by James Bridges
Herbage Magazine
Gripped in. The seat feels like it was molded for me. There’s a dark gray sheen in every glance. The angle of the dash feels like a beast, yet makes perfect sense in its design both aesthetically and functionally.
I push the button. Like most, I’m going to spend a lot of time with this thing today. The quick crank and start of the push button still reminds me of being a kid and riding my first, real-deal, tricked out 4-wheeler in my teens.
Call me a kid, but I like my cars just like I loved my toys back then.
The padded leather steering wheel may not sound like much until you are on your day three of road. Synced up and tunes are playing. Damn, the sound system is nice.
I feel the engagement of the tranny as I pull back on what I hope will never change about a Jeep. That is the fact that it is NOT simple to put into gear. #Engineering matters. To simply use one finger to slap something into gear does not feel like I am driving a real piece of machinery. Sorry fairweather drivers…
The dark tinted windows make it easy for me to observe. As I have somewhat of a passion for observing. Let’s not forget the convenience of medicating.
For as long as I can recall I have had a love for cars. I surround myself with things like this. I look around and I see things that fit my taste perfectly and some are always missing a little something. For my car though. It is my world. To me that’s comfort. I can make that whatever I want it to be. I have control over it and the feelings that I have for it. I found it. I found something that makes me feel in an interesting way that I like to feel.
But it has no soul. Is that love?