ode to the veedub

Maybe it's because we have never driven anything but old, worn-out used cars.  And maybe those cars weren't so hot even when new.  Maybe it's because you come from the lands of our ancestors and we feel some connection to the way you think.  Maybe we like the idea that you can eat a more natural diet, like us, and you and the earth can be better off for it.  

I like the way you listen when talked to, unlike our other cars, who seem to be having a conversation with someone else that we have to interrupt constantly.  

 Most of my fellow countrymen overlook you in favor of larger brutes or muscley jocks or arrogant high-priced trophy cars.  But you keep showing up anyway, conservatively sipping your cocktail while most everyone else is drinking themselves silly.  I love that about you.  

In my family, we mate for life.  We don't go through vehicle relationships with abandon, moving from one beauty to the next when the romance first wanes.  We replace things, we fix things, we keep going until tragedy strikes, or a family member finds themselves without wheels and nowhere to turn.  Maybe that's where the German in us meets the German in you.  

I love that you keep the important things and lose the rest.  I don't need a machine to move my seat for me, but I want my ears sung to and my windshield wiped clean.  

I have lovingly placed my magic crystal rock on your floor.  That's like a wedding ring.  

Here's to many years of happiness