A red sports car

I want to buy a Mazda RX8. I just can’t justify spending the dollars on a ‘sexy’ car. I don’t need a new car, the current one is fine. I believe in the motto ‘drive the cheapest car your ego will allow’.

The root of the conflict is genetic pre-programming verses my left brain. I find it hard to transcend the urges imposed by these so called middle years. This time of life when displays afforded by youthfulness are replaced by displays of accumulated possessions. The red sports car years. The years when the years of hard work can be used in a vain attempt to buy back some of those younger years.

I have seen it happen with family, friends and colleagues, and now, finally, myself. I feel compassion for all those newly grey haired guys driving cool vehicles. I understand the condition but understanding, in this case, is barely enough.

If you are female, or male that hasn’t yet reached middle age, imagine yourself as a ten year old walking past a candy shop with your pocket money (allowance?) in your pocket. Your saving for a new bike and know all about tooth decay but also about sugar gratification. Do you go in or do you keep the money for the bike?

My struggle is deep. Option 1; expensive holidays with the family to exotic places, education for my son or a slightly bigger nest egg. Option 2; a nice shinny new car (penis extension if you are into Freud). For the moment option one is winning. Like the child the want is in my guts not brain and, for the moment, my left brain dominates. Maybe a nice sensible Toyota Corolla wagon instead.

Maybe my darling will buy me one for my birthday - burgundy or yellow, leather interior option.