye Sensible Sedan on a Bug convertible. Must...fight...urge.