Published Articles
By Dr. William R. Morrow

“Marriage Is Like Car Ownership”

I suppose every man reaches a point in his marriage when he has to rethink his commitment. Especially if he has been in it long enough to have experienced some of the big transition times, like the empty nest, for example, which always challenges the fiber of the relationship. As for me, I am a little dim on what assorted turmoils I have weathered in my thirty-two years of marriage, and can’t say for sure that I ever had any such challenging time. But I do clearly recall that I suffered a real, heart-rending crisis about my car. (It’s just the way a man’s mind works.) Fifteen years ago or so I acquired a shiney preowned imported luxury car that made me proud. It‘s one of those you can just drive and drive, and it always “runs good”, even though the acceleration is like somebody had put glue on the tires. I remember there was a very definite transition time period when I had reached a critical point in my car ownership. I confess I had begun to be influenced by this Detroit mentality that says get a new car every few years. The philosophy is that it’s good to change, have a little variety, and keep your four-wheel persona looking good to all your highway admirers. As if there were so many people who judge your suaveness based on what you are driving. And, I had noticed a few blemishes on my old car; it wasn’t holding all the same allure as it used to. It was clearly the time to decide about either keeping it or trading it in. It was during this time that I had a pivotal discussion with my mechanic. He was someone I had taken my car troubles to over the years, so I considered him a trusted expert in these matters. After hearing my complaints and misgivings, he gazed knowlingly under the hood, did a wisdomquest walk-around, and commented about the fine engineering of my old buggy. Essentially he told me they don’t make them like this anymore. He was so complimentary that I began to look at my car in a whole different way. I was converted. My eyes were opened. Now I saw my own beautiful vehicle, not past its prime, but just emerging into its classic period, like a spring flower. It was gaining new status every day, a car well-suited for the longhaul, that just got better with age, even as it approached the antique stage. I forgot about acceleration and became enamored with the car’s comfort and safety features. I tingled with excitement, just like in the new car commercials on TV. I was ready make this a matter of pride, and, barring any major accidents, I could see myself endeared, and fully capable of having a longterm relationship with this wonderous piece of machinery. My wife thinks I have gone a little overboard in my nostalgic hyperinterest in my car, but , for some reason she has a contented smile on her face most of the time. Probably because she has a car of her own to consider.

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