Have I got a deal for you
Then I started looking twice at other things I own, since every single possession is salable nowadays, thanks to the internet.
I’ve never gotten so much attention from men.
Who, you ask?
Used-car dealers.
They’re all over me.
They want me bad.
There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t get three emails from used-car dealers.
They call nonstop, too.
I have no idea how they get my number. Men find a way, when they have one thing on their mind.
Money.
Because all of them want to buy my cars.
Because I maintain mine and never drive them anywhere.
Because I never go anywhere.
Plus I have a truck that never goes anywhere, in case the horse needs to go to the emergency vet.
And I still have Francesca’s 20-year-old VW, which has only 27,000 miles.
We never go anywhere.
It’s not because of the pandemic, it was ever thus.
Writers work in a chair. If I’m sitting in a chair, I’m doing my job. If the chair has a wheel, I’m not.
You know the proverbial little old lady who has a really nice car but never drives?
I always wondered about that person and now I’m her.
That’s what happens when you get older.
You become the people you wondered about.
For example, when I was in college, we would go to football games and sit in the lousiest section, reserved for students. The alumni always got the best seats, in the section at the 50-yard line. I thought to myself, someday I will be an alumna.
And now I am.
But I don’t go to football games because I have to drive there in the car.
I even remember being at weddings, and there were always people at a table who were friends of the parents and I had no idea who they were. I suspected they were nice and enjoyed soft food.
That’s me.
I’m super nice and I love soft food.
Mashed potatoes call to me.
Followed by ice cream.
I have teeth, but why bother?
Teeth are mean.
They bite.
When I go to a wedding, I sit with the other parents who are now grandparents, and we have a great time. We don’t know who the young people are, but we think they’re adorable.
We don’t wish we were them.
We used to be them, and we know this is better.
To return to point, evidently the used-car dealers want my cars because there’s a shortage. I never wanted to sell my cars before, but now I’m thinking. The dealers are making some serious offers, and I’m looking at my truck funny.
Can’t I carry a horse to a vet?
And Francesca’s old car, too. Yes, she drives it when she’s home and she loves it. But does she love it as much as money?
Do I love it as much as soft food?
Then I started looking twice at other things I own, since every single possession is salable nowadays, thanks to the internet. I know people who are selling their old clothes, so I’m giving the side-eye to some old jackets and pants. They’re hanging on the aspirational side of my closet, for when I lose 20 pounds.
But it’s clear that isn’t happening.
It’s not that I’ve given up my aspirations.
It’s just that I realized they were stupid in the first place.
That’s not resignation, that’s wisdom.
Ask me anything.
And pass the mashed potatoes.
Where does it end, with selling things?
I have old sweaters, shoes, and purses. I like them, but I like money more.
I’m used to thinking of the resale value of a house, but not of a pen.
It’s a revolution in thinking, and I’m not sure it’s for the better, for me.
Now I feel guilty about not selling my things.
I feel pressured by my possessions.
It’s like the used-car salesmen moved in with me.
But I’ll keep telling them, no deal.
In the end, I like my things.
And Francesca borrows my clothes and bags, calling them vintage.
I’m not old, I’m vintage.
We’re not senior citizens, we’re vintage citizens.
And I love her 20-year-old VW.
Even though they don’t make it anymore, it’s not obsolete.
It’s vintage, too.
And it’s a convertible, so it knows how to have a good time.
Even though it’s in the garage, it still has value.
To me.
Look for Lisa’s new domestic thriller, “What Happened to the Bennetts,” coming March 29. Also, look for Lisa’s best-selling historical novel, “Eternal,” in paperback. Francesca’s critically acclaimed debut novel, “Ghosts of Harvard,” is also in paperback.