A longing for chrome?

Karen said, “Do you realize every car we’ve bought has been silver?”

No, I hadn’t, as a matter of fact.

But, yes: “the Corolla, the (Honda) minivan, and this one” (a used Hyundai Santa Fe Sport AWD, as of yesterday).

“Even the Volvo,” she said. Yes, even the “volume car” as our toddler son Carter dubbed it. A Volvo 240 with standard transmission that Karen taught me to drive. Loved it. Felt the road. Made me pay attention to my actions.

Four cars, all silver. Like a corporate fleet. There must be a…thing…about that. Something about color or ego or insecurity. And because we’ve bought these four cars as a couple, who’s to say who’s got the color or ego or insecurity issues?

It’s a conundrum.

But when I sold the minivan to the garage parking attendant shortly after we moved back from Massachusetts to New York City’s Upper West Side in 2007, he pointed me to a silver Bentley adjacent to our car and said, “That belongs to Lady Gaga.”

I replied, “Who?”

I did.

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