When possibility and reality collide

Possibility. I have a small problem with it.

When my eyes see this:

 

My brain sees this:

 

 The problem is this. The next photo is the van I bought for myself on my 40th birthday. It needed a clutch, a battery, and tires when I bought it. I planned to do all of that, paint it, re-do the interior, and make it very roadworthy. I even entertained ideas of making it a plug-in electric van with a roof-mounted solar rack and a bumper-mounted veggie-oil generator to charge the batteries on road trips. I even dreamed of driving it to exotic places - like Waxahachie!

 

Here is what it looked like when I sold it five years later:

 

 

In five years, it got a clutch, a battery, a heater core, a radiator, new wheel cylinders, electronic ignition, seatbelts, and tires. The longest trip it ever successfully took was to Slaton, Texas. (About 15 miles away.) The longest unsuccessful trip it ever took was to Levelland, Texas. About halfway there the radiator exploded. (I am surprised that Spencer still talks to me after that trip.) It came back home on a trailer.

 

You can probably see where I am going with this. If not, buckle up.

 

It's possibility that gets me. Craigslist and Ebay and swap meets, these things get me every time. Drivng through small Texas towns filled will cool and rusty junk - oh, the temptation. Retro, vintage, resto-mod. It's why I love hippie vans, rat rods, Citicars, Italian scooters, and fat-tired bikes. It's even why I'm drawn to tiny houses.

 

But these days, I find myself drawn to the Nissan Leaf and the Radwagon - things that have the possibility of instant motion and usefulness, things that deliver me quickly and efficiently to my eco friendly goals and things that offer more peace than a dust-covered project ever will. These days I want ready and dependable. I will leave cool to the cool people who have the desire and the time.

 

Is this progress or digression? I am honestly not sure, but I want to roll green - not wrench greasy. Is that so wrong?

 

May your reality be better than the possibility you're not choosing.