We’re all Subaru Now

The lease on my company car expired. I turned the car in and said good riddance. It was a spiffy little German sedan, more entry level than top end. But it had a maddening set of features that nagged me so frequently it ruined the entire notion of ever relaxing by going for a drive in the country.

After driving awhile the display would reveal a steaming cup of coffee and the words, “Take a Break” would appear. Or it reminded me about every fluid level, service intervals coming up, 1 psi differences in tire pressures, and so on. It forced me to interact with it constantly.

I mistakenly assumed Europeans were more to the nanny side than Americans so my new car is a GMC truck.

Then it hit me. It was my age cohort that started padding life’s corners for the kids. Helmets and knee pads and play dates and juice pouches. Now my damn truck dings and dongs and buzzes and beeps and says “Caution, blah blah blah” incessantly.

Some members of my cohort ended up designing cars.  Didn’tcha.

 

 

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