Automated Moving Machines

I like cars, especially big, old boats that could hold a number of dead bodies in the trunk. My favorite car that I have ever driven was a baby-blue, sparkly 1986 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme (it looked like this but with smaller wheels). As my friend John once said, "You could comfortably tan three people on the hood of your car, rolling them over like hot dogs."

The car needed work. Some of the chrome trim had fallen off, a lot of the undercarriage had started to rust, and the paint job had faded. Regardless, I love it. My mom called it my Gangster Car, and consequently, I was pulled over more in that car than any other car I have owned (tickets for the following: 43 in a 40, excessive left lane usage and failure to signal, one head light -despite it being light out, and a rolling stop in a movie theater parking lot at 11:30 PM on a Tuesday; I think that car drew attention, and obviously, not all of it good). One day, while at Monmouth, it stopped going backwards. It ran fine forwards, but the rear gear slipped or fell off or something. I like cars, but a mechanic I am not.

Since then, I have driven what I consider to be tiny cars: a mid-90's Buick Regal Sport, a late 80's LaSabre, and a 2000 Ford Contour; all of which could be stored neatly in the trunk of my Cutlass.

Now, in Aberystwyth, I am without a car. This is not unusual, and there are a lot of people out walking around at any given time. There are plenty of sidewalks (of sorts) along all the major roads. At times, I might need to cross the street because the buildings run right up to the street, but for the most part, I can find somewhere to walk no matter where I go. Really, a car has not been necessary at all, though I might not agree with that when I am trying to hike it back up the hill to my dorm after walking into town to get supplies. The only time that I become keenly aware of the necessity of a car is when I need to go grocery shopping.

Today, I walked down the hill, through town, and out to the South Western edge where the large department stores are. As I was walking, I started to take notice of the cars around me. I was struck by the almost complete lack of SUVs. In London, I can understand the desire to own smaller cars. Some of the streets in London were built before the idea of cars, and thus are sort of tight. Here, though, there is not such a lack of space. None the less, most of the cars in Aberystwyth are what American's refer to as subcompacts, and almost all of them are hatchbacks.

I also realized I have no idea who makes these cars. There are a smattering of Fords, and a few of the Asian cars (Toyota, Hyundia, Honda, etc.). For the most part, though, I don't recognize any of these car manufacturers. There are Minis (but nothing like the American Mini Coopers), Peugeot, Renault, Vauxhall and Fiats. Even the American makes don't look like it. The more I looked, the more it felt like all of Aberystwyth was inhabited by broke college graduates looking to get the most car for the little buck they had. These weren't cars; these are toys.

What, I found myself wondering, would lead a fully grown man to drive a Mini Cooper? Can he not afford a decent car? There's more room in a SMART CAR!

My journey took me past a used car dealership that was packed full of these clown cars. One section was labeled large family cars, where there were a few sedans. In the week and a half that I have been here, I have seen two SUVs: one Landrover, and one Kia. The biggest car besides that would be a small station wagon that the taxi's prefer to drive. Even the service vehicles, delivery trucks and construction equipment seems to be made for kids playing at being a servicemen, delivery driver or construction worker.

Once home, I couldn't shake my disbelief about the tininess of the cars. As I looked out my window, the sun setting towards the sea, and the sky was a pleasant shade of blue, I started to see the advantage of the smaller, fuel efficient cars. Granted, if I drove a Vauxhall Corsa I couldn't buy an entire furniture set and drive it home with me (something I saw an elderly couple trying to figure out the logistics of), but at least the sky wouldn't be a sickly orange color at night.