My Car Hates Hippies


For the last week I’ve been up at, Goddard College, for my eight day residency. My friends affectionately refer to my school as Hootenanny College, Hippie School, and Fake College. This is because the format of Goddard is slightly alternative. The majority of the coursework is self-directed and we are encouraged to tailor our program to our passions and interests. We create our own syllabi and truly: Goddard is only what you make it and nothing more or less. Someone during our residency came up with the analogy that Goddard is like a “Montessori College.”

Now alternative programs attract…how do you say…alternative people. It is a place where it is not uncommon for someone to respond to “How are you?” with “Well, my sun is rising in Capricorn this week and it’s really throwing my energy off.” I don’t say this with a lick of contempt – I love my peers and my residencies. I’ve met people I would have never otherwise connected with and am better for having the chance to be around them.

So when news made it back to campus that my drive home had been thwarted by car troubles and I was stranded in the boonies of Vermont for the night with an uncertain diagnosis, I was flooded with messages to “use the power of positive thinking” and that everyone was sending “good vibes.” Someone may have even telepathically sent some healing energy, I don’t know. Well as it turned out:

My car hates hippies.

I bought this giant silver boat, otherwise known as a Dodge Stratus, after my Neon died after almost a decade of dutiful service. This was mere months ago. This morning I was informed that something had happened that allowed oil to splash all over my motor, and if I wanted to make it drivable – I would have to replace the whole damn engine. I felt like I was reliving a nightmare, as something very similar had been the reason my Neon had finally bit the dust. I was not expecting to hear the same about my new (to me) car.

I very seldom post in fits of rage or frustration. My goal, most of the time, is laughter – whether it’s having a good laugh by myself, or perhaps you are sitting behind your computer screen giggling. Today is my exception. I am now twenty-six, unemployed, car less, and have $300 to my name. If Karma is truly an entity that exists in this crazy world with us I’d like to find it. Then promptly bitch slap it in the face.

RIP: “I drive a Dodge Stratus.”

Full Skit: Here.

One thought on “My Car Hates Hippies

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