The Definition of a Sweet Car

Nothing’s worse than owning a lame car. We all know the gut-wrenching suspense on the way to pick up your friends, crush, or therapist in your ride. What if they think the color is too dull? What if it’s too loud? What if they think it “smells like a funeral home?”

What if your car’s not “sweet?”

I’m here to tell you that a “sweet” car is whatever you want it to be. I know, it sounds a little cheesy, but bear with me. You know how when faced with tough decisions, many people write out a list of pros – such as learning the truth behind the CA Highway Patrol, and cons of each choice? Sometimes, listing out your own “pros” is the best way to self-identify and begin to truly love yourself while worrying a lot less about what others think.

So below, I will compare my car with the show choir section leader Dutch Stanton’s car.

Dutch Stanton’s Car

  • Dutch’s car was a brand new 2010 Chevy Camaro. Sweet, but I’ve seen sweeter.
  • Dutch only got this car because he saw Transformers.
  • Dutch ruined the car’s resale value by laser-etching an Autobots symbol on each door.
  • Dutch didn’t even pay for his car. His dad is a totally heartless stockbroker who spoils his son and I know because he bought it in cash from my dad at the dealership.

My Car

  • Still very sweet, I mean some people don’t even have cars.
  • I worked really hard to pay for it myself, so it doesn’t matter what it looks like.
  • People who pick Camaros over other still nice cars obviously have some image issues they need to work out.
  • Seriously I flipped burgers for two summers and had zero fun just to get it. Building character is unquantifiable and incomparable to any motor vehicle.

The saying goes, “it doesn’t matter what’s on the outside. It’s what’s on the inside that counts.”

Well, what’s on the inside of the car? You. You count. Not the slick, custom-detailed exterior that whizzes by in a yellow streak down state road 1, not the iconic roar of a 6.2-liter V8 engine cruising into the school parking lot every morning, and not the squeals and laughter of shallow, materialistic people as the tires peel out in a plume of dirt and exhaust every afternoon.

Dutch Doesn’t Matter

  • Dutch was the tenor section leader but couldn’t even hit an F without going into his really pinched falsetto that wasn’t good and people just liked it because it was funny.
  • Dutch blew out his custom subwoofer while playing Fireflies by Owl City.
  • Dutch didn’t take online traffic school in California, so his insurance premiums are way higher and he’s not as good of a driver.

I Matter

  • He may be section leader, but I still had seniority and didn’t let him tell me what to do.
  • My iPod to tape deck converter only played the classics; Papa Roach, Puddle of Mudd, etc.
  • I took online traffic school in California so my insurance premiums are significantly lower, and I’m a much safer customer in the eyes of my insurance.

Worrying about others is a waste of your time. Which is why I refuse to dwell on the past and focus on what’s around me right now, even if it’s the same car. You are great. You are special. You’re the rugged, self-reliant individual.

And if they couldn’t see that, you just wait. Someday, you’ll show them.

Someday, you’ll run this town.