Leaf That Car Alone!

October 18, 2006

It’s that time of year again. The family car — our poor vehicle, relegated to an open-air parking spot and exposed to the harsh New England elements — is accumulating leaves at an alarming rate. I’ve seen snipers in full-on jungle camouflage wearing less foliage than our Nissan.

Of course, if I’ve seen them, then I suppose they weren’t very well camouflaged, really.

Yes, I’m aware I just undermined my own point. Look, the car’s got a lot of stupid leaves all over it, okay? Let’s just forget the poor analogies and move on.

“And if I don’t see enough awestruck stares on the way to work tomorrow, I’m escalating the issue. I’ll tape pine cones to the damn thing if I have to.”

My wife is of the opinion — the strong opinion, it seems — that we should clean said leaves from the car. She says that the leaves make the car look ‘dirty’, and ‘ghetto’, and that there could be sap in the leaves that would ruin the paint job.

(I tried to point out that sap is mostly found in the trunks of trees, which is a whole different part of the tree than the leaves, and unlikely to damage the car. She’s not buying it.

Possibly it has something to do with the analogy I used to illustrate my point, describing how certain fluids are present in some areas of the human body, but not in others. Except in certain extraordinary circumstances. Which I took the time to describe in great detail. That may have muddied the waters, just a bit.

It really hasn’t been a good week for analogies.)

Personally, I think we should leave fallen leaves where they lie. I see those little bits of tree as badges of honor. We live in Boston, after all — there are people crammed into every tiny crevasse and hole for miles around. Just being able to park our car near a little green space is saying something. So why not let the car do the saying for us?

See, my wife believes that people see those leaves and shake their head and tsk over the way it looks. But I think they look at our car and think:

‘Gee, I wish I had a tree close enough to my studio hovel to drop shit all over my car. Those lucky sons of bitches.‘

And isn’t the point of driving the car to make other people jealous? Those leaves are doing wonders in that department. Frankly, I’ve been going out to the car every morning with a tub of Elmer’s glue and sticking more leaves and twigs onto it. And if I don’t see enough awestruck stares on the way to work tomorrow, I’m escalating the issue. I’ll tape pine cones to the damn thing if I have to. Maybe shake some lawn clippings onto the hood. I’m not above supergluing a squirrel to the fender. Seriously. Just try me.

Of course, all that work is out the window this weekend. I’m certain that when I’m not looking, and the missus toddles off to ‘run errands’ on Saturday, she’ll come back in a newly-scrubbed, squeaky-clean, and leaf-free vehicle. And then we’ll start the dance again. Autumn’s just beginning, and there are a lot of leaves left to fall. I’ll have my camo-coated squirrelly-hood-ornamented car yet. You’ll see.