The eyes are the windshields to the soul

I think that a person's car is like an autobiographical symphony to the senses. Everyone I know who has a car manages to make their vehicle a tactile extension of themselves. Beginning with smell, one of the key senses of memory, the smell of a car really indicates a lot. I'm not talking about stink; that usually just means you need to clean your car, or something died inside it, or your brother was driving it. I'm talking about the smell that gets stamped onto the very illustration that is a caricature of your car. Two cars which come to mind is one that belongs to the only person who regularly reads this; her car smells distinctly of chocolate Lipsmakers lip balm. I don't even think she uses Lipsmakers, yet somehow this scent has become the strongest identifying feature of her car. The second car that comes to mind is the one I caught a lift to brunch in this morning. This Volkswagen smells deliciously of cigarettes. Now, I know the words “deliciously” and “cigarettes” shouldn't belong in the same sentence, but the scent is more than tobacco and poison set on fire. It's the scent of clove, tobacco and poison set on fire, all mixed with the scent that was already in her car (one that was a combination of moldy bread and clean laundry). It's magnificent.
Moving on to the actual items to be found in a person's car, they are so very telling. Even if a person's car is spotless, this still reveals a lot about where that person is in their life or in their month or in their week. The ratio of items on the floor to set ratio is worth noting. Patterns too should be paid attention to. Are there an inordinate number of coat hangers strewn about? Or maybe bags or cups from a store or eatery he or she likes to frequent. Books, magazines and foodstuffs are another good indicator. While riding in the deliciously cigarettey car this morning, I couldn't help but notice there was a case of root beer in the back seat. Seated next to it was a worn copy of The Princess Diaries. The book, not the movie. I pointed this out to my friend, to which she responded, “Yup. That's me. This is my car. You're in my world.” So true.

Rear Window

For reasons I don't understand, I absolutely love riding backwards in cars. I can remember, as very small child, kneeling on the back seat of my parents' car, looking out to the road behind us, seeing the oncoming headlights of cars and how they clashed with the street lights. When I started riding in friends' station wagons I was usually the one who had to sit in the back because I was smallest and the seat belt could fit me. Now, I find I'll look for an excuse to sit in the back of a hatch-back, even when there are no seat belts. It's not just in cars either. On trains, buses and ferries I'll find reasons to ride facing opposite of the direction I'm headed.

I think it's the sensation of moving backwards instead of forward that I like. It's a very different ride than everyone else in the vehicle has. The image of things getting farther is somehow way more aesthetically appealing to me than things getting closer. I guess it it's because I like to see where I've been more so than where I'm going. That can be read in one of two ways; either that I reminisce rather than move forward or that I like to reflect rather than speculate. It's probably more of the latter though, I must admit, I have been guilty of the first.

I'm not really sure where I'm going with all this. It's just an observation. Although, I may not know where I'm going simply because I'm facing the other way and I like it.

Chévere: *

A few moments ago I viewed something truly amazing.

While watching Mythbusters (one of the best shows on television) on TLC, a channel aired in English, I saw a commercial in Spanish. The commercial was a car commercial for Infinity and, more importantly, there was nothing distinctly Latino about it. It was not “targeting” a consumer group with a gimmick in any way other than the language in which it was spoken. The man in the commercial wasn't driving to a quinceañera or through el barrio. It was the same commercial that would have been used in English. The only difference was the voice over.

I don't know if airing this commercial on TLC was an accident but I'd like to hope it wasn't. If it wasn't, infinity is presuming that people who speak Spanish watch English speaking channels. It takes note not of a non-English speaking population in the United States, but of a bilingual one, an ever growing one that will soon, I believe, make our nation virtually a bilingual one. With actors like James Roday, one of the stars of Psych, (whose real name is James Rodriguez), coming forward as Latino is a good example of the growing importance of a Latino presence in media.

This excites me for two reasons. 1) Way to go Infinity for not using a gimmick. Those “cultural gimmicks” are the reason I couldn't stand some of the earlier McDonalds “I'm lovin' it” adds, as they clearly and specifically targeted an “urban” audience (read: black/ African-American) or “general” audience (read: white). 2) Infinity and TLC recognize that language is not a barrier; it's a bridge.

Let's face it, Mythbusters is awesome, no matter what language you speak. But then, this could have all been an accident.

*Chévere: old-school Newyorican** word for cool, fantastic

** Newyorican: a New Yorker of Puertorrican decent.