A Sherman Tank

Sherman at 7 months (72 pounds) is not often still for photographs. And never still for height measurement. So, we don't really know how tall he is. We know he is shorter than a Mastiff. But we also know he is taller than the back seats of our cars. When he rides in a car he fills the rearview mirror. Turning one's head to look for cars in the blind spot is fruitless. All one can see is yellow and white fluff.

So, for all the years that I have been amused by people who purchased special vehicles for their dogs, I am now understanding of their choice. And I am now amused by our choice of last week: a minivan for Sherman. (Or, as The Sociologist pointed out for me: a Sherman Tank.)

What else is in this glimpse into two boomers' lives? (I'm referring to Tom Bold and me, not to Sherman and anyone.) The incredible experience of going car shopping during the Great Recession. The only busy car lot we visited was CarMax. All the others were deserted. (We purchased at one of the deserted lots.) Negotiating a price was streamlined by what I interpreted as the lot manager's interest in cash flow. (The manufacturer declared bankruptcy the very next day.)

We traded in the little white truck, which was in both of our names. We hadn't discussed how we would title the minivan but we both knew—instantly—when the salesman said, "Do you want this in both names or just yours, Tom?" Any boomer woman reading this knows what happened next. It's the 3rd or 4th car that's gone under just my name.

© 2009 Mary Bold, PhD, CFLE. The content of this blog or related web sites created by Mary Bold (www.marybold.com, www.boldproductions.com, College Intern Blog) is not under any circumstances to be regarded as professional, legal, financial, or medical advice. Or education advice. Or marital advice. Or even a tip.